Rabbi Rael Blumenthal

This Shabbos is one of comfort – Shabbos Nachamu, so named for the opening words of the Haftarah: נַחֲמוּ נַחֲמוּ עַמִּי – The Navi is instructing us to be comforted in the wake of the devastation of Tisha B’av. But what is this comfort? What are we supposed to feel?

“Making someone comfortable” means something very different when you hear it in a nursing home. There, the sadness of comfort becomes very real. I can still vividly recall the first time I asked what what “making him comfortable” meant, and since that day, I can no longer feel comfortable with being comfortable.

Comfort, as we know it, is a fairly recent consideration of humanity. For most of our history, life was decidedly uncomfortable. Heat and cold were aspect of nature to contend with, to mitigate if possible. Sickness, ailments, pain and aging, were parts of life.

But in the past century, we have moved beyond mitigating these discomforts. Indeed, with the wonders of modern science and technology, we have all but eradicated the major discomforts of our ancestors. And now comfort reigns supreme. Comfortable beds, shoes, clothes, seats, cars, shuls, schools and couches.

This is a good thing. Without the constant barrage of daily frustration, we now have the time, headspace, and wherewithal to devote ourselves to loftier pursuits on both personal and national levels. Right?

Right?

But if we’re honest, we know know that’s not true.

A number of years ago, a close friend of mine told me the story of his grandmother, a Holocaust survivor who made her way to the United States. With the characteristic perseverance of a woman who would not allow Hitler to win, and despite her poverty, she raised her children with to value life, learning, Torah and the Jewish people.

At some point in the mid sixties, after a number of a years, saving penny by penny, she had finally saved up enough to buy an electric washing machine. On that day, she called her children together and told them, “Now that I no longer need to spend all day at home – we’re going to the library. If we have free time, it’s to be used for learning.”

I dare say that we don’t live that way. I’ve often joked to my Talmidim that if aliens from outer-space would land on earth, they’d see us carrying these glass/plastic rectangular slabs in our pockets. They’ll ask us “what are those?” And we’ll respond “These are smart phones. (Oooooh!) They give us the ability to connect to our friends, and families, and almost anyone on the planet. With these marvelous devices we can access all of human knowledge. We can use them to learn skills, languages, and art.” “Amazing,” they will say. “And what do you all use them for?” “Netflix, Lashon Hara and memes...”

It's a frustrating truth to admit, but we should be asking ourselves: Why do we live our lives with such cavalier disregard for our own values?

We could explain it by a simple lack of commitment, but I think there is more going on here. The constant barrage of influences, celebrities and edutainers have convinced us that the greatest values of our generation is the all impossible goal of achieving a successful and comfortable life. We chase after independence, freedom and the absence of pain as an inherent value.

Aside from the harsh truth that these dreams are often a facade, we know that even if we do manage to emulate these lifestyles, there is still no guarantee that our lives will be pain-free. Regardless, such aspirations are not the meaning of comfort in the Torah.

Rashi (בראשית ו:ו) tells us the meaning of the word נחמה does not mean the removal of pain. Instead, he writes:

נהפכה מחשבתו ... וכן כל לשון ניחום שבמקרא לשון נמלך מה לעשות

A change of mind and perspective... Every נחמה mentioned in the Torah means a reevaluation of what to do now.

Nechama is an invitation to look at ourselves, the world and our circumstances with a fresh perspective. Rather than becoming stuck in our pain, or seeking to avoid it, Nechama grants the possibility of transcending it.

This is true on a national level as well as on a personal level.

Moshe Rabbeinu tells each of us this Shabbos: וְאַתֶּם הַדְּבֵקִים בַּה׳ אֱלֹקיכֶם, You, who stick to Hashem your God, חַיִּים כֻּלְּכֶם הַיּוֹם, are all alive today.

Rabbi Moshe Yechiel Epstein, the Ozharover Rebbe explains this strange phrase (באר משה – דברים עמ׳ נג):

The Yetzer Hara tries to persuade us that there is no way for us, regular people, to achieve closeness to Hashem in this world. After all, we are bound by the needs and pressures of the body. Any attempt is ultimately futile and predestined to fail. Perhaps there are great tzadikim who can overcome their desires and natural inclinations – but that's certainly not me.

“Not so”, says Moshe Rabbeinu. “You – everyone – can, and must, connect to Hashem. This is the meaning of your life today, here, now, in this world, in this moment.”

In the deepest sense, Moshe Rabbeinu is talking is us when we are feeling most stuck. He tells us that life itself is earned, discovered and enjoyed in the pursuit of growth and Godliness. It is achieved when we are brave enough to face discomfort head on and push ourselves to become better today.

Our desire for comfort does bring us a mixture of resilience and acceptance. But at it’s core, this kind of comfort is about resignation and a loss of sensitivity. We paper over our pain by saying “it doesn't matter anyway.”

Nechama, on the other hand profoundly and boldly demands responsiveness and responsibility. Nechama asks us to live with the tension of navigating a broken world, while never capitulating to a broken reality. Or in the words of Dylan Thomas, Nechama asks us to “Rage against the dying of the light.”

In Oros HaTechiyah (פרק ה׳) Rav Kook explains that there really is no other way. Our basic nature, as Jews, demands that we live up to our potential:

גדולים אנחנו וגדולות הנה משוגותינו ובשביל כך גדולות הן צרותינו, וגדולים גם תנחומותינו

We are so great and therefore our meshugasim (our insanities) are great as well. And because of this, our pain is great. Just imagine how great will be our eventual Nechama...

Hashem has given our generation a level of material comfort that humanity has never seen before, and we dare not waste it on “making ourselves comfortable.” Tisha B’av should leave us with deep discomfort, but not despair. Hashem should help us to begin changing our reality. This the true meaning of Shabbos Nachamu: Be comforted with the knowledge that you can fix this. But please, don't get comfortable.