Introduction: Entering Megillat Eicha
Having studied Jeremiah Chapter 36 and seen the background - how Megillat Eicha came down to us - we enter into the study of the Megillah itself, Chapter 1. Jeremiah the Prophet is the lamenter, and he is the one who authored Eicha.
As an introduction: our general approach is to study with the commentary of the Malbim. Yet when preparing to teach Megillat Eicha, there is truly a feeling of "Eicha" upon realizing that the Malbim did not write a commentary on this Megillah. This is a source of great sorrow, for the Malbim is a brilliant luminary across Tanach, and here on Eicha he did not leave us an orderly commentary running through the text as was his custom; there is only a brief commentary on a very narrow matter. Therefore, we will learn here with the explanations of the classical commentators - various commentators who elucidate the verses. One can always expound endlessly, and we will endeavor to look at several commentaries on each verse to understand the matter and move forward.
אֵיכָה יָשְׁבָה בָדָד הָעִיר רַבַּתִי עָם הָיְתָה כְּאַלְמָנָה רַבַּתִי בַגּוֹיִם שָׂרָתִי בַּמְּדִינוֹת הָיְתָה לָמַס׃ - How lonely sits the city that was full of people! She has become like a widow; she who was great among the nations, a princess among the provinces, has become a tributary.
"Eicha" - From the First Expulsion to Our Own
Jeremiah writes and proclaims, "How lonely sits the city": how was it decreed upon Jerusalem and her people to be sentenced to expulsion? And like whom? Like Adam and Chava. They, too, were expelled - from the Garden of Eden, and concerning them it was said, "Ayekah" ("Where are you?" - which shares the same letters as Eicha), followed immediately by exile. So too here: that same "Eicha" was fulfilled in the Jewish people themselves, and they too were driven from the city, expelled from Jerusalem, and the Beit HaMikdash was destroyed.
And what is the definition of "badad" (lonely or solitary)? Like a person afflicted with tzara'at, a metzora, of whom it is said: "He shall dwell solitary; outside the camp shall be his dwelling." Thus, "How lonely sits the city" - like a metzora dwelling outside the camp.
"She has become like a widow" - Jerusalem had been the merchant of the nations; many peoples would stream to her, and now she was emptied of them. Those nations who came were in the role of a husband: they provided, they bestowed bounty, livelihoods came through them - and now they have all abandoned her, leaving her like a widow. "She who was great among the nations" - "rabati" denotes greatness and exalted status; she was the mightiest among the nations, and everyone would bring tribute to her. "She has become a tributary" - but now the wheel has turned, and she is the one forced to pay tribute to the nations.
Three Laments in a Single Verse
Thus states Aryeh ben Yechiel: Jeremiah uttered three laments here. One lament over the physical destruction - "How lonely sits the city," the people who inhabited it having been decimated. A second lament over the spiritual destruction, the departure of the Shechinah - "she who was full of people has become like a widow," like a widow whose Shechinah has departed from her, for the Shechinah is in the position of her Husband, the Beloved of Shir HaShirim; spirituality has departed from her. And the third lament is over the loss of the land, Eretz HaTzvi - "a princess among the provinces has become a tributary," a land that was considered the most prestigious of all lands, and now she pays tribute.
Three Advantages - Yet Still Conquered
Notice: at first he calls her "the city that was full of people," and afterward "a princess among the provinces" - defining her as a province. What is the meaning of this? One must realize that a state or province is difficult to conquer for three reasons, and even one of them is enough to thwart another nation seeking to conquer it. First, a vast population: it is hard to conquer Russia, China, or India - even assuming they lacked advanced weaponry - because they possess boundless manpower; with a billion people, how could one conquer them? How many could be killed? Second, even without a vast population, if the inhabitants are wise and astute, masters of military tactics - a small, ingenious army. And third, even without a vast population or special military genius, if the city is encircled by a formidable wall that is exceptionally difficult to breach.
The author of the lamentation comes and argues - as explained in Lechem Dim'ah - how could it be that Jerusalem was conquered, when it possessed all three distinct advantages? "How does the city sit solitary, that was full of people" - for she was populous, inhabited by a vast multitude, and when there is a large population, conquest is extremely difficult. "She has become like a widow, she that was great among the nations" - for this was a city that housed the greatest sages, and soon we will see the renowned wisdom of the people of Jerusalem; she was famed among the nations for the greatness of her wise men. And furthermore, "a princess among the provinces" - an expression of dominion (serarah), indicating that she had fortified walls far surpassing other lands. How, then, "has she become tributary"? In simple terms: from here you see that everything occurred through Divine Providence. This was not a natural event, for naturally speaking, it was inconceivable that enemies could come and conquer Jerusalem with all three advantages in her favor. From this you must realize that the Holy One, blessed be He, delivered us into their hands by a decree from On High, because of the deeds of Israel.
