As the horn of a ram or similar animal is taken to human lips this Friday, it would do us well to momentarily mute the Tekiah, Shevarim and Teruah that will be sounded throughout the month of Elul, and to focus on how a defense mechanism of a four legged creature ( horn) abuts a defense mechanism of a two legged human (mouth) and realize, that with but three exceptions (eating, voiding, and propagating) as  pointed out by the Talmud, the similarity ends there.

Unlike an animal, a human being is born with a conscience. Human beings are capable of being able to distinguish right from wrong. It may have taken eating from the Tree of Knowledge for Adam and Eve to develop a conscience, but that conscience was quite evident soon after their regrettable repast. As soon as the first couple heard the sound of HaShem manifesting itself in the garden, Adam and Eve went and hid among the trees. Adam and Eve were aware that they had done something wrong and they attempted (in vain) to evade the consequences. Their son Cain had a conscience as well. In response to HaShem’s question, “Where is Abel your brother”? Cain, out of a sense of guilt, went on the defensive and retorted “am I my brother’s keeper”? Animals, in contradistinction to humans, were not designed to have consciences. If they did, then canines would be nowhere as loyal to humans, even when those humans are undeserving, and humans would not make a “tsimmes”  when an animal shows care, concern and consideration for a human. How else would we explain humans resorting to the aphorism “bull in a china shop” in that the bovine creature is in no way aware of the havoc it creates. The very fact that we humans out of desperation (wrongly) refer to other humans lacking a conscience as “animals”, illustrates that we are very much aware that four legged creatures are devoid of a conscience.

It was the award winning Hebrew and Yiddish poet of Israel, Abba Kovner, who encouraged a new generation of Israelis to “remember the past, live the present and trust the future”.  Humans become aware of the future at a tender age. That’s why it is not uncommon for a three-year old in our culture to  express the following sentiment: “when I grow up…” Humans have the ability and are given the incentive to plan for the future. That’s why there are any number of investment firms touting their expertise in making your money grow, as they vie for your business; that’s why many jobs come with retirement plans where the employer matches the contribution or withholding on the part of the employee.  Preparing for the future among animals is purely instinct. Squirrels forage for nuts to sustain them through the winter, independent of reading the Farmer’s Almanac. While I know nothing about how squirrels communicate with one another, I find it totally incredulous that squirrels would discuss the challenge of collecting nuts in any given year and then compare what it was like to collect nuts the previous year.

Our Talmudic sages were quick to point out (that unlike an animal) that ignorance of the law is no excuse. Stated differently, they maintained that humans should always consider themselves forewarned or responsible when it comes to injuries of others, as well as to damages to their property and estate. How much more so then is an individual’s responsibility to oneself! To be sure, our culture has a track record of destroying animals that have incurred harm. But such animals were destroyed because they were deemed dangerous. The only time responsibility serves as a factor is when that animal is owned by a human, or when that animal has a master. In either case, responsibility falls squarely upon the human, but never upon the animal.

Let the Tekiahs ring along with the Shevarim and Teruah. As they pierce the highest heavens, so too let them pierce the innermost depths of out heart and souls. Let us marvel at tough animal cartilage pressing up against the sensitive human lip. Let us appreciate the contrast between four- legged animal and the two-legged human. With the human, HaShem has every right to expect a conscience that distinguish between right and wrong, an ability to anticipate  planning for the future and a keen sense of responsibility toward HaShem, one’s fellow man and oneself. Failure to do so will result in mere lip service.

The Jewish National Fund should have gone out on a limb. Last week would have afforded the JNF yet another excellent opportunity to promote trees. For it was last Tuesday, the Talmud tells us, that a special name was conferred upon the 15^th of the Hebrew month of Av. Although still very much in the midst of summer, our rabbinic sages calculated that the 15^th of the Hebrew month of Av was the specific date when the heat from the unforgiving sun over Israel, finally begins to dissipate. On that date, our sages declared that no ax may be swung at a tree for the purpose of providing kindling wood for the sacrifices of the holy Temple in Jerusalem.  Our sages referred to that day as Yom Tavar Magal or the day of the breaking of the scythe or ax.

