Shabbat Nachamu: A Journey from Mourning to Comfort
Navigating the Eternal Hope of the Jewish People
(Originally prepared as a text study for Edgewater Minyan in Chicago, IL. Shabbat, 16 August 2024 • 12 Av 5784)
The days leading up to Tisha B'Av are among the most challenging in the Jewish calendar. We immerse ourselves in the depths of sorrow, recalling the tragedies that have befallen our people, from the destruction of the Temples to the countless other calamities that have scarred our history. The weight of our collective grief is palpable, as we fast and sit on the floor in mourning, feeling the echoes of destruction that continue to reverberate through the generations.
Yet, as soon as Tisha B'Av concludes, we are immediately greeted by a shift—a transition from despair to hope, embodied in Shabbat Nachamu, the "Shabbat of Comfort." This Shabbat derives its name from the Haftarah we read, which begins with the words, "Nachamu, Nachamu Ami" ("Comfort, oh comfort, My people" - Isaiah 40:1). The stark contrast between the anguish of Tisha B'Av and the soothing promise of Shabbat Nachamu can be jarring, but it also serves as a profound reminder of the resilience and enduring hope that are integral to our identity as Jews.
The stark contrast between the anguish of Tisha B'Av and the soothing promise of Shabbat Nachamu serves as a profound reminder of the resilience and enduring hope that are integral to our identity as Jews.
Isaiah’s words, which call for comfort, are not just a balm for the wounds of the past; they are a declaration that our suffering has not been in vain. "Speak tenderly to Jerusalem," the prophet urges, "and declare to her that her term of service is over, that her iniquity is expiated" (Isaiah 40:2). This promise of comfort, however, comes with a responsibility. The Torah portion from Parashat Va'etchanan reinforces this by reminding us that in times of distress, if we seek God with all of our heart and soul, we will find The Merciful One. God is compassionate and will not forsake us, but it is our duty to return to The Eternal and remain faithful to the covenant (Deuteronomy 4:29-31).
These texts suggest a deep interplay between divine comfort and human responsibility. Yes, God offers comfort, but it is up to us to seek it, to actively participate in the process of redemption. The comfort of Shabbat Nachamu is not merely about feeling better after a period of mourning; it is about recognizing that with comfort comes the call to action—to reflect, to return to our roots, and to rebuild.
This theme is further explored in the relationship between mourning for Jerusalem and the promise of future joy and peace. The Talmud in Ta'anit 30b teaches us, "Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad with her, all who love her; rejoice for joy with her, all who mourn for her" (Isaiah 66:10). This implies that only those who truly mourn for Jerusalem will merit to see its future joy. Mourning is not just about expressing grief; it is about staying connected to Jerusalem, to our history, and to the vision of what Jerusalem represents—a beacon of peace and spiritual fulfillment.
Isaiah’s prophecy in chapter two offers a vision of this future: a time when the Mount of God’s House will stand firm above all, and nations will stream to it, seeking guidance in God's ways. It is a vision of a world where swords are turned into plowshares, and nations no longer learn war (Isaiah 2:2-4). This messianic vision of global peace is intimately tied to our relationship with Jerusalem and our connection to God. It suggests that the comfort we seek is not just personal or communal but universal, extending to all humanity.
However, as I reflect on the events of October 7 and the senseless massacres that took place, I am reminded of the deep divisions that continue to plague our people. The Talmud teaches that the Second Temple was destroyed due to sinat chinam—baseless hatred among Jews. Today, that same hatred seems to rear its ugly head again. The divisions within our community—Reform vs. Orthodox, religious vs. secular, anti-Zionist vs. Zionist—are painfully apparent. In the immediate aftermath of October 7, there was a brief, fleeting moment of unity among Am Yisrael. We came together in our grief and horror, supporting one another as we faced yet another existential threat.
But that unity was short-lived. As the days and weeks passed, the old divisions resurfaced, and the in-fighting resumed. We have driven those with whom we disagree on religious practice or political action from our communities, or they have left themselves in self-imposed exile. Each side has retreated into its echo chamber, finding comfort in the safety of like-minded individuals. But this comfort is illusory; it is a false peace that masks the underlying fractures in our collective soul.
As we move from the comfort of Shabbat Nachamu into the month of Elul, a time of self-reflection and preparation for the High Holidays, we are reminded that this comfort is indeed short-lived. The existential threats facing the Jewish people in every generation, including our own, are real and pressing. Yet, the transition from mourning to comfort to introspection reflects the cyclical nature of our spiritual journey. We are constantly moving between these states, always seeking to balance our grief with hope, our comfort with responsibility, and our present challenges with the vision of a better future.
The transition from mourning to comfort to introspection reflects the cyclical nature of our spiritual journey . . . always seeking to balance our grief with hope, our comfort with responsibility, and our present challenges with the vision of a better future.
In this journey, Shabbat Nachamu serves as a crucial waypoint. It reminds us that even in the depths of despair, there is always the promise of comfort and redemption. But it also challenges us to consider how we are actively contributing to the realization of this promise—how we are mourning, how we are returning to God, and how we are preparing ourselves and our world for the ultimate vision of peace and harmony.
This year, as I navigate the transition from Tisha B'Av to Shabbat Nachamu and then into the introspective month of Elul, I find myself reflecting deeply on these themes. The comfort offered by Isaiah is not a passive state but an invitation to engage with the world around me, to mourn deeply, to hope fervently, and to act with intention. In this way, the journey from mourning to comfort becomes a powerful catalyst for personal and communal transformation, guiding us toward the future joy and peace that we are all striving to achieve.
