Tisha B'Av - When the Beis HaMikdash Falls, Where Does Hashem Go?

2:38 When the Beit Hamikdash was destroyed, there was a crisis—a crisis that goes well beyond the physical destruction of the building. Human beings experience relationships through forms. The way that a child experiences love is through the presence of a parent. So the voice of the parent, the predictable routines at home—that's all the form in which the relationship takes place. The same thing is true of a marriage. A marriage is held together by a shared home. There's the ordinary structure of everyday life that we all go through. It's how we experience our love for another. What happens when the structure disappears? The person is left wondering whether the relationship has disappeared along with the form. That's the crisis that Kallah Yisrael finds itself in after the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. It's not only that an important building has been lost for Kallah Yisrael.

3:43 There's a question at the heart of the post-Beis Hamikdash reality within the world of Golems. Does this relationship still exist? If it does, where does it exist? A child does not know how to experience a parent if a parent is not present. A wife or a husband do not know how to experience the other if they're not present. That's why long distance relationships don't work. What precisely is the nature of our relationship in a post Beis Hamikdash reality? The Gemara in Megillah twenty nine a. And that's the Gemara we're going to be focusing on for the rest of this year. It's a very deep Gemara with a lot of very profound ideas. We're going to really do a deep dive into this Gemara, and hopefully, we're going to come out with something meaningful. The Gemara in Megillah 29a starts off with a brisa that quotes Rashi and Bar Yochai. Rashi and Bar Yochai says, "Bohu rei kamacharid in Yisrael of men kodesh baruchu shabachol matom shadalu sh'tine iman."

4:47 So Rishon b'Reyohchai says, 'Come and see how beloved is Klali Yisroel. That in any place that Klali Yisroel goes to galus, The Shchina goes to galus along with us. And ultimately, when we're redeemed, The Shchina will be redeemed along with us.' There's three obvious questions at this point in the Gemara. We're going to ask a lot of questions. The first question is: What does it mean that a published parfum comes with us in Tagalus? What does that mean? The second question is, why is this an expression of how beloved we are? If we were beloved, we'd still have the basic parfum. It's like we got the patch, and then we're being told that the father loved us while he was patching us. That's not really an expression of belovedness. What does Rishon Bayachai mean when he says, come to Chaviv in Israel. Look how beloved Chaviv Israel is. The Hakadosh Baruch Hu comes with us and takes us.

5:49 How about the Omre Golsim takes us at all? And finally, we would expect that the Shvina is present in Eretz Yisrael. And when we return to Eretz Yisrael, the Shvina will be sort of restored. Yet the Gemara says that what's actually happening is that Hakadosh Baruch Hu is being redeemed along with us. What does it mean that a kol shmo'afim can be redeemed? What does it mean the Shvina can be redeemed? What does it mean the Shvina can go down? So at this point of the Gemara, things are very unclear. We have three questions in front of us. The Gemara continues and asks, "Where is the shpina in Bavel? When Klal Yisrael goes into Bavel, where is the shpina?" And surprisingly, the Gemara gives an answer to this question. The Gemara says it's in two places actually. It's in a shul called Hutzal, and in another shul that's rebuilt or destroyed and rebuilt in Nahardal.

6:52 Now we're going to discuss this at length. What that means, the Gemara says that the Shvina was in these two shuls, and the Gemara says you should know the Shvina is never in one of these. It's never in both places at once. It's either in Hutzal or it's in Nahardal. But it's not in both places at once. And then Abayah said, 'He said, "You should know, I am going to be blessed, and I have a blessing, I have a bracha coming to me, because whenever I'm within a parsing of one of these shuls' Meaning whenever I'm close, I go in and I daven in one of these shuls. So again, it's a very strange gemara. What is the significance of these shuls that the shemira goes to one of these two shuls? Why can't the Shechina be in both of these schools at once? And why is Avayah saying, 'Taste me, like I have a breath that's coming to me because I go to daven in these schools?' What is Avayah saying? So now we're up to six questions on this Gemara.