Although two thousand years have passed since any trees have been felled for the purpose of providing wood for the altar, Yom Tavar Magal ought to live on.

A much overlooked sight for tourists visiting Israel is a monument located in the city of Ramat Gan commemorating ten young Jewish soldiers (the original list, other names were added later) who met their deaths at the end of a British noose. While the English language settles on the word “hanged”, the Hebrew language depicts those who lost their lives as Olei HaGardom or those who went up against the ax. The purpose of employing such phraseology, is that in the eyes of Zionism, the mode of execution employed by the British mattered little, if any. From the Zionist point of view, there was but one difference between the “civilized” British executioners of the twentieth century and the savage Roman executioners who murdered Jews in ancient times. We have no record as to the ages of the Jewish victims murdered by the ancient Romans. We do know however that without exception, that those who went up against the ax of the British were all in their prime of life. Put differently, the ax of the British denied its Jewish victims to benefit from the Tree of Life.
Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav was not the first to caution Jews against despair when he reminded us that the entire world is a narrow bridge and that we must never give in to fear. Two Talmudic sages, Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yochanan expressed a similar sentiment when they handed down the following adage for posterity: Even if a sharpened sword is resting on the neck of person’s neck, it should never prevent the victim from asking for mercy. The two rabbis then cite the following verse from Job 13:15: “Behold, he is about to kill me, shall I not turn to Him in hope”?

As creative as the Roman were when it came to introducing ancient Israel to architecture and engineering, there was a destructive side to the Romans as well. The ancient Romans had no regard whatsoever for forestation or for human life. Accordingly, they did a hatchet job on both. With no regard for either the flora or the fauna, the ancient Romans indiscriminately set about  clearing swaths of land, so that the enemy could no longer seek safety and find refuge deep in the forests; the Ancient Romans used the lumber for military purposes such as onagers (prototype of a wrecking ball used to knock down walls of fortified cities)  and battering rams,  allowing them to break through doors and gates. Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yochanan undoubtedly heard and perhaps even witnessed Romans – with no qualms whatsoever – swinging their axes into the necks of Jews. And yet, they adjured our people not to give up hope. Neither Rabbi would ever have claimed to speak words of prophecy. Yet, during any given year, the number of Israelis visiting Italy is amazing; the number of Italians visiting Israel and planting trees is awesome.

Our rabbinic sages were quick to notice the similarity between  shalosh (three) and shalish (military commander). Because of this, they ascribed great strength to trees, a product of the third day of creation. Yet, when iron was created, these great towers of strength began to tremble. They foresaw impending doom, should it ever happen that iron be sharpened into an ax. “Let not your heart be troubled”, said iron to the trees reassuringly. “As long as none of your wood provides us with a handle, no harm will come your way.”

Yom Tavar Magal continues to convey important teachings. It serves to remind us of young Jews who were denied eating from the Tree of Life as they went up against the British sword.  It recalls the optimism of Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yochanan who were able to see not only the forest and the trees, but the continuation of vibrant Jewish living as well. It cautions us against placing ourselves in harm’s way. Most of all, it reminds us that there are specific times for an ax to meet a tree. May those times contribute to a better world.

Although there are better known stories depicting last week’s stain on Jewish history, there is one that holds greater meaning for me than all the rest. It depicts young Kohanim or priests in training, ascending the roof of the Beit HaMikdash with keys to various chambers of the holy edifice in their hands. Turning their faces heavenward, these young Kohanim admitted that they failed in their responsibilities of keepers of the keys. It was therefore only proper and befitting, that they return the keys that they had been entrusted  with by HaShem. No sooner did these young Kohanim toss these keys up in the air, when a heavenly hand emerged, removing the keys from human possession.

