Chapter 97

Therefore, on Erev Shabbos I surely began preparing myself for the sanctity of Shabbos and drawing consolation from the mourning of the entire week. On the contrary, at that time one experiences great vitality and closeness to Hashem, may He be blessed. I thus prepared myself for Shabbos Chazon, Parashas Devarim. One does not bathe in hot water with soap but immerses only in a cold mikvah. We nevertheless wear Shabbos garments as on every Shabbos, for “when Shabbos comes, rest comes.”

There was also joy within my heart and expectation of deliverance from Hashem, may He be blessed, because of the child’s revival. I had seen that Hashem was still with us, heard our cry, and delivered us in our time of distress. At such a time, on the contrary, one pours out the heart still more, and the heart does not become petrified as it can when one is in distress and sees no beginning of deliverance. Nevertheless, one is consoled from anguish and suffering and experiences vitality in expecting deliverance and mercy, particularly when the sanctity of Shabbos approaches and consoles one from all troubles, and so forth.

Thus we received the holy Shabbos Chazon with vitality, yearning, and longing for the rebuilding of Yerushalayim and the Beis HaMikdash, and so forth. The heart throbbed in anticipation of the days preceding Tishah BeAv and of Tishah BeAv itself. At the very least, one is obligated during those days to contemplate our profound loss and the fact that we ourselves have a share in it, for anyone in whose days the Beis HaMikdash is not rebuilt is regarded as though it had been destroyed in his days, and so forth.

At the very least, there is a great obligation to delve deeply into anguish, suffering, longing, and yearning to the point of the soul’s expiration—“Let him place his mouth in the dust”—and to cry out and weep, “Return us to You, and we shall return.” By this very participation in the anguish—by mourning, longing, yearning, and pining for its rebuilding—one is regarded quite literally as having a share in rebuilding it.

When one reminds oneself that these days and this difficult labor of breaking the heart are approaching, as stated above, it is surely difficult to endure. Several practices on Shabbos itself likewise serve as reminders: one does not bathe in hot water, the haftarah of Chazon is read, and the rabbi who knows how to chant lamentations should read the haftarah, and so forth.

On the other hand, after we had already experienced throughout the week the anguish, suffering, and mourning over Yerushalayim, and knew that days were approaching in which we would have to strengthen ourselves to mourn still more intensely, we gladdened and consoled ourselves with the arrival of such a day of rest and holiness—the holy Shabbos, a day of joy and gladness. One eats and delights in the pleasure of Shabbos, which is a day of joy and gladness in all the worlds, and looks forward to the merit of this sacred day, the holy Shabbos, through which Hashem, may He be blessed, will ultimately deliver us and redeem us with a complete redemption very soon, amen.

At such a time one knows and senses especially well the goodness and vitality of this sacred day. Precisely because of the anguish of the preceding week’s mourning and the knowledge of the coming days in which one must mourn and suffer, when one now receives an interval in the form of such a sacred day—a day of joy and gladness—one truly senses the precious greatness and sanctity of that day. Every moment becomes exceedingly important, beginning even on Erev Shabbos. One gladdens oneself that a day of such vitality and joy is approaching. On the holy Shabbos itself, in particular, every single moment is precious and important.

Thus throughout that Erev Shabbos I sustained myself greatly, and every moment was precious to me as a means of reviving and consoling myself from the mourning and anguish of the entire week. Moreover, that day was the anniversary of the passing of the holy Arizal, may his merit protect us, amen. We believe that in the merit of these true, sacred, and awesome tzaddikim—who are likewise an aspect of Shabbos, “the Shabbos of all the days”—Hashem, may He be blessed, will spare us, both communally and individually, and redeem us with a complete redemption, amen.

I went to the mikvah in honor of the holy Shabbos. I was also at the tomb of Shimon HaTzaddik, may his merit protect us, amen, where I increased prayer and recited prayers and Tikkun Haklali. I was especially aroused by remembering that this was the anniversary of the passing of the holy Arizal. The Sephardim perform Tikkun Kares that night, remain awake throughout the night, and study and pray.

Already during the predawn watch, almost the entire Ashkenazi community of Tzefas assembled in the synagogue of the Arizal, of blessed memory—his synagogue among the Sephardim beside the cemetery, where he always prayed and where he studied with Eliyahu, of blessed memory, and so forth. All the people of Tzefas prayed there in minyan after minyan, while lamps burned in honor of the Arizal, of blessed memory. Afterward they went to the cemetery, to the tomb of the Arizal, of blessed memory, where men, women, and children increased prayer, weeping, and crying out. Some people went to the tomb before prayer and recited Tehillim there, and so forth.

In any event, throughout the entire period—from before the rise of dawn until near midday—both the holy tomb of the Arizal, of blessed memory, and his synagogue are filled with people who pray and increase the recitation of Tehillim and other prayers. From within the synagogue one sees through the windows the multitude at the holy tomb and hears the voices reciting Tehillim. Likewise, from the holy tomb one sees the synagogue and hears the sounds of the prayers. In any event, there is great arousal.

When I recalled this, I remembered that from the time I first attained understanding—from the time I first began walking on my own feet—I had already gone with my father, may his light shine, to the aforementioned synagogue of the Arizal, of blessed memory, for he went with all the children every single year. Each year we prayed in a fixed place and prayed with arousal. From there we went to the tomb of the Arizal, of blessed memory, where we would complete almost the whole of Tehillim. We remained for several hours, until near midday, and then returned to our home.

On that day we almost forgot that it was Bein HaMetzarim and part of the Nine Days. We derived vitality and joy from these devotions. Many people likewise went to the mikvah of the Arizal, of blessed memory, which is situated directly in the cemetery.

When I recalled all this, I surely yearned and longed on that day to seize some measure of goodness in the service of Hashem and draw upon myself vitality and holiness from the sanctity of this holy tzaddik. Here in Yerushalayim as well, we would go to the house of the Arizal, of blessed memory. There is a beis midrash in the house where the Arizal was born; the house was transformed into a beis midrash, and many people pray there. In any event, throughout the entire day many people come there to recite Tehillim and study.

The kabbalists likewise make a meal there and study his sacred teachings, from which we derive vitality and arousal. Afterward I went to the Western Wall and prayed Minchah with the Sephardi congregation. There I increased Tehillim, prayers, hisbodedus, and Tikkun Haklali. On returning home, I read the weekly portion twice in Scripture and once in Targum, and likewise read Shir HaShirim.