Table of Contents
Tzom Gedaliah: Our Part in Bringing the Redemption
In the haftara of Yeshayahu 55:6 read on fast days it says: “Seek G‑d while He may be found, call Him when He is near.” This makes two references: 10 Days of Teshuva and communal prayer. When communities pray together, G-d comes closer. In addition, prayer during these days takes on a greater significance – causing G-d to draw near – so how much more so with communal prayer during the 10 Days of Teshuva?
Communal fasting is also seen to bring about the Redemption, when goodness will spread around the world. The haftara also says: “And my House will be called a house of prayer for all nations.”
The fast of Gedaliah has an even closer link to the Era of Redemption. Some commentators believe that Gedaliah was from the House of David, and the last of that family who had authority over the Land of Israel. Thus there is a connection between the “day of Divine goodwill” and “the scion of David,” aka Moshiach – who IS the redemption.
In addition, the very name Gedaliah is connected to redemption, being that the route of the name is Gadol and Hashem – Hashem is great. When the redemption comes, G-d’s greatness will be known throughout the world.
So, in a small part, for individuals fasting on Tzom Gedaliah, we are playing a part in bringing about the final redemption.
In the haftara of Yeshayahu 55:6 read on fast days it says: “Seek G‑d while He may be found, call Him when He is near.” This makes two references: 10 Days of Teshuva and communal prayer. When communities pray together, G-d comes closer. In addition, prayer during these days takes on a greater significance – causing G-d to draw near – so how much more so with communal prayer during the 10 Days of Teshuva?
Communal fasting is also seen to bring about the Redemption, when goodness will spread around the world. The haftara also says: “And my House will be called a house of prayer for all nations.”
The fast of Gedaliah has an even closer link to the Era of Redemption. Some commentators believe that Gedaliah was from the House of David, and the last of that family who had authority over the Land of Israel. Thus there is a connection between the “day of Divine goodwill” and “the scion of David,” aka Moshiach – who IS the redemption.
In addition, the very name Gedaliah is connected to redemption, being that the route of the name is Gadol and Hashem – Hashem is great. When the redemption comes, G-d’s greatness will be known throughout the world.
So, in a small part, for individuals fasting on Tzom Gedaliah, we are playing a part in bringing about the final redemption.
Redefining the Yom Kippur-Purim Balance
Yom Kippur is supposed to be the happiest day of the year. But happy doesn’t necessarily mean smiling all the time. Sometimes, happy can be when we’re crying. The gematria of Simcha (happiness) is the same as that for geshem (rain). What do we know about rain? It can give us so much good but can be challenging as well. When it’s too much, too intense, it can be destructive. But when the area has been vacant of it for so long, even if it comes in an intense way, it can be so appreciated and enjoyed. That’s one of the messages of Yom Kippur; the reality and challenge of happiness.
In this day and age, sometimes being a good Jew can be very difficult. We’re surrounded by so many influences; it’s hard to walk away from them. When G-d asked Kain “where is your brother?” he replies “Am I my brother’s keeper?” This answer is him saying, “I’m not; You are.” If You, Hashem, didn’t want him to sin, he wouldn’t have done; You would have made him not sin. But this is a cop out. This is what we all do all the time. We say we can’t and it’s hard and it is hard. But G-d doesn’t expect us to get it right all the time as, if He did, he would have made us angels and He davka chose not to. We have to just keep on trying and so the answer G-d should have given Kain should have been yes, you are your brother’s keeper. Because we all are. Kol arayvim zeh b’zeh we are all responsible for each other. That’s why there are 613 mitzvot and many we can’t do alone. That’s why we get married; that’s why we develop communities and that’s why we’re supportive. Because no-one can do it alone. We are all our brother’s keepers and if we don’t realize that on Yom Kippur, if we don’t figure out on this one day of the year how important it is to care for our brothers then we’re not fulfilling G-d’s purpose of us as human beings – to pick each other up and, perhaps even more crucially, to let others pick us up.
