When life doesn't go as planned
- Rabbi Eliezer Zalmanov
- 20 minutes ago
- 3 min read
The weeks leading up to Tisha B'Av are filled with sadness as we remember the destruction of the Holy Temple and the long history of Jewish exile that followed. Then, almost immediately afterward, we begin reading words of comfort and hope. That timing raises an important question. If exile is so painful, why has so much of Jewish history, and so much of our Torah learning, taken place while we have been scattered across the world?
The Talmud tells of a time when the Sages were asked a difficult question and declined to answer. They explained that since the destruction of the Temple and the exile from our land, something essential had been lost. Clear thinking is harder when you are not where you belong. Anyone who has lived through stress or uncertainty understands this. It is difficult to concentrate and to think creatively when life feels unsettled.
Yet Judaism never suggests waiting for perfect conditions before learning Torah. Maimonides teaches that every Jew is obligated to study, whether young or old, healthy or ill, comfortable or struggling. So why did G-d allow the Torah to accompany us through centuries of exile? Wasn't there a better setting for Jewish learning?
The answer begins at Mount Sinai. The Torah was not given by calling the Jewish people up to Heaven. Instead, G-d came down onto the mountain. The giving of the Torah was an act of reaching downward. G-d bridged the gap between the spiritual and the physical, bringing holiness into the everyday world. Judaism is not meant to remain in lofty places. It belongs in the most ordinary parts of our lives. It wasn't an unfortunate side effect of history that Torah flourished in exile. In many ways, that is exactly what Torah was designed to do: bring holiness into places that seem least hospitable to it.
The Talmud compares Torah to water. Just as water naturally flows from high places to low ones, Torah flourishes where there is humility. A person who believes they already know everything has little room to grow. Someone who remains curious and willing to learn creates the space for wisdom to enter. The same quality that draws Torah to humble people also draws it into difficult places. Torah is never meant to remain on the mountaintop. It keeps flowing until it reaches wherever it is needed most.
That image of water teaches something even broader. Water does not stop because the terrain is rocky. It keeps flowing until it reaches every corner. Torah is meant to do the same. Its purpose is not only to inspire us during life's best moments but also to sustain us during its hardest ones. In fact, it often has its greatest impact precisely when life feels uncertain. The Mishnah even tells us to “go into exile to a place of Torah,” reminding us that growth often requires leaving our comfort zone rather than waiting for comfort to arrive.
This idea is especially meaningful just after Tisha B'Av. We mourn what we have lost, but we also recognize what has never been lost. The Temple was destroyed and Jewish communities were forced to move from country to country. Yet wherever Jews went, they carried Torah with them. It became the thread that connected generations separated by oceans and centuries.
Not all exile is geographic. Sometimes it’s the feeling that life hasn't turned out the way we expected, that we are living far from where we thought we would be. It’s tempting to believe that personal growth must wait until everything settles down.
But Torah tells us not to wait for the perfect moment, because holiness is created precisely by bringing meaning into imperfect circumstances. We grow by engaging with the challenges of life, not by escaping them.
That is the transition from Tisha B'Av to the weeks of comfort that follow. We remember the destruction, but we do not remain trapped by it. We rebuild, one meaningful choice at a time. The story of Mount Sinai reminds us that holiness doesn't wait for us to climb higher before it appears. G-d first came down to where we were. We are called upon to do the same by bringing the values of Torah into the reality of our own lives.
Even in moments of uncertainty, Torah continues to flow like water, finding every place that is ready to receive it. When we allow its wisdom into our lives, we discover that even exile can become the beginning of redemption. May we merit the ultimate redemption with the coming of Moshiach, very soon.
