By Rabbi Yisrael Yitzchak Rosenfeld
How can we experience genuine mourning during the Nine Days (Tish’at HaYamim, תשעת הימים)?
Our Sages call this period Tish’at HaYamim—the Nine Days, from Rosh Chodesh Av until Tisha B’Av.
Every year we are confronted with the same question:
How can we mourn for a Temple that was destroyed nearly 2,000 years ago?
Isn’t that something far removed from our lives?
Don’t we already have enough personal struggles—illness, loneliness, financial hardship, anxiety about the future, wars, and uncertainty?
How can our hearts also weep for the Beit HaMikdash?
Rebbe Nachman of Breslov teaches a profound idea:
Exile is not merely a historical event—it is a present condition of the soul.
As long as Hashem’s Presence is not openly revealed in the world, every human being lives, to some extent, in exile.
The Temple was not merely a building of stone.
It was the place where heaven and earth met.
There, the Shechinah was tangibly experienced by every person.
Since its destruction, the world has been missing its spiritual heart.
Therefore, the Talmud teaches:
“Whoever does not mourn for Jerusalem will not merit seeing her joy.”
This means not only mourning over a tragic event in history, but recognizing what is still absent from our present reality.
Rabbi Noson of Breslov explains that every form of confusion, every inner struggle, and every darkness we experience is a consequence of this ongoing exile.
Our personal suffering is therefore not separate from the destruction of the Temple—it is part of the same unfinished world.
These hardships are among the birth pangs of Mashiach.
Precisely when we think,
“I already have enough problems of my own,”
we can realize that these very struggles remind us that the world has not yet been redeemed.
The Prophet Jeremiah cries out:
צִיּוֹן הִיא דֹּרֵשׁ אֵין לָהּ
“Zion—no one seeks her.”
(Jeremiah 30:17)
The Chassidic masters read this verse differently:
Seek Zion! Long for her!
For every sincere yearning for holiness brings the Geulah—the Redemption—closer.
This beautifully reflects one of the central teachings of Rebbe Nachman:
אֵין שׁוּם יֵאוּשׁ בָּעוֹלָם כְּלָל
“There is absolutely no despair in the world.”
(Likkutei Moharan II:78)
Therefore, even during the darkest days, we must never surrender to hopelessness.
Our mourning is not despair—it is longing.
Perhaps we do not feel powerful emotions when we think about the Temple.
That is nothing to be ashamed of.
The true avodah is simply to say honestly to Hashem:
“Ribbono Shel Olam, I want to mourn for Your Temple. Please help me feel what is still hidden from my heart.”
That honesty itself is already a step toward the Geulah.
The Sfat Emet writes that within every Jewish heart there is a hidden spark of the Beit HaMikdash.
Whenever we study Torah, pray, perform chesed, or prevent someone from speaking lashon hara, we are building that inner sanctuary.
In this way, the Nine Days become days of building rather than merely days of destruction.
Our hope is anchored in the promise of the Prophet Zechariah:
צֹום הַחֲמִישִׁי… יִהְיֶה לְבֵית יְהוּדָה לְשָׂשׂוֹן וּלְשִׂמְחָה
“The fast of the fifth month… shall become for the House of Judah seasons of joy, gladness, and festive celebration.”
(Zechariah 8:19)
May we, during these Nine Days (Tish’at HaYamim), mourn not only the stones that were lost long ago, but the world that has not yet been redeemed.
May our tears become prayers, our prayers become deeds, and our deeds become the building blocks of the Third Beit HaMikdash.
And may the words of our daily prayers soon be fulfilled:
ותחזינה עינינו בשובך לציון ברחמים
“May our eyes behold Your return to Zion in mercy.”
Amen.