In the same way that we have to look out for each other, our spiritual side has to look out for our physical side and vice versa. It’s no good to try to be like angels – living not in the real world and not being at all exposed to all the influences. Again, G-d put us here davka amidst all the influences. Perhaps that is why the Torah calls Yom Kippur – Yom HaKiPurim – a day like Purim, indicating that what may at first seem like the holiest day of the year (YK) is only slightly like what may at first seem like the unholiest day of the year.
On closer inspection what it really means, according to the Vilna Gaon is that the two days are two sides of the same coin – what we do on Yom Kippur spiritually, we do on Purim physically but ultimately it’s basically the same thing. Even the actual preparations are the same (in an opposite way); the day before Purim we fast and the day after Yom Kippur we feast! What we ultimately learn from the two days is that Purim is the holier of the two. This is when we have the spiritual challenge, not the physical one. On Yom Kippur, stopping all physical things to make way for spiritual pursuits is easy; but stopping all spiritual pursuits to make way for physical activities – dressing up, getting drunk, feasting – is way harder vis-à-vis connecting to G-d.
When Kain asks “am I my brother’s keeper?” another way of seeing that question is “am I the keeper of my other side – my spiritual side (if I’m a more physically-influenced person) – or my physical side (if I’m a more spiritually inclined person). The challenge of both Yom Kippur and Purim is to become our brother’s keeper – on both days – with both parts of ourselves and with each other.
As Rabbi Eliyahu Kitov writes: "If one attains holiness through affliction, and another attains holiness through indulgence, who is the greater of the two? It may be said that the one who attains holiness through indulgence is greater, for the attainment of holiness through indulgence requires an infinitely greater degree of striving and effort." In this way, the challenge of Purim is greater. That’s why, buy comparison, Yom hakiPurim is only “a day like Purim.”
I beg to differ. Everyone has their strengths. The haredim for example, find it easier to follow all the laws and focus on the spiritual. Others are more physical-oriented. Thus whoever has an easier time with the physical stuff (those who love modern day gadgets etc.) need to focus on spiritual pursuits (Yom Kippur) and those whose focus is easier for physical pursuits should take time out to make their physical presence in the world a greater force (Purim).
We all have our challenges. It is important for us to each figure out where our strengths – and by virtue of that – where our challenges lie, and thereafter tackle the latter.
Yom Kippur is supposed to be the happiest day of the year. But happy doesn’t necessarily mean smiling all the time. Sometimes, happy can be when we’re crying. The gematria of Simcha (happiness) is the same as that for geshem (rain). What do we know about rain? It can give us so much good but can be challenging as well. When it’s too much, too intense, it can be destructive. But when the area has been vacant of it for so long, even if it comes in an intense way, it can be so appreciated and enjoyed. That’s one of the messages of Yom Kippur; the reality and challenge of happiness.
In this day and age, sometimes being a good Jew can be very difficult. We’re surrounded by so many influences; it’s hard to walk away from them. When G-d asked Kain “where is your brother?” he replies “Am I my brother’s keeper?” This answer is him saying, “I’m not; You are.” If You, Hashem, didn’t want him to sin, he wouldn’t have done; You would have made him not sin. But this is a cop out. This is what we all do all the time. We say we can’t and it’s hard and it is hard. But G-d doesn’t expect us to get it right all the time as, if He did, he would have made us angels and He davka chose not to. We have to just keep on trying and so the answer G-d should have given Kain should have been yes, you are your brother’s keeper. Because we all are. Kol arayvim zeh b’zeh we are all responsible for each other. That’s why there are 613 mitzvot and many we can’t do alone. That’s why we get married; that’s why we develop communities and that’s why we’re supportive. Because no-one can do it alone. We are all our brother’s keepers and if we don’t realize that on Yom Kippur, if we don’t figure out on this one day of the year how important it is to care for our brothers then we’re not fulfilling G-d’s purpose of us as human beings – to pick each other up and, perhaps even more crucially, to let others pick us up.
In the same way that we have to look out for each other, our spiritual side has to look out for our physical side and vice versa. It’s no good to try to be like angels – living not in the real world and not being at all exposed to all the influences. Again, G-d put us here davka amidst all the influences. Perhaps that is why the Torah calls Yom Kippur – Yom HaKiPurim – a day like Purim, indicating that what may at first seem like the holiest day of the year (YK) is only slightly like what may at first seem like the unholiest day of the year.
