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Leah Jacobson

Home improvement

It’s as natural as eating and breathing, or any part of the involuntary nervous system. You see a friend, you ask: “How are you doing?” You call someone: “How you doing?” You text all day long: “how r u?”

And yet, we have been struggling with how to answer that question for more than ten months now.

A friend dragged me to a mid-summer conference last week. And I didn’t want to go. Because at the moment I had to decide I wasn’t doing very well. She caught me in a “crawl under the blanket and hide” moment. But she persisted. And I relented. And I am so glad I did.

She wanted to go because she wanted to wrap her head around the “Nine Days,” the heightened period of mourning practices from Rosh Hodesh Av until Tisha B’Av. I, for one, had been feeling them acutely. But something made me go. And I came away feeling validated and inspired.

Validated in the sense that when I have been asked what the mood is like in Israel in the past few weeks and months, I had crafted the response: terrifying and inspiring. Some people can’t relate to those two adjectives sharing a sentence. But I feel this response captures my feeling precisely. Though I believe with complete faith that Am Yisrael is eternal, and the IDF’s capability is tremendous, I simultaneously believe that our own behavior has been dismal, and our enemies have reared their heads. This direct correlation is part of my belief system. (Corroborated by the Torah and Prophets portions we read this time of year.) And this scares me. However, I have also been inspired as I’ve witnessed some of the most selfless and moving acts ever, at the grassroots level and trickling up, building bridges between fellow citizens and broadly supporting our troops, grieving families and hostages.

Holding on to these two seemingly opposite emotions is exhausting. But it is not unprecedented. Throughout Jewish history we have experienced moments of paralyzing fear and profound jubilation, along with the range of emotions that span the area between them.

As with many things emotional, King David expressed it best. In the Shir Hamaalot psalm (126) that we say before Birkat Hamazon (grace after meals) on Shabbat and holidays, these seemingly opposing forces appear.

הַזֹּרְעִים בְּדִמְעָה  בְּרִנָּה יִקְצֹרוּ

הָלוֹךְ יֵלֵךְ, וּבָכֹה  נֹשֵׂא מֶשֶׁךְ-הַזָּרַע
בֹּא-יָבֹא בְרִנָּה  נֹשֵׂא, אֲלֻמֹּתָיו

“Those who sow in tears will harvest in joy; Though the planter of seeds goes out while crying, the carrier of the sheaves will come forth in song.”

Challenging as it is, we are fated to hold these two truths – devastation and euphoria – simultaneously until the final redemption. Because, as the Talmud tells us, if we have not merited that redemption yet, we are considered among those who brought upon ourselves the destruction of the Holy Temple and the ensuing exile.

As we enter Tisha B’Av, on the heels of the extended pain we have suffered since October 7th, and the fracture in our society even before then, we must try with all our might to merit the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem. But the first step toward that national rebuilding is personal home improvement.

The rabbis tell us that we are each a Mikdash Me’at (a miniature temple). This year, a little bit of each of us has been broken. Actually, more than a little bit. Though we have all experienced October 7th and its aftermath differently, we are all fractured and in pain.

This Tisha b’Av, we must rebuild our own Mikdash into a place of worship and welcoming.

The Korbanot (from the root “become close”) in the Beit HaMikdash comprised of offerings brought forth to forge a more intimate relationship between us and God. Start by finding your Avoda and use it to become closer to Hashem. What do you do best that can be channeled toward communicating with God and bringing light into the world? You may be doing this already, and that is outstanding. Pause to acknowledge this; don’t underestimate the positivity you have generated. But if you still feel unfulfilled, you may need to dig a little deeper and pinpoint a skill that is untapped. What gifts has God given you to help heal yourself and others. Alternatively, if you are inclined, reach out and help a friend find their unique gift and bring it forth as well.

The Beit Hamikdash was also meant to be a place for all who recognized the Master of the World to gather. Global peace is the ultimate goal, but let’s try by starting with our fellow Jews first. In your Mikdash Me’at, make room for others in your spiritual realm, people with whom you may think you have nothing in common or will never see eye to eye. Allow yourself to disagree, but to maintain your individual beliefs. This is a big ask, considering the many emotionally loaded issues we face today. But it is also a big moment in time that demands BIG efforts.

Hashem created us all in HIS image, not yours. Practice not feeling threatened by a fellow Jew who looks or thinks differently than you. Hashem’s dearest wish is for all of us to respect each other, despite, or maybe even because of, our differences. Start embracing the differences. Minimize them instead of exaggerating them. Once our miniature temples are mended, the Beit Hamikdash will surely follow. May it be speedy and in our days!

About the Author
Leah Jacobson made aliya to Raanana from Seattle with her husband and children in 2011. She is an artist, a Madrichat Kallot and a Jewish Educator. Her passion is integrating Torah learning with personal expression to keep our ancient texts relevant to modern life.