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“Eicha – Where Are You?”: A Reflection for Shabbat Chazon and Tisha B’Av

  • Writer: Yudit Rosenbaum
    Yudit Rosenbaum
  • Jun 30
  • 4 min read

As we approach chatzot hayom—midday this Shabbat—we prepare ourselves both spiritually and emotionally. This Shabbat is unique. It is Shabbat Chazon, and it coincides with the day on which Tisha B’Av falls. Because of this overlap, we are encouraged to fulfill certain spiritual preparations—especially speaking Divrei Torah—before chatzot, before the tone of the day shifts.

This Shabbat, we begin the final book of the Torah, Sefer Devarim. But more than just the beginning of a new Chumash, this is Shabbat Chazon, the "Shabbat of Vision." It is named after the Haftarah from Yeshayahu, Chazon Yeshayahu ben Amotz—a vision of destruction, warning, and rebuke.


The Power of Words and Vision

The connection between Sefer Devarim and Shabbat Chazon is profound. Devarim opens with “These are the words which Moshe spoke…”—Eileh ha-devarim asher diber Moshe. These are Moshe Rabbeinu’s final words to Bnei Yisrael before his passing—words of blessing, rebuke, guidance, and love. Chazal emphasize how carefully Moshe selected each word to awaken and inspire. Words have power. They can uplift or destroy. They can trigger reflection, repentance, and renewal.

In contrast, Chazon refers to vision—specifically the insight of Yeshayahu HaNavi. Yeshayahu lived over 150 years before the destruction of the First Beit HaMikdash, during a time of prosperity, national pride, and material success. On the surface, all was well. But Yeshayahu saw deeper. He saw the spiritual decay hidden beneath the beauty and power.

Even an animal, Yeshayahu rebukes, recognizes its master. “Yada shor koneihu”—the ox knows who feeds it. But Am Yisrael, who had everything—forgot Hashem. Just like Moshe Rabbeinu warned in Devarim: “Do not forget the One who sustained you in the desert for 40 years.”

When life is good, it’s easy to become spiritually complacent. But when we forget that every breath, every blessing, comes from Hashem—that forgetfulness is the beginning of the end.


From Chazon to Eicha

Yeshayahu prophesied with warning. Yirmiyahu, decades later, experienced the destruction with tears. He opens Megillat Eicha with a cry: “Eicha!” How could this happen? It is the eternal question we ask in times of sorrow: How? Why?

Chazal offer a subtle yet deep insight: The word “Eicha” is linked to the question “Ayeka?” – Where are you? This was Hashem’s question to Adam HaRishon after his sin. Ayeka—where are you in your mission? In your spiritual responsibilities?

Even with billions in the world, Hashem addresses each of us personally. “Where are you? What are you doing to bring geulah, to fix the world?”

Rambam teaches: Every individual must believe, “The world was created for me.” That’s not a statement of arrogance—it’s a call to action. Each of us has the power to tip the scales, to be the spark that ignites redemption.

So when we cry Eicha, we must also ask Ayeka—Where am I?


The Power of Tears

There’s a well-known story about Napoleon. One night, he passed a synagogue and saw Jews sitting on the floor, weeping in candlelight. He asked what had happened. “They are mourning the destruction of their Temple,” he was told. “When did it happen?” he asked. “Over 1800 years ago,” came the reply. Napoleon was stunned. “A nation that remembers such loss for so long is destined to rebuild.”

But why cry? What do tears accomplish?

The Midrash tells us that when the Beit HaMikdash was destroyed, Yirmiyahu’s cries echoed from one end of the world to the other. People asked him: “Why are you crying? Didn’t you know this would happen?” But pain isn’t logical. When something hurts, we cry. And that pain has power. It can wake us up.

Bachot tivkeh balailah—"She cries in the night." Our nighttime crying symbolizes exile, galut. The very first night of tears was when the meraglim, the spies, returned and caused the people to weep for no reason—bechiya shel chinam. Hashem said, “You cried without cause on this night? Then this will become a night of true crying.”


Lashon Hara and the Reversed Alphabet

In Megillat Eicha, each chapter is written in alphabetical order—Aleph to Tav. Chazal explain that Am Yisrael sinned with every part of themselves—every letter of the alphabet. But in chapter 2, the order is reversed: Peh (mouth) comes before Ayin (eye).

Why? Because the spies spoke before they saw. They spread rumors, lashon hara, even when they hadn’t witnessed the truth. This reversal highlights the root of so much destruction: the misuse of speech.

There’s a chilling story of a boy in Jerusalem who lost a golden coin. He accused a shopkeeper. Rumors spread. The storekeeper lost his business and his dignity. Only later was it revealed that the boy had dropped the coin and a thief had stolen it. But the damage was done. Patzu alai pihem—they opened their mouths, and the words killed him.

Once harmful speech spreads, it’s almost impossible to take back.


Rebuilding from Within

At the end of Eicha, we plead: Hashiveinu Hashem eilecha v’nashuva—Return us to You, Hashem, and we shall return. We long to come home. We long for the Beit HaMikdash. But it begins with nachpesah deracheinu v’nachkorah—let us examine our ways and return.

Every action, every word, every moment of awareness helps rebuild what was destroyed. The gezeirah, the decree, doesn't come from Hashem randomly—it is rooted in our behavior. Mipie Elyon lo teitzei haraot v’hatovot—everything is a response to us.

So as we sit on the floor this Motzei Shabbat, as we read Eicha, and cry once again, let us remember that our tears are not empty. They are not just mourning. They are yearning. They are a form of building.

Let us cry—but let us cry for the right reasons. Let us see the darkness—but also know that we have the power to bring light.

Let us answer Hashem’s call: Ayeka?—Where are you?

And may our answer be: Hineni—Here I am. (Audio 2019)

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