On closer inspection what it really means, according to the Vilna Gaon is that the two days are two sides of the same coin – what we do on Yom Kippur spiritually, we do on Purim physically but ultimately it’s basically the same thing. Even the actual preparations are the same (in an opposite way); the day before Purim we fast and the day after Yom Kippur we feast! What we ultimately learn from the two days is that Purim is the holier of the two. This is when we have the spiritual challenge, not the physical one. On Yom Kippur, stopping all physical things to make way for spiritual pursuits is easy; but stopping all spiritual pursuits to make way for physical activities – dressing up, getting drunk, feasting – is way harder vis-à-vis connecting to G-d.
When Kain asks “am I my brother’s keeper?” another way of seeing that question is “am I the keeper of my other side – my spiritual side (if I’m a more physically-influenced person) – or my physical side (if I’m a more spiritually inclined person). The challenge of both Yom Kippur and Purim is to become our brother’s keeper – on both days – with both parts of ourselves and with each other.
As Rabbi Eliyahu Kitov writes: "If one attains holiness through affliction, and another attains holiness through indulgence, who is the greater of the two? It may be said that the one who attains holiness through indulgence is greater, for the attainment of holiness through indulgence requires an infinitely greater degree of striving and effort." In this way, the challenge of Purim is greater. That’s why, buy comparison, Yom hakiPurim is only “a day like Purim.”
I beg to differ. Everyone has their strengths. The haredim for example, find it easier to follow all the laws and focus on the spiritual. Others are more physical-oriented. Thus whoever has an easier time with the physical stuff (those who love modern day gadgets etc.) need to focus on spiritual pursuits (Yom Kippur) and those whose focus is easier for physical pursuits should take time out to make their physical presence in the world a greater force (Purim).
We all have our challenges. It is important for us to each figure out where our strengths – and by virtue of that – where our challenges lie, and thereafter tackle the latter.
It’s often challenging to find inspiration יום כיפור. One may feel that they are simply going through the motions of all those seemingly endless hours in shul with a rumbling tummy. So what is יום כיפור really meant to be about? Are we really not going to repeat the sins we are asking for forgiveness for anyway as we commit to turning over a new leaf as it were?
I believe it’s about 3 main ideas:
Connection acceptance humility.
We come to יום כיפור to connect with Hashem. Through that we seek connection with the numerous people with whom we interact on a daily basis. Judaism is very much equally about the importance of both בין אדם למקום (our relationship with Hashem) and בין אדם לחברו (our relationships with people). I believe the reason המקום is used as the name of Hashem in this instance (and many times during the יום כיפור liturgy this choice of word is used also, i.e. at the beginning of כל נדרי with על דעת המקום) is perhaps because of that connection which we find so challenging on a day-to-day basis. Connecting to Hashem? But where/what is Hashem? המקום is literally translated as ‘the place,’ but when used as a name for Hashem it is referencing a metaphor since Hashem is not physical but we are and thus this is a way we can connect to Him as while not physical, He becomes physical as it were for our benefit. Ultimately Hashem doesn’t have a place per se; rather He is The Place, i.e. The Place of the Universe. So that’s the connection part.
Regarding acceptance I think we can look at the בין אדם לחברו. I don’t think anyone – even Hashem – expected us to be liked or even get along with every single person. I mean, He certainly didn’t imagine a snake would befriend an elephant or a mosquito would buddy up with a cat! Yet somehow, we all seem to think we have to be friends with everyone. I don’t believe we do. I believe we have to be respectful and civil but not be false in a friendship. Unfortunately however, the egos of people tell them that every single person in the world must think they are absolutely fabulous (think TikTok!) and go to great lengths to צמצוםthemselves (create a version of themselves that everyone will relate to) when really that is Hashem’s job toward us which He does (refer back to the מקום explanation) so we don’t need to worry about that. So that’s the acceptance part.
