Rabbi Ilai Grunwald is Torah Mitzion Rosh Kollel in Memphis, For comments: ilaigr@gmail.com
This Shabbat, we begin reading the seven Haftarot of consolation, with the first Haftarah from Ishaiah chapter 40, which opens with the words "Comfort, comfort My people." As a result, this Shabbat is called "Shabbat Nachamu." We read this Haftarah after Tisha B'Av, following three Haftarot of rebuke. Thus, the prophet comforts the people of Israel, even though the Temple is still in ruins and the people are in exile.
This year, it is so difficult to speak of comfort when the wound is still fresh and painful, when the captives and the missing have not yet returned. We ask Hashem to show us open miracles soon.
"Comfort, comfort My people, says your God" (Ishaiah 40:1).
In these processes, our Sages taught us that after mourning over tragedy, there comes a stage where one must speak of comfort. Each person, according to their situation, must seek out a perspective of comfort. The Pasuk opens with a double call for comfort: "Comfort, comfort My people, says your God." This raises several questions: What is the meaning of the repeated phrase "Comfort, comfort"? Who is the comforter? Is the comfort meant for the future, or is it also for the present?
What is comfort? What can bring us comfort? Comfort can come after a process of mourning that includes accepting what has happened and integrating it into a new narrative.
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, a researcher of grief and loss, presented a theory of five stages of dealing with grief:
1. Denial – a stage where the pain and what happened are not accepted.
2. Anger – a stage of disagreement and lack of acceptance, leading to anger, jealousy, and hatred of the evil that occurred.
3. Bargaining – an attempt to diminish the importance of the event or change the attitude towards it.
4. Depression – a stage of feeling purposeless and unable to act.
5. Acceptance – after going through the previous stages, a person can express various emotions, integrate the process, and move forward towards a new reality. The person is able to let go of what was lost and create a new story for themselves.
There have been critiques of this theory, with some proposing a dual-track model where, on one hand, there is development and progress, while on the other, there is an ongoing dialogue with what was lost.
How can we advance the process towards acceptance and comfort?
The second verse speaks of the way: "Speak to the heart of Jerusalem." The way to bring comfort is through speech—"Speak to the heart of Jerusalem." When the mourner speaks, it allows them to reframe their own story. They can discover new strengths within themselves, view the past with a new perspective, and create a new story for their life, using their past while also creating a new future. Often, the mourner needs someone to listen and accompany them. Comfort is the ability to see goodness in the present and future, connecting the past to the journey. It is so important to speak with someone about what happened and to have someone to comfort and listen.
Rabbi Nachman in Likutei Moharan, Torah 21, 11, explains the pasuk "Comfort, comfort My people" by saying that comfort depends on knowledge—the understanding that Hashem runs the world completely, and that everything comes from Him and is ultimately for the good. When a person fully believes in Hashem, their life is joyful, even when they face great sorrow. This awareness is not always strong enough and can be shaken by events that seem to contradict our previous beliefs. Suffering breaks these beliefs and forces us to accept a different understanding that we previously refused to acknowledge, realizing that this is how Hashem runs the world for us.
Rabbi Nachman explains that to attain complete faith, one must go through the process and encounter evil through two forms of comfort. One comfort comes through crying out and weeping—through connecting to the pain, a request for a different, better reality arises. This part includes the pain over what happened, and from this, new life is born in a person's life. Through this longing, a new depth in life is opened, with greater appreciation for what exists, like the cries of a woman in labor. The second part of the comfort is connected to the rebuilding of the future, from the new story that is created in a person’s world. We must dedicate ourselves to values more deeply and with greater commitment. Faith through the pain obliges one to bring goodness into the world and to be active partners in the world's rectification; this is what Rabbi Nachman calls sanctifying the seven candles.
Chassidut also interprets "Comfort, comfort My people" to mean that what comforts us is that Hashem has not abandoned us, and we are still called "My people," the people of Hashem. We are called Hashem’s people both in good times and in bad, forever.
We hope and pray that from within the pain, mourning, and loss—and with the hope that there will be no more—we will learn, grow, and merit to see the goodness. We will find comfort, just as Rabbi Akiva cried and laughed when he saw a fox walking in the Holy of Holies and said that just as the prophecy of destruction was fulfilled, he believes that the prophecy of redemption will also be fulfilled (Makkot 24b).
How much more so in our generation, where we have been privileged to witness the beginning of our redemption with the return to Zion and the rebuilding of the land, as the prophets foretold ("Old men and women will once again sit in the streets of Jerusalem" Zecharia 8,4). So too, with Hashem’s help, we will soon merit to see the revival of holiness, with faith in the great future of the people of Israel, and with Hashem’s help, we will soon witness the rebuilding of Jerusalem and the Temple, the coming of the righteous Mashiach, and complete redemption.