7:55 For those keeping track at home, let's continue going a little bit deeper, and we'll see that there's a little bit more to unpack. The Gemara says that the father of Shmuel and Levi. Two separate people. The father of Shmuel was one person, and a man named Lavi was a great tzaddik. They were once sitting in the shul in the Har Dach. This shul that was destroyed and rebuilt in the Har Dach. The father of Shmuel and Lavi were sitting in that shul, and the shchina came to the shul. And they heard a loud noise. So they got up and they left the shul because the shchina was clearly there. Rosh Hashanahs was sitting in the shul in the haredi, and the shvina came, but he didn't go out. Roshesha stayed, and the malachim came, and they started to try to scare Roshesha's in order to get them to leave. And Roshesha turns to Kolish Barahu and he says, "This doesn't make any sense. I'm infirm."

8:57 I have an infirmity. I'm blind. I'm an infirm person. The malachim, they're whole. They're fine. They're regular. So, shouldn't the one who is blind give way to the one who is blind? Why should I defer to the Malachim? The Malachim should defer to me. And Hakadosh Baruch Hu said to the Malachim, "Leave your sheisus in the shul." So again, very strange Gemara. Let's try to get a little bit deep into the Gemara here. What's the significance of the fact that when the shchina comes into the shul There's a loud sound that comes with the shchina? Why does the father of Shmuel and Levi? Why do they leave when the Shkina comes in, and why does Rosheshes stay? If the right thing to do is to leave, then why does Rosheshes stay? And Rosheshes is now like being scared by the Malafib. What is the symbology here, and what is Rosheshes' argument to Hakabush Baruch? I am blind; they're fine. I should be the one to stay.

10:00 And why is this a big kiddush that Hakadosh Baruch Hu agrees? So I think we have ten questions here. It's a lot of questions. It's a very deep gemara. Let's try now to spend a couple of minutes unpacking some of the depth of the wisdom that this gemara is offering us. What is gullus? The fact that Hakadosh Baruch Hu sends us into gullus—it often feels and appears. To demonstrate a certain rejection If a person lives with the voice of shame, when a person is exiled, that voice of shame says, "I'm no longer wanted. I'm no longer worthy of being in this relationship." And that's what Rashi is coming to confront. Rashi is coming to address a psychology that every one of us in this zuchat has right now. There's an underlying shame that exists in the polytheist. Most of us haven't processed our shame, but it's there.

11:04 If I was so beloved, why am I here? What are we doing here? If I was so beloved, we would live together. It's like a wife saying to the husband, "I love you. If you love me, why can't I come back home? Why can't you come back home? Why do we have to live in this exilic state?" So there's an undercurrent of shame that exists in polytheism. That needs to be called out. The shame is, I am unworthy of love and connection. That's what all of us, in a certain way, are experiencing. And Rav Shimon Bar Yochai, in his classic way, comes to address this shame, and he says, "It's not only that you've not been rejected. In fact, it's exactly the opposite. Exile has changed the condition of the relationship. It has changed the forum where the relationship occurs. It has not changed the fundamental attachment that we have to the aboriginal, though it has adopted a new posture."

12:06 And the proof of our belovedness is now that Gollus never handles. The proof is that Gollus never means abandonment. Psychologically, a secure relationship is not one where there's no conflict. It's not one where there's no distance. Healthy relationships have distance. Healthy relationships have conflict. Healthy relationships involve retreating to our separate corners. It happens sometimes. It's not an easy process. But in a secure relationship, we know that just because there's been a rupture, it does not mean that I've been abandoned. And in fact, we know as adults that in order for the relationship to deepen, it has to undergo periods of distance. And the reason it has to go through periods of distance is because the relationship needs to evolve. And so, a relationship that has no rupture and repair is not a relationship that's ever evolving. And so, Roshim Bayolchai is coming to attune us. To what's actually going on in Gullivs? What's actually going on in Gullivs is as follows: the relationship right now is in a period of rupture. The relationship is developing, and that requires distance. But do not think for one second that rupture means abandonment. In a secure relationship, even as the relationship is changing force, it is changing forms. There's still a deep sense of belonging.