A Question and an Answer in a Single Verse
Others explain that the author utters "Eicha" ("How") as a question, and within this very same verse there is both a question and its answer. He asks: "How does the city sit solitary, that was full of people?" And the answer follows immediately: "She has become like a widow." When a woman is married and has a husband and family, people acknowledge her and hold her in high esteem. But when she is widowed, her husband is gone, her relatives distance themselves, and her children gradually leave her. The verse tells you: it is not without reason that this city became what it became, nor was it destroyed without cause - rather, it was because "she has become like a widow." And who is her husband? The Holy One, blessed be He, Hashem Yitbarach, the Beloved in Shir HaShirim, where the bride is Kenesset Yisrael. And since her Husband has departed from her, you naturally understand why she remains solitary, for once He leaves, everyone else abandons her as well. This is the explanation of Rabbi Moshe Almosnino.
"Ayeih Koh" - A Question and an Answer in a Single Word
In Lechem Dim'ah, he cites a magnificent Midrash. Chazal read the word Eicha as two separate words: Ayeih Koh ("Where is 'so'?"). What is the meaning of Ayeih Koh? Where is the promise given to Avraham at the Covenant Between the Parts: "So (koh) shall your offspring be"? For here we see the Jewish people being destroyed, hunted, and driven into exile - so where is that koh? The Midrash then seeks another koh: "Thus (koh) shall you say to the house of Yaakov," "Thus (koh) shall you say to the Children of Israel" - where is that koh? The first Ayeih Koh is readily understood: there was a Divine promise, "So shall your offspring be," so where was it fulfilled? But what is the meaning of the second Ayeih Koh?
The Lechem Dim'ah provides a wonderful explanation: the Midrash comes to teach that here too, a question and its answer are contained within a single word. The question: Where is "So (koh) shall your offspring be" - where is the promise that went unfulfilled for us? And the answer: there is another koh, which is "Thus (koh) shall you say to the house of Yaakov," "Thus (koh) shall you speak to the Children of Israel" - the observance of the Torah and its mitzvot. Where is that? Before you ask Me where "So shall your offspring be" is, I ask you: where is "Thus shall you say to the house of Yaakov"? Thus you must understand that once the mitzvot are neglected, the condition stipulated by the Holy One, blessed be He, for resting His Shechinah among us no longer exists. Do not wonder, then, why the Holy One, blessed be He, departed, and why the promise of "So shall your offspring be" was not realized in this generation.
Three Prophesied with the Expression "Eicha"
The Midrash states: Three prophets delivered prophecies using the expression "Eicha" - Moshe, Yeshayahu, and Yirmiyahu. Moshe said: "How (eicha) can I bear alone your bother, your burden, and your strife?" In which parashah? In Parashat Devarim. And when is it always read? On the Shabbat immediately preceding Tisha B'Av - just as Parashat Bemidbar is always read on the Shabbat before Shavuot, so Parashat Devarim, containing "How can I bear alone," is read on the Shabbat before Tisha B'Av. Yeshayahu said: "How (eicha) has the faithful city become a harlot!" And Yirmiyahu said: "How (eicha) does she sit solitary." Three of the greatest leaders of Israel expressed themselves and prophesied using the word Eicha - what links them together, and what does the Midrash intend to convey through this?
The Lechem Dim'ah explains: Chazal came to teach us that there is no suffering without prior sin, and here is the proof from the three prophets who prophesied to Israel using the expression Eicha. Moshe Rabbeinu says, "How can I bear alone your bother, your burden, and your strife" - but why indeed was it impossible for him to bear it alone? What happened? Chazal explain that Moshe Rabbeinu said: You, the people of Israel, are great and formidable. Could it be that Moshe Rabbeinu was incapable of judging Israel? The Midrash explains: he said, "Hashem, the God of your fathers, has multiplied you, magnified you, and elevated you above your judges; He removed the penalty from you and placed it upon your judges." And similarly King Solomon said: "For who is able to judge this vast people of Yours?" From this you see that the Jewish people are of immense spiritual stature. Could the one who brought down the manna, brought forth the quail, ascended to heaven, and brought down the Torah be unable to judge the people of Israel? Rather, they are monumental, they are giants, and because of this, the slightest error or trivial misjudgment immediately transfers the liability of punishment onto the judge. It is profoundly difficult to judge the people of Israel - "How can I bear alone."