While admittedly resorting to idiomatic expressions in the English language, there were three keys that were never offered to be returned by the young Kohanim and could therefore never be accepted by HaShem. Perhaps of even greater importance, these three keys that the young Kohanim refused to surrender served as the very antithesis to those keys returned to HaShem. Whereas those keys returned to HaShem by the young Kohanim symbolized keys of destruction and ruin, the three keys that the young Kohanim adamantly refused to surrender represented keys of perseverance and perpetuity.

The first key that the young Kohanim refused to surrender to HaShem, was the “key of recrimination.” Even if they wanted to, the young Kohanim could not have surrendered the “key of recrimination” because they could not claim exclusive ownership. The “key of recrimination” was a key that was first used by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. It was then passed on from  generation to generation. It was Abraham however, who refused to have any part of the “key of recrimination” just as Abraham refused to have any part in the worship of idols. Abraham understood that recrimination and idolatry absolve the individual of responsibility. Idolatry placed everything that went on in this world in the hands of deities: the “key of recrimination” placed everything that went on in one’s own world in the hands of others. In both situations, the individual remained devoid of responsibility. If the “key of recrimination” was in the sole possession of the young Kohanim, and if the young Kohanim had chosen to surrender it to HaShem, then the message of Tisha B’Av would have been: “Just as it was beyond our scope to have played any role whatsoever in the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, so too is it beyond our scope to play any role whatsoever in the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash.”

Although never intended as such, it was HaShem who defined our very essence as a people. In a state of anger and exasperation, it was HaShem who told Moshe that our ancestors were a group of “stiff-necked” people. The personality trait of being “stiff-necked” was one that would remain with us as a people from that moment on; that personality trait would prove define our very essence and explain our being able to defy overwhelming odds time and time again. As a people, we are determined and resolute. As a nation, we are contrarians. While I am neither a sociologist nor a historian, it nevertheless appears, that as a people, we Jews seem to thrive in the face of adversity. Stated differently, time and time again, it has been shown that our shining moment as a people often occurs when the chips are down. Despite quotas in Law Schools and Medical Schools in this country a century ago, Jews gained admission as well a grudging acceptance into fields reserved for Christian America. Yet, once admitted and accepted, Jews continued to aspire to the top tier, so that instead of being looked down upon, Jews were suddenly being looked up to. The characterization of being “stiff-necked” turned out to be one of our greatest strengths and attributes as a people. The key of being “stiff-necked” was the second key that the young Kohanim refused to surrender to HaShem.

The human head is more than just home to four of the five senses. The human head possesses  the ability to refine and distinguish those senses. Not only can the human ear hear words, but it can also discern how those words are spoken. Not only can the human nose inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide, but it can also distinguish between pleasant scents and unpleasant odors. So too the human eye. Depth perception aside, our tradition maintains that we were gifted by HaShem with two eyes, so that we could use one eye to see how others affect our lives and the other eye to see how we affect our lives. If Jewish sources – religious as well as secular – have taught us anything, it is that we Jews have a tendency to favor the eye that allows us to see how we affect our lives. Whether tragedy or triumph, our focus as a people has primarily been on ourselves, rather than the enemy. Regardless of the hand dealt us, we focus on introspection.  As a result, little, if any energy is expended on grudges or revenge or seeking justice. Instead, most, if not all energy, is directed to picking up shattered pieces, left in the aftermath and building a brighter future. The key to introspection was the third key that the young Kohanim refused to surrender to HaShem.

The time period between last week’s commemoration of Tisha B’Av and next month’s celebration of Rosh Hashanah is designated as seven weeks of consolation. True and meaningful consolation comes about when we realize that that the key to recrimination, the key to being stiff-necked and the key to introspection were never surrendered to HaShem but remain in the firm grip of our people. May we find meaningful consolation knowing that we possess all three keys.

