August 15, 2022|י"ח אב ה' אלפים תשפ"ב Transitioning from Healthy Pessimism to Healthy Optimism By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

Imagine if we all knew how to transition from healthy pessimism to healthy optimism. I find it fascinating how our Jewish tradition mandates that we manufacture emotion. Now I want you to be happy. Now I want you to be sad. Now I want you to be scared. Mind you, I always want you to eat. Jewish tradition always wants us to eat, except for a few days when it wants us to starve ourselves, but we are constantly being told how to feel. Last week we were told to feel sad and mourn about our tragic national predicament, but this week we are told to be happy. The Mishnah in Masechet Taanit (4:8) tells us that Tu B’Av and Yom Kippur are the happiest days of the year. So yesterday, which was Tu B’Av, we were told to flip the switch and be happy and today we are told to be comforted because today is Shabbat Nachamu. It’s very hard to manufacture emotions, which is what we’ve been doing this past week, and it’s especially hard to flip the switch emotionally, from feeling sad last Sunday to feel comforted today. It almost seems like a game, but I think it’s much more than a game. I think that Chazal are teaching us about life and about how to handle our emotions in different situations.

Chazal do not believe in toxic positivity, of always staying positive in the middle of a crisis and refusing to look at life’s darkness. We believe in recognizing the evil in our personal life and in our national life and we don’t sugarcoat it, but it doesn’t dominate our entire existence. We dedicate one day every year to focus on the negativity in our national life, and then we transition to a day of happiness and a day of comfort. In doing so, Chazal teach us how we can transition out of the dark moments in our lives. Chazal understand that at times we have every right to be angry and upset and sad and anxious, and they provide the tools to help us emerge from the negativity to happiness and optimism. And maybe this week’s parsha can provide some assistance as well in this important task to transition from healthy pessimism to healthy optimism.

Moshe tells Bnei Yisrael the tragic story of when he cried out to God, pleading that God allow him to enter Eretz Yisrael and God says no. I wonder why Moshe tells Bnei Yisrael this story. Every week we hear another miracle story when someone prayed to God and someone recovered from an illness or found a shidduch or got a job or some miracle happened to him or her and we are inspired by these tefilla stories. And here comes Moshe and tells them, “You know, I am the Gadol HaDor. I prayed to God. I didn’t just pray. I begged God! And He said no.” I don’t know about you, but if I would hear that, I would say, “What chance do I have at getting my prayers answered?” This is like the anti-tefilla miracle story. Why, then, does Moshe tell Bnei Yisrael this story? Why remind them that sometimes tefilla doesn’t work even for the Gadol Ha’Dor? Maybe he tells them the story because of what he says immediately after telling them that God said no. Moshe says one sentence, “va’neishev ba’Gai mul Beit P’or” - “we stayed on in the valley near Bet P’or.” And then Moshe switches topics. Why does Moshe include this last sentence at this point in the story? The Or HaChayim explains that when Moshe says “va’neishev” – and we stayed, “ein yeshiva ella ikvah ad olam,” he tells them that this is his final resting place. Why is this Moshe’s final resting place? Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer states that Moshe is buried there “kdei she’yihyeh mul avon P’or l’val yarim rosh l’katreg al Yisrael,” so that Moshe’s burial plot will be opposite P’or so that Satan won’t prosecute against Yisrael.

Imagine what would have happened had Moshe entered Eretz Yisrael and was buried there. When this generation and subsequent generations would visit P’Or, all they would think about was how even the new generation sinned against God and is not worthy. Now that Moshe is buried opposite the place where they sinned, this sends an encouraging message. Even though they committed a horrific sin, Moshe was still with them, praying for them, as it were, and protecting them.

Here was Moshe devastated that he could not enter Eretz Yisrael, but he looks for the good, finds the good and highlights the good. His burial, even outside the boundaries of Eretz Yisrael, will serve as a protection for Bnei Yisrael. And that is how we transition from tragedy to optimism by searching for the good and when we find the good, celebrate the good, even if it’s not what we hoped for. Isn’t that what Tu B’Av is all about? In Masechet Taanit (31a), Rav Matna states that the Rabbis established the holiday of Tu B’Av on the day when we were given the opportunity to bury our dead seven years after the failed Bar Kocbha revolt was crushed in 135 CE. Betar was decimated, Jewish life was in shambles, but the rabbis saw a glimmer of the presence of God when they were allowed to bury the dead seven years after they were killed and miraculously their bodies did not decompose. The first key to getting out of depression and getting out of a rut is to search for the good, find the good, and celebrate the good. Moshe understood that and the rabbis after the fall of Betar understood that.

Not only does Tu B’Av follow Tisha B’Av, but Shabbat Nachamu follows Tisha B’Av, as well. Shabbat Nachamu also guides us how to emerge from the bitterness of Tisha B’Av, and that’s through tragic optimism. Tragic optimism is a phrase coined by psychologist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl and it involves the search for meaning amid the tragedies of human existence. Post traumatic growth does not depend on the nature of the trauma but how the event is processed, and that is what Shabbat Nachamu is all about. Even though Shabbat Nachamu is typically translated as the “Shabbat of comfort,” Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch explains that the word “nechama” actually means “reconsider.” For example, at the end of Parshat Breishit, the Torah tells us how “vayinachem Hashem,” how God reconsidered having created mankind and He decided to destroy the world. In Parshat Vayechi, the Torah tells us with regard to Yosef “vayenachem otam,” that Yosef reassured his brothers after Yaakov died that he harbored no feelings of resentment. “Vayenachem” in this context means that Yosef caused them to reconsider and change their perspective that they felt about him up to that point. They thought Yosef was going to harm them after Yaakov died, but no - “vayenachem otam” – he caused them to reconsider. In Parshat B’shalach, the Torah tells us that God led the Bnei Yisrael in a circuitous route from Egypt. Why? “Pen yinachem ha’am birotam milchamah v’shavu Mitzrayma” – lest the people reconsider and decide to return to Egypt. Shabbat Nachamu, a Shabbat of nechama, then, is more than simply a Shabbat when we ask God to console and comfort us by bringing about the redemption. Shabbat Nachamu provides us the opportunity to process the trauma by changing perspective of what we previously thought. In the case of Tisha B’Av, this means that we thought that God hated us or abandoned us after the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash, but maybe that’s not the case. Maybe we need to change our perspective and realize that God punished us for our sins and we just need to behave better to bring God back into our lives.