And if so, if the Jewish people are so great and formidable, Yirmiyahu's bewilderment only deepens: "How does she sit solitary?" How could those very individuals who were so exalted and mighty, of whom it was said, "How can I bear alone" - giants of that stature - descend to such an inferior and degraded state, exiled and battered? The answer is found in the words of Yeshayahu: "How has the faithful city become a harlot!" Are you astounded, "How does she sit solitary," regarding those who were once spoken of with "How can I bear alone"? Look at them - come and see what sins were committed within her, what spiritual blemishes and moral corruption: "Righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers." Once they were great, once they were people of exalted standing, but they fell from their spiritual heights and were consequently punished. Moshe saw them in their greatness - "How can I bear alone your bother, your burden, and your strife," for you are exceedingly great; and Yirmiyahu saw them in their degradation - "How does the city sit solitary, that was full of people," in their lowest and most humiliated state.
"Yashvah" - Yud Shavah
By way of allusion (remez), it is said: "Eicha yashvah" can be read as Yud shavah (the ten departed). The lamenter asks, as it were: Eicha - where is the Yud, the ten, that was within her? For there are ten ascending levels of sanctity, one above the other - Jerusalem, the Temple Mount, and so forth, culminating in the Holy of Holies. And he asks: Where are the ten levels of sanctity that have retreated (shavu) and vanished? For now, they have all been reduced to the status of badad ("solitary"). And what is the numerical value (gematria) of badad (ב-ד-ד = 2+4+4)? Ten. This teaches you that those ten degrees of holiness, as it were, fell from their height and were nullified; and from the Yud (ten) levels of holiness, there remained only badad.
"Great Among the Nations" - Great in Intellect
Chazal explain: "Great among the nations" - great in intellect. Every person from Jerusalem was regarded as exceptionally shrewd and wise. "Great in intellect" means that the mental sharpness, wisdom, and stature of the sages of Jerusalem were extraordinarily formidable; they were viewed as profound, keen, and profoundly insightful thinkers. Whenever one of the residents of Jerusalem traveled abroad - to another country - the local leaders would bring out an honorable seat for him and build a podium to hear his wisdom, saying: "You are from Jerusalem; come share words of wisdom with us." Therefore, the prophet laments: How does Jerusalem sit solitary, the city once full of people? A city that possessed such immense wisdom, how did all its wisdom fail to stand by it? Furthermore, "great among the nations" indicates that even among royalty (derived from *rav*, the king's grandees), people showed them great honor because of their profound wisdom. How did these sages suddenly appear in their degradation and recklessness, descending to such a lowly and disgraced state?
The Story of the Heir - Three Displays of Wisdom
The Midrash recounts many episodes showcasing the greatness and wisdom of the people of Jerusalem. A story is told of a man from Jerusalem who traveled to a city in the East. There were many wise men in the East, yet through his wisdom he surpassed them all - just as it is written concerning Shlomo: "And Shlomo's wisdom excelled the wisdom of all the children of the east," where *kedem* refers to the East; there are many forms of wisdom in the Far East, yet the sages of Jerusalem were wiser still.
When this man's time came to pass away there, he wished to leave behind an inheritance, but he did not know how to transfer it or who would receive it, as he was far from his hometown. He summoned the owner of the lodging where he stayed, saw that he was an honest and trustworthy man, and deposited everything he owned into his care - a very substantial sum of money. He said to him: "If my son comes from Jerusalem to inquire about what happened to his father, and he demonstrates three acts of wisdom before you, give him all that I have left here, and you will know that he is truly my son." In plain words: if he is not wise enough, do not give it to him, for he is not worthy of it; but if he demonstrates three acts of wisdom, that will serve as a sign identifying him as my son. The Midrash relates that the innkeeper then agreed with the townspeople not to disclose to the son where his father had lodged - whether to put him to the test, or perhaps to keep the inheritance for himself, who can say.
Sometime later, the son arrived. As he reached the entrance of the city, he saw a man carrying a bundle of wood on his shoulder - there were people whose livelihood was gathering firewood and delivering it to homes. He asked him, "Are you willing to sell me that wood?" The man answered, "Yes." The son said, "Take payment, and deliver it to the home of so-and-so." The son knew the name of the man his father had lodged with, but the locals refused to reveal the house, so he devised a stratagem: he hired the woodcutter and followed behind him. The woodcutter took his pay and carried the load of wood to the man's home. When he arrived, he said to the homeowner, "Come take this load of wood from me." The master of the house asked, "Did I ask you to bring me firewood?" The woodcutter replied, "Indeed you did not, but that man behind me instructed me to deliver it to you." The plan worked - the son had identified the house and knew where his father had stayed. The master of the house invited him inside, prepared a feast in his honor, and asked, "Who are you and what brings you here?" The young man answered, "I am the son of the man who passed away here."
