Every year we read the haftara for Parshat Devarim on the final Shabbat before Tisha B’av, called Shabbat Chazon. This haftarah is read from the first chapter of Isaiah, but there are varying traditions concerning exactly which verses to read. The prevalent custom is to start from the first verse through verse 27, the opening of the prophecy. The Yemenites, however, only begin from verse 21: “How [eikha] like a prostitute is she now, the faithful metropolis.”
The word eikha rings in our ears. It echoes not only the first word of the Megillat Eikha, the Book of Lamentations, which we read on Tisha B’av, but also, serendipitously, is a word found in the parsha itself. In chapter 1, verse 12 of Deuteronomy, Moshe despairs of being able to manage the quarrels and complaints of the Israelites by himself: “How [eikha] can I bear alone all your problems, your burdens, your disputes?”
The way we hear Eicha in the haftarah, parsha and the approaching reading of Lamentations conveys a sense of despair, helplessness and overwhelm. It is something that Am Israel has felt at many points throughout its history including during its difficult journey to the Promised Land, after the destruction of the Temples as well as persecutions, expulsions, crusades, and blatant acts of antisemitism in the halls of academia. It is what we are feeling today amid the ongoing war and other challenges both in Israel and the Diaspora. It is natural to feel overwhelmed, that we cannot bear this any longer, and to feel helpless.
Often asking this question “eicha,” How can this have happened – is the first step to finding the answers we need—-we express our emotional exhaustion and recognize that we are in a challenging place, hopefully as the first step to growth and finding a solution, or finding the strength to accept the present reality. In fact, this word, when examined more carefully, can help guide us on this journey from despair, fear and questioning to a place of more productive thinking and deeper faith.
Rabbi Soloveitchik taught us that when we wish to truly understand any word in the Torah, we should begin by noting the first form that word takes. When we search for the word איכה, we find, to our surprise, that in its first appearance in the Torah, in Genesis 3:9, the word is vocalized differently altogether – ayekka – and it carries a different meaning: “Where are you?” This was the gentle question God asked of the ashamed Adam and Eve after they ate the fruit from the forbidden tree and tried to hide. This alternative vocalization of the same Hebrew letters can also teach us a new way of looking at the eikha – “how can this have happened?” – that we repeat throughout the liturgy surrounding Tisha B’av.
When confronted with tragedy, after expressing eikha, “How could we have gotten here?”it is important that we also then face the calamity and ask ayekka – “Where are we?” This will help us move from being immersed in the sadness of the moment, in misery and find the courage to be part of the process of picking ourselves back up and transforming the current reality in our personal, communal or national life.
In every generation, in every life, individual and collective tragedies occur. It is our opportunity to prevent ourselves and each other from being sucked into the whirlpool of despair, and instead to ask ourselves ayekka: What can we do to make a difference? What role will we play in the great drama taking place in us and around us, to help transform Tisha B’av from a day of sadness to a day of joy and redemption, as expressed in the words of the prophet Zecharia (8:19): “The fast of the fifth month…will be for the House of Yehuda joy and happiness, and a time set aside for good. Therefore, love truth and peace!”