13:40 There's a sense that I am held within the relationship itself, which is what Rishon Baya'ohai is coming to say. Hashem descends into Golus with us and returns with us from Golus, which means we share the journey of exile together. Hashem is not waiting in Eretz Yisrael for us to find our way home. He's entered into Golus with us. He emerges from Golus together with us. Which means that Hakadosh Baruch Hu, so to speak, and this is the brilliance of why Rishon Baruch Hai is articulating it. Hakadosh Baruch Hu is with us in the rupture. The best way I know how to think about this, and I hope this resonates with you, is a husband who's fighting with his wife. They share the distance together. That's a good articulation of it. They've created distance from each other, but distance is a space. So it's like I'm on one side of the distance; you're on the other side of the distance. That's usually the way we're thinking about it. But actually, what's happening is we share the distance together, and that's where the distance is palpable.

14:48 Sometimes, when you're in a fight with your husband or wife, there's such a deep distance, but you're both living in the distance together. It's why we're both feeling the tzar of the distance together. So what appears to be only distance is actually closeness. But it's closeness taking on the form of distance, and that's there's a sense of belovedness there. There's a sense of it's so painful to be in this distance because of how much we love each other. And so, what's actually happening is that we have to learn. Shimon Baruch Ha is coming to tell us in the beginning of this Gemara how to experience rupture. How do we experience the distance that exists between two people? And so it goes as follows. The next step of the Gemara is to understand what happens when two people are in a state of rupture. How do we survive that rupture? The Gemara comes along to tell us about these two shuls.

15:50 One shul is called Hutzal, and the other shul is called Shav Vyasuf, which means separation or destruction and rebuilding, which we'll soon explain. The Aruch tells us that this shul of Hutzal was located near the beis medrash of Ezra HaSopher. So that's the first thing that's known. In contrast, this shul called Shaf V'Yasev. The story Rashi tells us is that the Melech Yehoniah When the Kla Yisrael was exiled with him, they were taken from Eretz Yisrael to Babylon. So they brought with them the stones and the earth from Yerushalayim. And they used those stones and that earth to build this shul in Har Nod. So the reason why the shul is called Shaviv Yosiv is because they broke down the stones and the dirt from Yerushalayim and they rebuilt with those very same stones. They rebuilt that shul in Har Nod.

16:54 So we now have in front of us two shuls that have deep symbolic meaning. The shul of Hutzalim is the shul that represents our capacity to move forward. It's the shul that represents our capacity to establish new spiritual centers in foreign lands, wherever we are. We can continue to build new communities. In contrast, Shat Viyosim, the shul in Nahardam, represents our memory. It's the refusal to break ourselves off from Yerushalayim. Even after we're no longer in Yerushalayim, there's a sense of continuity that occurs even after the rupture. And after trauma, people often move towards one of two extremes. One possibility is that people disassociate from the past and they say that life is over. So now I need to become somebody completely different. Other people get fixated and they say I can't move forward because to move forward would be to betray what I lost.

18:00 And so, if you think about it, let's say as if Chas v'Shalom, somebody loses a loved one. Some people are just like, I'm not, I'm never going to talk about it again. I can't process this pain. I'm just moving on, and this version of myself has nothing to do with the previous version. Other people get fixated. They get stuck. They can't move on because they're like, if I move on, it's a betrayal. It means I'm leaving them behind. I refuse to move on. The Shul of Shafiyosif is really like an integration. It's I'm not going to pretend that Bavel is Yerushalayim. I'm not going to pretend that Yerushalayim never existed. It's taking the stones of the shattered home that I once belonged to, and I'm using those stones to build something new. So the new structure is genuinely new, but the old relationship is still present. In other words, the past becomes the construction material. So the bottom line is like this: a person in their life