Sources:
Isaiah 40:1-2 — “Comfort, oh comfort, My people, Says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, And declare to her That her term of service is over, That her iniquity is expiated; For she has received at GOD’s hand Double for all her sins.”
נַחֲמ֥וּ נַחֲמ֖וּ עַמִּ֑י יֹאמַ֖ר אֱלֹֽקיכֶֽם׃ דַּבְּר֞וּ עַל־לֵ֤ב יְרוּשָׁלַ֙͏ִם֙ וְקִרְא֣וּ אֵלֶ֔יהָ כִּ֤י מָֽלְאָה֙ צְבָאָ֔הּ כִּ֥י נִרְצָ֖ה עֲוֺנָ֑הּ כִּ֤י לָֽקְחָה֙ מִיַּ֣ד ה׳ כִּפְלַ֖יִם בְּכׇל־חַטֹּאתֶֽיהָ׃
Deuteronomy 4:29-31 — “But if you search there, you will find the ETERNAL your God, if only you seek with all your heart and soul— when you are in distress because all these things have befallen you and, in the end, return to and obey the ETERNAL your God. For the ETERNAL your God is a compassionate God, who will not fail you nor let you perish. The covenant made on oath with your fathers will not be forgotten.”
וּבִקַּשְׁתֶּ֥ם מִשָּׁ֛ם אֶת־ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ וּמָצָ֑אתָ כִּ֣י תִדְרְשֶׁ֔נּוּ בְּכׇל־לְבָבְךָ֖ וּבְכׇל־נַפְשֶֽׁךָ׃ בַּצַּ֣ר לְךָ֔ וּמְצָא֕וּךָ כֹּ֖ל הַדְּבָרִ֣ים הָאֵ֑לֶּה בְּאַחֲרִית֙ הַיָּמִ֔ים וְשַׁבְתָּ֙ עַד־ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ וְשָׁמַעְתָּ֖ בְּקֹלֽוֹ׃ כִּ֣י אֵ֤ל רַחוּם֙ ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ לֹ֥א יַרְפְּךָ֖ וְלֹ֣א יַשְׁחִיתֶ֑ךָ וְלֹ֤א יִשְׁכַּח֙ אֶת־בְּרִ֣ית אֲבֹתֶ֔יךָ אֲשֶׁ֥ר נִשְׁבַּ֖ע לָהֶֽם׃
Talmud Bavli, Ta'anit 30b — “Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad with her, all who love her; rejoice for joy with her, all who mourn for her” (Isaiah 66:10). From here it is stated: Whoever mourns for Jerusalem will merit and see her future joy, and whoever does not mourn for Jerusalem will not see her future joy.”
״שִׂמְחוּ אֶת יְרוּשָׁלִַים וְגִילוּ בָהּ כׇּל אֹהֲבֶיהָ שִׂישׂוּ אִתָּהּ מָשׂוֹשׂ כׇּל הַמִּתְאַבְּלִים עָלֶיהָ״, מִכָּאן אָמְרוּ: כׇּל הַמִּתְאַבֵּל עַל יְרוּשָׁלַיִם — זוֹכֶה וְרוֹאֶה בְּשִׂמְחָתָהּ, וְשֶׁאֵינוֹ מִתְאַבֵּל עַל יְרוּשָׁלַיִם — אֵינוֹ רוֹאֶה בְּשִׂמְחָתָהּ.
Isaiah 2:2-4 — “In the days to come, The Mount of GOD’s House Shall stand firm above the mountains And tower above the hills; And all the nations Shall gaze on it with joy. And the many peoples shall go and say: ‘Come, Let us go up to the Mount of GOD, To the House of the God of Jacob; That we may be instructed in God’s ways, And that we may walk in God’s paths.’ For instruction shall come forth from Zion, The word of GOD from Jerusalem. Thus [God] will judge among the nations And arbitrate for the many peoples, And they shall beat their swords into plowshares And their spears into pruning hooks: Nation shall not take up Sword against nation; They shall never again know war.”
וְהָיָ֣ה ׀ בְּאַחֲרִ֣ית הַיָּמִ֗ים נָכ֨וֹן יִֽהְיֶ֜ה הַ֤ר בֵּית־ה׳ בְּרֹ֣אשׁ הֶהָרִ֔ים וְנִשָּׂ֖א מִגְּבָע֑וֹת וְנָהֲר֥וּ אֵלָ֖יו כׇּל־הַגּוֹיִֽם׃ וְֽהָלְכ֞וּ עַמִּ֣ים רַבִּ֗ים וְאָֽמְרוּ֙ לְכ֣וּ ׀ וְנַעֲלֶ֣ה אֶל־הַר־ה׳ אֶל־בֵּית֙ אֱלֹקי יַעֲקֹ֔ב וְיֹרֵ֙נוּ֙ מִדְּרָכָ֔יו וְנֵלְכָ֖ה בְּאֹרְחֹתָ֑יו כִּ֤י מִצִּיּ֣וֹן תֵּצֵ֣א תוֹרָ֔ה וּדְבַר־ה' מִירוּשָׁלָֽ͏ִם׃ וְשָׁפַ֙ט בֵּ֣ין הַגּוֹיִ֔ם וְהוֹכִ֖יחַ לְעַמִּ֣ים רַבִּ֑ים וְכִתְּת֨וּ חַרְבוֹתָ֜ם לְאִתִּ֗ים וַחֲנִיתֽוֹתֵיהֶם֙ לְמַזְמֵ֔רוֹת לֹא־יִשָּׂ֨א ג֤וֹי אֶל־גּ֙וֹי֙ חֶ֔רֶב וְלֹֽא־יִלְמְד֥וּ ע֖וֹד מִלְחָמָֽה׃