The Rebbe changed the way we mourn—and maybe the way we wait for Moshiach too.
Rabbi AI
What would you rather hear about today— the past or the future?
That’s the question I asked AI this week. Everyone’s using AI these days, so I figured I’d better upgrade myself and learn how it works; otherwise, people might think I’m still stuck in the Stone Age.
AI told me that, on average, people feel happier when thinking about the future than when thinking about the past. Why? Because the future lets us imagine good things—success, love, and happiness. In fact, according to research, looking forward to a positive event—like an upcoming trip—can actually be more exciting than the experience itself. Thinking about the future also gives us a sense of meaning and purpose; it feels like we’re “moving toward” something. Our thoughts about the future tend to be more positive than our thoughts about the past.
In short, “Rabbi AI” says that optimistic people enjoy thinking about the future because they picture good things coming their way. However, nostalgic people prefer to look back and relive the best moments of the past.
Flipping the Script
Right now, we are in the period of the Three Weeks, when the Jewish people mourn the destruction of the Temple. It began on the 17th of Tammuz: the walls of Jerusalem were breached, and the enemy flooded the city and waged a bloody war street by street. Three weeks later, on the 9th of Av, the Temple was set on fire.
Today is Rosh Chodesh Av, which marks the beginning of the “Nine Days.”
During the final nine days of the Three Weeks, the customs of mourning are intensified. Until now, we’ve refrained from things like haircuts, listening to music, and holding weddings. Starting today, we also avoid eating meat and drinking wine—except on Shabbat, when outward mourning is not permitted.
During the three-week periodת ןt’s customary among Jews to study the stories surrounding the destruction. Many of these stories focus on one core idea: baseless hatred among Jews. That is what caused the Temple to be destroyed.
Baseless hatred is a very vague term, but if you read other historical accounts, like those of Josephus and others, you see that it wasn’t just hatred—it was full-blown civil war. During the Roman siege, three different Jewish factions were fighting one another within Jerusalem. Instead of uniting against the enemy, they weakened each other, which ultimately allowed the Romans to destroy the city and the Temple.
Reading about the destruction doesn’t exactly lift your spirits. On the contrary—it can feel pretty disheartening, especially when you realize how relevant those old stories still feel today.
But in the summer of 1976, during the very same Three Weeks, the Rebbe introduced something new.
The Rebbe called for a shift in focus: Instead of only mourning the destruction, he encouraged people to study the rebuilding of the Temple. After all, we’re not just grieving—we’re praying and hoping for the Temple to be rebuilt. And when you’re working toward something, it’s always better to focus on the future, not just the past.
The Rebbe’s source for this idea, of course, was based in the Torah itself.
Planning the Rebuilding
After the destruction of the First Temple, the Jewish people were exiled to Babylonia.
Among them was the prophet Yechezkel, known as “the prophet of the exile.” One day, G-d appeared to him in a vision and showed him what the future Temple would look like when the Jews would return from exile.
“בֶּן אָדָם רְאֵה בְעֵינֶיךָ וּבְאָזְנֶיךָ שְׁמַע וְשִׂים לִבְּךָ לְכֹל אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי מַרְאֶה אוֹתָךְ…אַתָּ֣ה בֶן־אָדָ֗ם הַגֵּ֤ד אֶת־בֵּֽית־יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ אֶת־הַבַּ֔יִת…וְיִשְׁמְרוּ אֶת כָּל צוּרָתוֹ וְאֵת כָּל חֻקּוֹתָיו וַעֲשׂוּ אוֹתָם.
“Son of man, see with your eyes… and pay attention to everything I show you.” Why? “So you can tell the House of Israel about the Temple… and they will observe its design and laws and carry them out” (Yechezkel, chapters 40–43).
G-d gave Yechezkel this vision of the future Temple and instructed him to go tell the Jews—Jews who had just been exiled to Babylonia and knew it would be at least seventy years before they could even think about returning to Israel.
The Rebbe quotes a Midrash that tells us what happened next:
Yechezkel said to G-d, “Master of the Universe, we’re in exile, living under the rule of our enemies—and You want me to go tell them about the design of the Temple? What’s the point? They can’t actually build it right now. Let me wait until we return from exile—then I’ll tell them!”