But how do we go about processing trauma in a constructive manner? Again, we can look to Moshe for guidance. Moshe pleads with God to let him enter Eretz Yisrael, so God tells him, “rav lach” – Enough! “Al tosef daber eilai od badavar hazeh” – “stop speaking about this anymore.” One of Rashi’s explanations for “rav lach” is “harbeh” – a lot. God tells Moshe, “rav lach” – Moshe, you have a lot. “Harbeh shamur lach rav tuva tzafun lach” – "there’s a lot of good in store for you.” God is telling Moshe that he has a lot of blessings, so he needs to stop.

Notwithstanding Rashi’s commentary, we can’t help but realize that “rav lach” must also be sending us another message because we’ve seen this language before. When? In Parshat Korach, when Korach desired the leadership, Moshe told him “rav lach” – you have so much, why do you want more? In Masechet Sota (13b), Rav Levi states “b’rav biser u’v’rav bisruhu” – Moshe turned to the rebels and said “rav lachem” – you have so much. Moshe was curt and insensitive. He shut Korach down. He wasn’t sensitive to the 250 men to hear their concerns, and because he shut them down, God shut Moshe down with similar language. Even though Korach was wrong and even though the 250 men who attacked Moshe were wrong, still Moshe should have been more sensitive and God is reminding Moshe of this.

Maybe God is telling us more than that. Maybe God is telling us that sometimes the way that we deal with our difficulties and challenges is to look around and ask ourselves whether there are others who are similarly struggling or perhaps struggling even more and maybe we can try to focus some of our attention on them. This change of perspective, this tragic optimism as Viktor Frankl explained, may be a critical tool that can actually raise us from our doldrums.

During a lecture he delivered on Tisha B’av afternoon a number of years ago, Rabbi Fischel Schachter, maggid shiur at Mesivta Torah Vodaas, related a personal story that a woman had related to him:

“A number of years ago one of my children died and I was devastated. I became so depressed that I refused to leave my house. I was sure that I would never get over it and would never be able to get on with my life. Two months went by and things did not improve at all; in fact, my misery and self-pity only deepened. I was invited to a wedding but I told my husband that I wasn’t going. I simply couldn’t. My husband knew how badly I needed to get out and, when he saw that he could not reason with me, he literally pushed me out of the house and locked the door. I banged on the door but my husband would not allow me back in. He called out that my dress and makeup were at a neighbor’s house and that I had to go to the wedding. Seeing that I had no choice, I begrudgingly got dressed and went to the wedding. When I saw everyone dancing happily, I became very upset. I felt that they had no right to be so happy. With a complete feeling of dejection, I walked over to a phone booth and picked up the phone. Tears streaming down my face, I said, “God, I don’t want to be here. Please get me out of here!” While I was standing there crying, one of the elderly women who was sitting at the door of the hall collecting charity noticed me and walked over to me. She placed her arms on my shoulder and gently asked me, “Mein kint, vos vaynst du- My child why are you crying?” I shot back at her, “You never lost a child!” She gently replied, “Really? I lost ten children during the war! Why are you crying?” I looked at her in astonishment, “And you never cried?” “Oh, I cried! But I learned that there is no point of crying over the past. I learned to take advantage of my tears and to use them to cry for others. Whenever I cry, I think about those who need salvation and I pray for them with my tears.” Then she put her arms around me and said, “No one should tell you to stop crying. But use your tears and learn how to cry! Use your tears to pray for everyone you know who is suffering.” Then she walked away. For a few moments I just stood there lost in thought. Then I picked up the phone again and began to cry profusely. I thought about everyone I know who is going through a hard time and I cried for them. I thought about those who were in the hospital when I was there with my child and I cried for them. I cried for Klal Yisroel and I prayed for the future and for salvation and redemption. When I finished crying, I never felt so happy in my life. I stepped into the center of the circle and I danced like I never danced in my life!”

We need a Tisha B’Av in our Jewish calendar not just to mourn our historical tragedies, but to guide us how to mourn and reflect upon our personal tragedies. Perhaps more importantly, we need a Tisha B’Av followed by a Tu B’Av and a Shabbat Nachamu to guide us how to rise from those tragedies. Imagine if we all knew how to transition from healthy pessimism to healthy optimism. We all go through bumps along the road of life, some more serious than others, and sometimes we find ourselves stuck in a bad place, feeling bad about ourselves, our situation and our lot in life. Perhaps the Torah provides a path as we navigate these situations. We navigate these situations not through positive toxicity, but we navigate these situations through searching for the good, finding the good and celebrating the good, and through tragic optimism, through reconsidering, changing our perspective, hopefully through looking for others who may similarly be struggling and channeling our pain to help them. That is what Moshe was told to do, that is what Chazal did and hopefully God will give us the strength to do this, as well, as we go through life.