A certain irony exists when we pray for the rebuilding Jerusalem. As part of our established daily  prayers, we ask HaShem to rebuild Jerusalem without qualification. During Birkat HaMazon or Grace After Meals, we ask HaShem to rebuild Jerusalem in His mercy. Come Tisha B’Av during the Mincha service, we ask  HaShem to rebuild Jerusalem out of reconsideration.  Why the shift in our requests? Why do we qualify our request with either  mercy or reconsideration?

Mercy or rachamim as it is known in Hebrew, is visceral. Mercy is a feeling. Mercy emanates from the heart. Mercy is an attempt to soothe the hurt and pain that one is experiencing. Oddly enough, the first usage of rachamim in the Torah, deals with a wishful or hopeful expression of concern. “And may Almighty G-d grant you mercy before the man… (Genesis 43:14)” says Jacob to his sons, after they returned from Egypt, only to discover that the money they had paid for the provisions they had purchased, turned up in their sacks of grain. Reconsidering, often  used interchangeably with consoling or tanchumim as it is known in Hebrew, is cerebral. Reconsidering is a thought process. Reconsidering emanates from the mind. Reconsidering is an attempt to assure the one who is hurting and in pain, that all is not lost. Oddly enough, the first usage of tanchumim in the Torah, deals with HaShem. Seeing the evil and wickedness of mankind, “HaShem reconsidered having made man on earth (Genesis 6:6). Rather than throw in the towel and give up, HaShem reconsidered whether He did the right thing when He created mankind.

Mercy implies victimhood. Mercy conveys that you feel for the individual who is hurting. Mercy is an attempt  to bandage the emotional wound visited upon the one who is grieving. Whether it is through sympathy, where one feels for the victim or through empathy, where one feels with the victim, the one experiencing hurt and pain is told that he or she does not have to weather the crises alone. The one experiencing hurt and pain is assured there are others who will be at his or her side, either in the literal sense or in the figurative sense. Reconsidering implies being in control. Reconsidering conveys a silver lining for the individual who is hurting. Reconsidering is an attempt to redirect the focus from the emotional wound and to redirect it to the many healthy areas outside that wound. Rather than assure the victim that you are very much aware that he or she is grieving, reconsidering reassures the individual, how important it is to realize that grief is a passing experience and that you are there to assist in planning for once the pain has passed. An example of this is seen each morning toward the beginning of the Shacharit service, where we are asked to reconsider  that even though “In the evening, one lies down weeping, in the morning there are shouts of joy (Psalms 30:6)”.

Mercy implies a past. Mercy assures  the one suffering, that you are not oblivious to the upheaval that has occurred in his or her life. Mercy is a reminder that while you cannot change what has happened, the crises need not be confronted alone. Among the many misnomers in our society, is the term self-help groups. Self-help groups are organized by individuals who have gone through similar experiences to meet with those who are hurting to help them deal with their  past. Reconsidering on the other hand, implies a future. Reconsidering focuses on what will take place. Reconsidering assures the one suffering, that there is a promising future. Perhaps the greatest healing available  to individuals at a time when they are all too quick to dismiss their future, is that you have confidence in them. Reconsidering assures those grieving, that their future must neither be disregarded nor overlooked. We live in a society where there is no shortage of investment clubs. The objective of such clubs is to secure a safe and strong financial future for its members. Reconsidering does much the same in helping to secure a safe and strong emotional future for those who are hurting.

And so it is with Tisha B’Av. Three times a day, we pray for the unqualified rebuilding of Jerusalem. Finding ourselves satiated at the conclusion of a meal, we find it difficult to identify with a city that continues to hunger for spiritual and religious completion. We therefore pray for the rebuilding of Jerusalem in mercy. Finding ourselves toward the close of Tisha B’Av, we can empathize with a city that has been deprived of (spiritual) nourishment. We therefore pray for HaShem to reconsider and to bring an end to the two-thousand-year-old plight of the holy city . Whether out of mercy or out of reconsideration or neither, we beseech HaShem to rebuild a city that means so much to so many.