19:06 If you build as though nothing was destroyed, you've lost something. If you've remained destroyed because something was lost, you've clearly lost something. But we're called upon to build the next structures of our lives out of the pieces that I'm able to carry from that past rupture. Jewish survival in Gullus requires both shuls. It requires responsibility for the future. That's hutzpah. The shul that's in the proximity of Israel HaSofer. It's our ability to establish new, to look forward, and to say, I'm not going to be trapped in the past. At the same time, Jewish survival requires faithfulness to the past. A line that I once heard that I appreciate very much is: Some Jews have no sense of destiny. And some Jews have no sense of history. So when you speak to different communities, some communities will always talk about the past and what was and how beautiful, and they're living in that past. But sometimes they get stuck and they don't know how to move into the future.

20:08 Other communities are very good at looking into the future of Talmudic Israel, and they're accused by the other community of having severed themselves from the past. The truth is that for a Jew to survive in Galus requires both movements at once. We have to be able to have a deep sense of history, carrying that history into the present, and we have to, from the present, look towards the future to rebuild so that we can have new centers, new lives that allow us to continue to move forward. So we have to have a sense of memory without becoming paralyzed by our memory, and we have to have a sense of a future without losing our past. What's interesting is the Gemara says that the Shemina never dwells in these two shuls at once. On the surface level, what that means is the shchina is an exile, the shchina is a galus, but it's never concentrated in one place. It's not like the base on Megbash. It's always sort of vacillating because the shchina itself doesn't exactly have a home.

21:13 That's the simple explanation of the Gemara. But the deeper explanation of the Gemara is perhaps as follows. When we look at these two movements—the movement of history and the movement of destiny—they each operate in their own world. Sometimes we have to learn to look towards the future. Sometimes we have to look to learn towards the past. The present moment is always somewhere between the past and the future. At certain moments, we have to turn towards what was lost. That's the period that we're in right now, of the three weeks and the nine days. Now is the time to remember, to grieve, to feel what was lost. And at other moments, we have to turn towards the restoration. We have to accept upon ourselves that it's our responsibility to build a new future. This is sort of represented, I think, in the two sides of Teshuvah. Until Chazos, we're always in the past, mourning what was. After Chazos, we get up. In fact, there was a minig in Yerushalayim. I don't know if you know this. There was a minig in Yerushalayim to wash the floors on.

22:17 After Chatsos and Tishbev, because they were preparing for Mashiach's arrival, we live with these two consciousnesses. The consciousness of the past, the consciousness of the future, but never at once. We're always vacillating between the two, and that's how we build the present. Somewhere in between these two moments, Hashem does not demand from us, on any level, Chas v'Shalom, that the mourner should remain permanently immersed in the loss of the past. Nor does Hashem demand from us that we have to become so productive that we don't experience the loss. That we're not able to truly feel the loss. There's a time to remember. There's a time to rebuild. And the present moment always lives between these two moments. Sometimes it's my opportunity to immerse myself in the loss and really grieve. Sometimes it's time to let go of that grief and rebuild something. And each moment feeds the other. The question now becomes: How do we relate to each other? How do we relate to the Shema? What happens now? We're in Gavas

23:24 And we understand, Hashem by Yofay said, The relationship is taking on new forms. Hashem is with us in the distance, and Hashem in that distance is calling upon us to maintain our loyalty to what was, but also to build something in the future. That's what's happening now in the development of our relationship with Hashem. So when we do encounter the Shein and Guls, what is our responsibility? And Abayya says, Whenever I'm near these two Shuls I walk there. I walk. If I'm there, if I'm within a parslaying, I walk there. What is that? What's the significance of Abayya walking to Shul? Abayya is telling us it's a mini Aliyah L'Arabia. It's a mini aliyah le'radom. Just like I used to walk towards the Beis HaMikdash, now I walk towards the Shchina and Gullus. That's part of my journey: walking towards the Shchina and Gullus. Which is an unbelievable thing to think about here. Because there's a very beautiful contrast that way.