And finally the humility part of the day of יום כיפור. That’s – at least for me – aobut seeing yourselves as part of a כלל. You can have the nicest house on the block or drive the most impressive car but at the end of the day there you all are, in shul, no food or drink, no leather shoes, imploring your creator – the same One who created the guy next to you in shul – for help, sustenance, forgiveness, a good, healthy and happy life. And if that doesn’t cause one humility I don’t know what would.
"איכה ישבה בדד העיר רבתי עם היתה כאלמנה רבתי בגוים שרתי במדינות היתה למס.
“Alas – she sits in solitude! The city that was great with people has become like a widow. The greatest among nations, the princess among provinces, has become a tribultary.”
What is this whole תשעה ב'אב mourning thing about? Let’s start with some basics: who really knows what a בית המקדש even is? And there were two of them? Are we sure about that? Do we, can we, in any way, remember something that we never experienced or even saw? Judaism says yes, very much so.
Judaism isn’t much into remembering things in the traditional sense – rather we seek to reenact them. I’ve often wondered why. The lessons we’re taught as infants are probably ingrained best, partly because of the way they were put across. We didn’t sit and ‘remember’ 2 + 2 = 4; rather we were given an abacus with little coloured balls – so we actually ‘did’ the sum – we saw it, we experienced it, we lived it and we formed our favourite colours from it. Judaism’s הלכות have the same idea: we don’t ‘remember’ the Exodus – we ‘experience’ it through פסח, מצה ומרור – through refraining from unleaven bread and experiencing the יציאה as our forefathers did. Likewise with שבועות – to ensure we don’t miss מתן תורה we stay up all night (learning). And with סוכות living in the סוכה is a direct reliving of what the בני ישראל encountered on their journeys (in as much as our modern lives will allow).
On פורים it also seems strange. What’s תענית אסתר all about? It’s not (as is often mistakenly believed) a commemoration of whatאסתר did (that is commemorated another time), but rather it was the day they went to war and our fasting is meant to relive the trepidation and fear they felt. We know the outcome – we know they won – but this is supposed to be a reliving of the pre-war.
Halachically we are told that if we find out about the death of one of the seven קרובים more than 30 days later, we are not to sit shiva at that point. So if we’re not even supposed to mourn 30 days later, what on earth are we doing on תשעה ב'אב? Commemorating the destruction of the first בית מקדש 2,500 years ago and the second one 2,000 years ago, surely this has past its sell-by date for mourning?
This teaches us the difference between ‘remembering’ and ‘reliving.’ The shiva is meant as a memory of the dead, but History in Judaism has (as noted above) a different role – as a re-experience. Which is why we still do the whole תשעה ב'אב thing and the message for us today is ‘find a way to encounter it – meet it head on.[6]’
This was explained beautifully by Rabbi Haskel Lookstein who brought the words to a beautiful זמר. It says: הבן יקיר לי אפרים אם ילד שעשועים, כי מדי דברי בו זכר אזכרנו עוד – Is it because Ephraim is my beloved son, or that he is such a lovely child, that – whenever I mention him – I remember him more and more? He doesn’t remember him and then talk about him; he talks about him and then ‘relives’ him.
Remembering is for the dead – reliving keeps something alive. When we light a yarzheit candle it is not meant to be some pagan way of paying homage to the dead – the aim is to in a sense join G-d in an act of תחיית המתים – (as His full-fledged partner in נעשה אדם) let’s somehow bring the grandparents back in to the ‘living’ room and this will instill a joy in us, an urge in us to discuss their מדות and successfully pass on their lessons to our children. This is what יד ושם is all about too – not a ‘remembrance’ but a transformation of what Nazi Germany did to us – look we’re still here and very much alive – our stories and testaments will live forever – עם ישראל חי.
So what is איכה coming to teach us? Exactly that: How? The ‘dead’ on the other side are the ones who are really ‘living’ (even though we think it’s the other way round) as they have a full-stop after איכה – a famous quote I once heard: in this world there are no answers; in עולם הבא there are no questions.