Why teach people about building the Temple while they’re in a foreign land, unable to do anything with that knowledge? Isn’t it just adding salt to the wound—reminding them of something they so badly miss but can’t act on?
But G-d answered: “Just because My children are in exile—should the building of My House be put on hold? Go tell them about it! Let them study the design of the Temple in the Torah. And in the merit of that study, I will consider it as if they are actually building it.” (Tanuchmah 91:14)
The Rebbe explains that if this message was true in the days of the prophet Yechezkel—right after the destruction of the Temple—then how much more so is it true in our times, in the era known as Ikvasa d’Meshicha, the “footsteps of Moshiach.” When we study the Torah’s teachings about the Temple and its design, we are actually helping to bring the redemption closer (Farbrengen 24 Tammuz 5736).
The following Shabbos, the Rebbe added a fascinating idea:
“When a Jew studies the details of the Temple, it’s evident even to a non-Jew walking by; he sees a Jew deep in thought or whispering to himself, and when he asks what’s going on, the Jew replies, ‘I’m thinking about the measurements of the Temple’”…
There’s another story the Rebbe pointed to as a source for this idea:
When Haman’s decree to annihilate the Jews was announced, Mordechai gathered thousands of children and taught them Torah. After three days of fasting, Haman appeared, and the children became terrified, thinking he was coming to harm Mordechai.
The Midrash recounts that Haman asked the children, “What are you studying?” And they answered, “The mitzvah of the Omer offering, which the Jewish people bring in the Temple on this very day.”
The Rebbe pointed out: Mordechai and the children were learning the laws of the Omer offering as if the Temple was standing, the Kohen was present, and the Omer was being offered. Their only concern was: How do we bring the Omer properly?
The Rebbe concluded that this same approach applies to the Three Weeks: Even in exile, a Jew should live with the mindset that Moshiach is already here—all that’s left is to build the Temple.
Changing the Mindset
With this initiative, the Rebbe sparked a major shift in mindset.
Until then, the Three Weeks were focused entirely on the past—depressing stories of destruction and conflict. But by encouraging the study of the laws of the Temple, the Rebbe shifted our focus to the future.
When we learn how to build the Temple—and today we even have pictures, videos, and detailed models that help us visualize it—we’re not just focusing on the past; we’re turning our attention to the future. And that future is filled with hope and joy. We’re standing on the threshold of Moshiach’s arrival, and he will rebuild the Temple.
This shift in focus gives a person a completely different perspective on the Three Weeks. This kind of learning becomes a real source of encouragement—it transforms these 21 days from a period of sadness into days of optimism and joy.
This is how chassidim “mourn.”
A Moment Closer to Redemption
They tell a story about the great Rebbe, Rabbi DovBer of Radoshitz. On one of his travels, he spent the night at a roadside inn, and in the morning, he asked to see the innkeeper.
“The clock,” the Rebbe excitedly asked, “The clock hanging in my room—where is it from? Where did you get such a wonderful clock?”
The innkeeper shrugged. “It’s just a regular clock. I don’t think there’s anything special about it.”
“No, no,” the Rebbe insisted. “This is no ordinary clock! You must find out where it came from.”
The innkeeper did some investigating, and sure enough—he discovered that the clock had once belonged to the Chozeh of Lublin. One of the Chozeh’s grandchildren had inherited the clock but was forced to sell it due to extreme poverty. It had passed through many hands until it ended up in the guest room of this small inn.
When the innkeeper told the story, Rabbi Dov Ber exclaimed, “Now it all makes sense! This is the Chozeh’s clock! Only the Chozeh’s clock could measure time the way this one does.”
“Most clocks,” he explained, “tick in a sad tone. Tick-tock, tick-tock—another hour gone from your life… you’re one step closer to the grave. But this clock sounds totally different! Its ticking announces that another hour has passed and we’re that much closer to the end of exile. The Geulah is almost here!”
“I couldn’t sleep all night,” the Rebbe continued. “Every time that clock chimed on the hour, I got so excited—I couldn’t help but get up and dance!”
When we study the laws of the Temple during the Three Weeks, we begin to live with the awareness that each passing day brings us closer to rebuilding the Temple—may it be very soon, with the coming of Moshiach.
(Based on “Jewish Insights” Devarim 5785)
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