24:28 The Shchina has gone into Gullus with us, and Abaye travels towards the Shchina. In other words, Hashem is moving towards the Jew. And the Jew is responding by moving towards Hashem. There's a reciprocity in the relationship, and this is extremely important because it reverses our notion of helplessness. When we think about exile, exile is like something imposed upon us. Chaliyusrael didn't want to leave Yerushalayim. That's what happens with trauma. Trauma often creates the feeling that my life is being controlled by outside forces. Abaye says, "I can't reverse the exile. But I can choose my orientation. I can't walk into the base of the Gash, but I can still be Ola Redi. I can still find the Shpina and Gallas, and I can walk towards it. And through his walk, what is Avayi saying? He's saying I don't control where history has taken me, but I do control how I operate within the Gallas. I'm always walking towards Hashem, and so it's a fascinating thing to think about. If we follow from the beginning of the year what we've said so far."

25:36 And it's a very profound concept that Chazal are telling us. We begin the story with distance. Our relationship is taking on new contours. It's developing. Rishon Bayochai says you haven't been abandoned. It's a secure relationship. There's distance, but you're both living within the distance. That's a very profound concept. How do I operate in this distance? Two ways at once. You've got to vacillate between the two of them, looking towards the past. Looking towards the future. But Abayah comes and he tells us whether you're looking towards the past or you're looking towards the future. You're oriented towards walking towards her. Just try to humanize this for a second. To put it into language that we can understand. When a husband and a wife are in a fight with each other and there's a great distance between them, but they're both living within the distance. They're learning how to walk towards each other in the distance. It's not an easy thing to do because I know how to be in a relationship with you when things are going well. How am I supposed to operate in a relationship with you when things are not going well at all? How am I supposed to be in a relationship with you when we're not even living together?

26:49 And the answer is, I'm always oriented towards you. I'm always walking towards you. I'm still engaged. I haven't abandoned the relationship. We're going through a process together. And that takes a lot of faith. It takes a lot of faith to look at Hashem and to say, 'I know that you've come with me into galus. I know that you're with me in this pain, and that's why I continue to walk towards you. Whether I'm looking towards the future or looking towards the past, everything is orienting towards finding Hashem in the darkness.' Like the famous, beautiful line from Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, 'I'm playing hide and go seek with God, and I'm finding Him everywhere.' That's the most beautiful thing we could do. That even in the darkness, we are relentless in constantly orienting ourselves towards finding the Kodesh Baruch Hu. So what happens now? I walk into my mini base of Mikdash. I walk into my shul. I'm oriented towards finding Hashem, and now I've encountered the Shechina. I'm there in the distance.

27:53 I meet Hashem. Now we have two models in front of us. The model of Avuah the Shmuel and Levi and the model of Rav Sheshus. So let's look at what happens. Avuah the Shmuel, the father of Shmuel and Levi, they hear a sound. They know the Shpinahs entered. What is that sound? The sound is the entourage of the malachim accompanying Hashem. That's the sound. Because remember, what happens when Rosh Hashanah refuses to leave? Who is the one that starts a fight with Rosh Hashanah? It's the malachim. So clearly, the malachim are present when Hashem comes into the shul. When Hashem comes into the shul, you can imagine the king is coming with his entourage of malachim. The father of Shmuel and Levi are sitting there. The noise gets loud and they go, 'Whoa, the Shema is here.' What do they do? They leave the shul. That's so counterintuitive. You finally found Hakadosh Baruch Hu in Dallas and you leave.