We begin the מגילה with איכה ישבה בדד העיר רבתי עם היתה כאלמנה רבתי “How does she sit alone in the city full of people which was full of widows?” My perhaps somewhat inaccurate translation. But this is exactly my question – How? How is she alone, in a city full of people; how is it that the single mother, the widow, the orphan and indeed the single lady of 30 can sit alone in the city full of people? And I answer: bring back the ‘dead’ (people, structures and events) if only to let them imbue life into the living who have deciding ‘remembering’ is a waste of time and thus negated their responsibility to ‘relive.’
“Alas – she sits in solitude! The city that was great with people has become like a widow. The greatest among nations, the princess among provinces, has become a tribultary.”
What is this whole תשעה ב'אב mourning thing about? Let’s start with some basics: who really knows what a בית המקדש even is? And there were two of them? Are we sure about that? Do we, can we, in any way, remember something that we never experienced or even saw? Judaism says yes, very much so.
Judaism isn’t much into remembering things in the traditional sense – rather we seek to reenact them. I’ve often wondered why. The lessons we’re taught as infants are probably ingrained best, partly because of the way they were put across. We didn’t sit and ‘remember’ 2 + 2 = 4; rather we were given an abacus with little coloured balls – so we actually ‘did’ the sum – we saw it, we experienced it, we lived it and we formed our favourite colours from it. Judaism’s הלכות have the same idea: we don’t ‘remember’ the Exodus – we ‘experience’ it through פסח, מצה ומרור – through refraining from unleaven bread and experiencing the יציאה as our forefathers did. Likewise with שבועות – to ensure we don’t miss מתן תורה we stay up all night (learning). And with סוכות living in the סוכה is a direct reliving of what the בני ישראל encountered on their journeys (in as much as our modern lives will allow).
On פורים it also seems strange. What’s תענית אסתר all about? It’s not (as is often mistakenly believed) a commemoration of whatאסתר did (that is commemorated another time), but rather it was the day they went to war and our fasting is meant to relive the trepidation and fear they felt. We know the outcome – we know they won – but this is supposed to be a reliving of the pre-war.
Halachically we are told that if we find out about the death of one of the seven קרובים more than 30 days later, we are not to sit shiva at that point. So if we’re not even supposed to mourn 30 days later, what on earth are we doing on תשעה ב'אב? Commemorating the destruction of the first בית מקדש 2,500 years ago and the second one 2,000 years ago, surely this has past its sell-by date for mourning?
This teaches us the difference between ‘remembering’ and ‘reliving.’ The shiva is meant as a memory of the dead, but History in Judaism has (as noted above) a different role – as a re-experience. Which is why we still do the whole תשעה ב'אב thing and the message for us today is ‘find a way to encounter it – meet it head on.[6]’
This was explained beautifully by Rabbi Haskel Lookstein who brought the words to a beautiful זמר. It says: הבן יקיר לי אפרים אם ילד שעשועים, כי מדי דברי בו זכר אזכרנו עוד – Is it because Ephraim is my beloved son, or that he is such a lovely child, that – whenever I mention him – I remember him more and more? He doesn’t remember him and then talk about him; he talks about him and then ‘relives’ him.
Remembering is for the dead – reliving keeps something alive. When we light a yarzheit candle it is not meant to be some pagan way of paying homage to the dead – the aim is to in a sense join G-d in an act of תחיית המתים – (as His full-fledged partner in נעשה אדם) let’s somehow bring the grandparents back in to the ‘living’ room and this will instill a joy in us, an urge in us to discuss their מדות and successfully pass on their lessons to our children. This is what יד ושם is all about too – not a ‘remembrance’ but a transformation of what Nazi Germany did to us – look we’re still here and very much alive – our stories and testaments will live forever – עם ישראל חי.
So what is איכה coming to teach us? Exactly that: How? The ‘dead’ on the other side are the ones who are really ‘living’ (even though we think it’s the other way round) as they have a full-stop after איכה – a famous quote I once heard: in this world there are no answers; in עולם הבא there are no questions.
We begin the מגילה with איכה ישבה בדד העיר רבתי עם היתה כאלמנה רבתי “How does she sit alone in the city full of people which was full of widows?” My perhaps somewhat inaccurate translation. But this is exactly my question – How? How is she alone, in a city full of people; how is it that the single mother, the widow, the orphan and indeed the single lady of 30 can sit alone in the city full of people? And I answer: bring back the ‘dead’ (people, structures and events) if only to let them imbue life into the living who have deciding ‘remembering’ is a waste of time and thus negated their responsibility to ‘relive.’