28:54 I even imagine if I was the father. That's like I'm encountering Hashem, and now I'm going to leave. It's exactly the opposite. Something very precious, something very profound is happening. What's happening in Galus is that Avrua the Shmuel and Levi are pulling back to make room for the relationship to exist, even though they might have been desperate to stay. We don't have a base on Mikdash, and now I finally have the opportunity to meet Hakadosh Baruch Hu in a mini base on Mikdash in a shul in the Haridah. What an unbelievable thing! The nature of the relationship is I pull back to make space for another. We forget that sometimes. Relationships exist in between. Relationships exist in the shared space in between. That's where a relationship is. It's not in me and it's not in you. It's the space in between. I once heard that from a marriage therapist. Brilliant line. He said, "I'm not speaking to a husband and I'm not speaking to a wife. I'm speaking to the space in between them." Because that's where the relationship is.

30:02 How do we make that relationship? How do I create that space in between? If I'm a narcissist, if I'm a Bogdava, if I'm full of ego, there is no space for the relationship to exist. So where is a relationship where I pull myself back to allow for another to join me in a relationship? So now the father of Shulam live in Gogos, in their state of exile, in the darkness. They meet Hakadosh Baruch Hu. What an unbelievably profound thing! And what's their response? Their response is, 'We're going to leave. Not only Hakadosh Baruch Hu, Tazmosh B'shalah. We're going to make space. We're going to respect and honor that the Shema is here in this moment. We're making a space for the Shema to be held in that moment. So it's the ultimate act of humility, and that's a very beautiful thing. To know that when we're in a struggle with someone, when we're in, let's say again, let's bring it down to a human level, when we're in a fight with our spouse'

31:04 And now we finally find each other in the darkness, and I see you in the darkness. That's the opportunity to honor that relationship, not by pulling away, but by making space to say this space belongs to you. And that's kedush. This is a base of kedush, and the sh'tim is present. This is the kedushan kedush. There is a place where I am not, and that's actually the dignity of the relationship. It's I can pull back and allow you to be present. But Rosheshes comes along and he says something even deeper. Remember that Rosheshes was blind, and his argument is fundamentally like this: I'm vulnerable. I'm blind. Why should I be displaced for the malachim who are whole? And what does Hashem say? Leave him alone. He's right. Let him stay. So the Yairvitz explains that Rishesheis may have been physically unable to leave without assistance because he was blind, and the Malachim were trying to frighten him into doing something that he couldn't do. He was blind.

32:05 How could he leave the shul by himself? He didn't have anybody to help him. So the Malachim are scaring him to try to get him to do something that he's incapable of doing. And what do the malachim not understand? The malachim think that to honor Hakadosh Baruch Hu is to require a weak person to move. That's what they think. They think in your state of weakness, pull back. You have to honor the relationship, even if you're not capable. Find the capacity to pull back and honor the relationship. Comes the owner of Sheshas, and he makes the following argument. It's such a precious argument. His argument is like this: Who should make room for whom? The stronger party is the one that bears responsibility to accommodate the weaker party. Hashem, you are the stronger party. Make room for our infirmity. Make room for our vulnerability and gallus. That's an unbelievably deep thing that Rosh Hashanah is saying.

33:09 Why? Because the Shemina has come into Galus precisely because Hashem refuses to abandon vulnerable Jews. So Rav Sheshet says, On the one hand, you're the model of the father of Shmuel and Levi pulling back to honor the relationship. What does Rav Sheshet say? Hashem, I know why you sent us into Galus, and I know why you followed us into Galus. There's distance. The relationship is taking on new contours. It's developing. Hashem, Rosh Hashanah says, 'I know what you're looking for. You want us to recognize that you care about us in our state of vulnerability. You are the stronger party. Hold us. We're begging you to hold us in our state of vulnerability. We're turning towards you and saying, 'Can you please hold this relationship?' The Beis Hamikdash was the place that everyone traveled to in order to find Hashem. In Gulas, the moment is reversed. Hashem travels to us; He travels to where His vulnerable children are.