What is the 9th of Av and the three weeks preceding it, beginning with the fast of Tammuz on 17th, all about? What are the laws connected to these two days and why is it called the "three weeks"?
Well, first up the name the Gemara gives the time from the 17th Tammuz to 9th Av is בין המצרים – which means between the straits. It is a period of between the bad times and during these three weeks bad things happened to the Jewish people. So during these 3 weeks we are told to be very careful, because there is a sense of a bad omen around. The other law we are given however, is to reduce happiness. משנכנס אב ממעטין בשמחה – When one enters Av, it should be done with reduced joy.[1] So the question becomes, what is the reasoning the law behind the law? Are we not supposed to: go to the pool, make a party, go the movies, listen to music etc. because of a bad omen or because we must reduce joy? Both reasons. During the 3 weeks there is a bad omen so we should stay clear from danger, but when the nine days start, from Rosh Hodesh Ellul, we should reduce joy.
What has happened to us though? We read in איכה that Yehuda was exiled because of affliction…she dwells among the nations yet finds no rest…"[2] first we were exiled from affliction and now that we have been exiled we choose to dwell among the nations… we will never find a resting place. What does this mean? We are always looking for escapes and to join other nations and not be ourselves. We do not have the strength of our convictions to remain true to our G-d and Torah. We are constantly trying to follow other nations but this just weakens our conviction and in turn, us.
Rav Kook says this can be for potential good as From between the straits the people are redeemed by teachers armed with spiritual strength who do not need a hitting rod.[3] What is exactly does that mean? During the three weeks, since there is a bad omen around (and one is cautioned to try to avoid potentially dangerous situations), as a teacher one should be especially careful about hitting his students. Why? One reason is because during that time his/her control over him/herself can be reduced due to the bad omen. But more than that, if one has to use a hitting rod to put across one's point, the point is no longer valid. In any argument one's mouth should be enough – and one should believe in one's point enough – for no physical strength to be necessary.
There are certain things that can be done though even during the 9 days. For example, if a couple wishes to get engaged, they may do so (without the celebratory party) because if not, they may miss the time that was allotted to them. One should however, refrain from saying the Shehechiyanu blessing as we do not wish to thank G-d for having bought us to this time – this time is a difficult, bad omen, potentially dangerous time that we are not necessarily grateful to having been bought to.
So then the question is asked, okay, if it is only the 9 days that you should reduce joy, why can't you get married in the 2 weeks preceding that, during bein hametzarim? Because you wouldn’t want to get married with a bad omen and the heading in the chapter in Shulhan Aruch of these laws is "Laws of Bein Hametzarim" although it does just say טוב לזהר which means it is good to be careful rather than אסור.
We can now look at what the big problem of the spies who reported badly on the land of Israel was. It was their interpretation. They could have come back and said "hey, the land looks great, it's going to be easy, people are living without barriers; no problem." And then they would have been zocheh to enter the land on this auspicious day of Tisha B'Av. Instead, they took the good and reinterpreted it for bad and this is why we fast and have bad omens.
Back to the hitting: likewise, if your message was so clear and you were so confident, you would not have to hit ever. But the argument fails the moment you hit or raise your voice. Because you are saying, I didn’t really believe in what I was saying so I have to 'reinforce' it by hitting. Ultimately, we thus learn that the redemption will come about from not forcing our strength and hence we read: "הרימי אל תיראי אמרי לעדי יהודה הנה אלקיכם." "Lift up your voice with strength say the cities of Yehuda, here is your G-d.[4]" The verb לאמר is used which is a soft, gentle, subtle word (to say) rather than לדבר which is much harsher (more to state).
Today we need teachers more than ever who are convinced of their message, have a strong sense of conviction and spirituality and do not need to raise their voices. And iy"H "Our people will be redeemed from between the straits through teachers armed with this spirit that they do not need the hitting rod.[5]"
[1] Ta'anit 4:5
[2] Eicha 1:3
[3] Rav Kook, Meged Yerachim
[4] Yeshayahu 40:9
[5] Rav Kook's poem (see footnote 3).