34:13 So it's an unbelievable role reversal. We tend to think we were kicked out of Eretz Yisrael. That's not the right way of thinking about it. The right way of thinking about it is we had to leave, but Hashem follows us. He says, 'I'm going to take care of you. If you're vulnerable, I'm right there with you.' That's the nature of what it means to be in a relationship with our Kol Yisgurofil. So Hashem says, 'Leave him be.' Hashem doesn't say make an exception for Rosh Hashanah. He says, 'Leave him be,' because Hashem understands. And He's teaching the Malachim, and by extension, He's teaching all of the Jewish people that Rosh Hashanah represents. The entire purpose of the Shema in Gallas is to make sure that the vulnerable Jew never feels left alone. So when the Shema appears to conflict with human vulnerability, Hashem reveals that His ultimate majesty is expressed through remaining with the vulnerable.

35:14 And that's an unbelievable lesson for us because that's really what God calls upon us to do for each other. To ask ourselves very honestly, who is the vulnerable party? Who needs to hold the womb? All of us are called upon to act like a kabbalish baruch hu in galus. Every single one of us is called upon to engage with those who have less in galus. That's our opportunity to be malechesed. We have a responsibility to hold each other. You're infirm in some way; I'm whole in another. I'm supposed to hold you. I'm infirm in some way, and you're whole in another. You're supposed to hold me. This is the tragedy of why we're still in galus. Each one of us thinking that I don't have the capacity to help you unless you can figure it out for yourself. It's almost like we're trying to frighten each other into a certain type of behavior. We're yelling at each other across the table when really what we need is to be taking responsibility to say, 'I'm whole and you are vulnerable. It's my responsibility to hold you.'

36:16 That's the way we deeply connect to each other, and that's the way we're meant to encounter the Shema in love. If we look at this Gemara in its totality, the Gemara is telling us. I would think one of the most fundamental lessons in our relationship with Hashem is number one: the relationship survives the destruction of its current form. Just because we don't have a base on Yud Shva doesn't mean we don't have a relationship with Hashem. That's step one. Just because the base on Yud Shva is destroyed doesn't mean we're abandoned. Step two, the relationship itself is portable. I'm now taking that relationship into a new place. I'm looking backwards. I'm taking the past with me—the stones of Eretz Yisrael, the dirt of Eretz Yisrael—they come with me wherever I go. If I'm in Cleveland or New York or New Jersey or Chicago or Los Angeles, wherever I am in the world, I'm taking the stones of Eretz Yisrael and I'm rebuilding. Our past becomes our present, and at the same time, Hutzal—I'm looking forward. I'm looking.

37:18 To Ezra and Sopher, what type of new communities can I build? How can I develop this into something that was not yet? Because in this state of rupture, there's an opportunity not just to get back to what was, but to build something that has not yet ever been. The relationship is reciprocal. Hashem travels towards us; Abaye travels towards Him. It doesn't matter where I am in the world; I'm always oriented towards moving towards our Kol D'varim. And finally, the purpose of the galus is that the shetina should be revealed through vulnerability. Some people are capable of moving aside and making space for the relationship. But there are times where we need to bring our vulnerability to Hakadosh Baruch Hu and say, "I can't move." And in those times, our emuna tells us that the shetina is making room for us. Hashem's presence is not distancing that space; it's accompanying us as we're vulnerable. I think we have an unbelievable opportunity in front of us. They're talking now. We don't know what's going to be with Iran again.

38:24 They're talking about starting up again. Here we go again. I got a message from somebody. I can't say who, and he said, 'Prepare your mamad. The water is back in the mamad.' I told my kids maybe there's going to be a sirene. We hope that there won't be, but it could be that there will be. So once again, we find ourselves in a state of extreme vulnerability. There are times where we move away to make space for our kedush baruch hu. But I think we're being called upon, especially these last couple of years. To turn towards Hashem and to say, 'Akedush baruch hu, I'm vulnerable, and I'm asking you to please help me.' I want to wish everybody a meaningful tish above. I hope that this tish above will be the last tish above. I hope that Mashiach will greet us on tish above the afternoon. That we will sponge our floors, and that we will come to Hakadosh Baruch Hu and say, 'Please, it's time to take us out of Kodesh.' Wow!