Well, first up the name the Gemara gives the time from the 17th Tammuz to 9th Av is בין המצרים – which means between the straits. It is a period of between the bad times and during these three weeks bad things happened to the Jewish people. So during these 3 weeks we are told to be very careful, because there is a sense of a bad omen around. The other law we are given however, is to reduce happiness. משנכנס אב ממעטין בשמחה – When one enters Av, it should be done with reduced joy.[1] So the question becomes, what is the reasoning the law behind the law? Are we not supposed to: go to the pool, make a party, go the movies, listen to music etc. because of a bad omen or because we must reduce joy? Both reasons. During the 3 weeks there is a bad omen so we should stay clear from danger, but when the nine days start, from Rosh Hodesh Ellul, we should reduce joy.
What has happened to us though? We read in איכה that Yehuda was exiled because of affliction…she dwells among the nations yet finds no rest…"[2] first we were exiled from affliction and now that we have been exiled we choose to dwell among the nations… we will never find a resting place. What does this mean? We are always looking for escapes and to join other nations and not be ourselves. We do not have the strength of our convictions to remain true to our G-d and Torah. We are constantly trying to follow other nations but this just weakens our conviction and in turn, us.
Rav Kook says this can be for potential good as From between the straits the people are redeemed by teachers armed with spiritual strength who do not need a hitting rod.[3] What is exactly does that mean? During the three weeks, since there is a bad omen around (and one is cautioned to try to avoid potentially dangerous situations), as a teacher one should be especially careful about hitting his students. Why? One reason is because during that time his/her control over him/herself can be reduced due to the bad omen. But more than that, if one has to use a hitting rod to put across one's point, the point is no longer valid. In any argument one's mouth should be enough – and one should believe in one's point enough – for no physical strength to be necessary.
There are certain things that can be done though even during the 9 days. For example, if a couple wishes to get engaged, they may do so (without the celebratory party) because if not, they may miss the time that was allotted to them. One should however, refrain from saying the Shehechiyanu blessing as we do not wish to thank G-d for having bought us to this time – this time is a difficult, bad omen, potentially dangerous time that we are not necessarily grateful to having been bought to.
So then the question is asked, okay, if it is only the 9 days that you should reduce joy, why can't you get married in the 2 weeks preceding that, during bein hametzarim? Because you wouldn’t want to get married with a bad omen and the heading in the chapter in Shulhan Aruch of these laws is "Laws of Bein Hametzarim" although it does just say טוב לזהר which means it is good to be careful rather than אסור.
We can now look at what the big problem of the spies who reported badly on the land of Israel was. It was their interpretation. They could have come back and said "hey, the land looks great, it's going to be easy, people are living without barriers; no problem." And then they would have been zocheh to enter the land on this auspicious day of Tisha B'Av. Instead, they took the good and reinterpreted it for bad and this is why we fast and have bad omens.
Back to the hitting: likewise, if your message was so clear and you were so confident, you would not have to hit ever. But the argument fails the moment you hit or raise your voice. Because you are saying, I didn’t really believe in what I was saying so I have to 'reinforce' it by hitting. Ultimately, we thus learn that the redemption will come about from not forcing our strength and hence we read: "הרימי אל תיראי אמרי לעדי יהודה הנה אלקיכם." "Lift up your voice with strength say the cities of Yehuda, here is your G-d.[4]" The verb לאמר is used which is a soft, gentle, subtle word (to say) rather than לדבר which is much harsher (more to state).
Today we need teachers more than ever who are convinced of their message, have a strong sense of conviction and spirituality and do not need to raise their voices. And iy"H "Our people will be redeemed from between the straits through teachers armed with this spirit that they do not need the hitting rod.[5]"
[1] Ta'anit 4:5
[2] Eicha 1:3
[3] Rav Kook, Meged Yerachim
[4] Yeshayahu 40:9
[5] Rav Kook's poem (see footnote 3).