That master of the house had two sons and two daughters. At the feast, they served five small roasted birds. The host said to his guest, "Please carve and serve them." He wanted to test whether the young man was sharp-witted. The son replied, "You are the host; you should divide them." The host insisted, "No, I would like you to divide them." So he took them and distributed them: he placed one bird between the host and his wife, one bird between the two sons, one bird between the two daughters, and took the remaining two for himself. They said nothing to him, though they could not understand how he had arrived at such an unusual division.
Toward evening, they brought out a single fattened hen for dinner - they had reasoned that serving multiple birds was risky, as he might take most of them again, whereas with a single hen, he would be forced to portion it out. The host said to him, "Divide it." The son said, "It is not mine to divide." The host replied, "I give you permission." He took it and divided it: he placed the head before the host, the innards before his wife, the two thighs before the two sons, the wings before the two daughters, and kept the entire torso for himself. The host said to him, "Is this how division is done where you come from? At first I held my tongue, but now I see you distributing the food in a completely nonsensical manner!" The son replied, "And why is it not proper? Let me explain. At lunch, you served five birds. You and your wife are two, and with one bird, you make three. Your two sons are two, and with one bird, they make three. Your two daughters are two, and with one bird, they make three. And I am one, and with two birds, we make three. Thus, all of us were equal!"
The host said, "And what about now? You kept the entire body for yourself, tossed me the head, gave my wife the innards - who even eats innards? - and gave each of my daughters a wing; what are they supposed to eat from that?" The son replied, "Here too, I divided with sound logic. To you I gave the head, because you are the head of the household. The innards I gave to your wife, for from her womb your children came forth. The two thighs went to the two sons, for the thighs are the pillars of the house, just as sons are - as Chazal say, 'a son is the leg of his father.' The two wings went to the two daughters, because daughters will soon take flight from you, marrying and leaving home like fledglings leaving the nest. And I took the body of the bird, because the torso - the ridge of the backbone - resembles a ship; and by ship I arrived, and by ship I shall depart. Now, arise and hand over what belongs to me from my father's estate, and I will go on my way in peace." Having no choice, since the son had demonstrated three distinct acts of wisdom, the host handed over the inheritance, and the son departed in peace - fulfilling that which is said: "Great among the nations."
The Incident of the Salt - "The Salt of Wealth Is Diminution"
The Midrash recounts another episode: A certain man came from Athens to Jerusalem. Athens was renowned as a city of scholars, which is why the Midrash highlights several stories specifically involving scholars from Athens; they were men of great intellect, and prevailing over their wit required immense sharpness and wisdom. This Athenian arrived in Jerusalem and encountered a young boy. He gave him some coins and said, "Go buy me something of which I can eat, be fully satisfied, and have leftovers remaining to serve as provisions for the journey." The boy went and brought back salt. The man said, "If I had wanted salt, I would have told you to bring salt! What is this?" The boy replied, "Did you not tell me to bring something of which you could eat and be satisfied? Indeed, after a single spoonful you are completely full and will have no desire for more. 'And have leftovers' - you still have an entire bag remaining; and you will have ample provisions for the journey." The boy smiled and added, "It contains every single quality you asked for; you see that whatever you requested is right here."
It is told that an Orthodox rabbi once visited a Reform temple, or a similarly lax congregation, and they said to him: "We are willing to let you speak, but on three conditions - it must relate to the weekly Torah portion, it must be brief, and you may not quote any verses; you rabbis love quoting verses, so tell a story, without citing verses." He stepped up to the podium, announced: "The weekly portion is Parashat Bemidbar" - and stepped down. They said to him, "What was that? Is that all?" He replied: "It fulfills all of your conditions: it was brief, it did not quote any verses, and it was about the weekly portion. What more could you want? Everything you requested is right here."
Yet Chazal do not bring mere anecdotes; they want to show us the depth of the matter. And what did they wish to show? A person who wishes to salt his wealth - what is the salt that preserves wealth? Salt preserves meat, and what is the salt that preserves wealth? Charity. "The salt of wealth is diminution (chesser)" - with a dagesh in the samech: diminish (chasser) your wealth for charity. This is what salts one's wealth and causes it to endure, and through this he will have the principal in this world and in the World to Come. The story comes to hint that their shortcoming was a lack of charity, a lack of salt; had there been charity in Jerusalem - had there been salt in it - they would have merited to be saved from the hands of the enemies.
The Broken Mortar and Threads of Sand
There is a story of a man who came from Athens and found a broken mortar - a mortar used for grinding, a pestle and mortar. He took it and brought it to a tailor, saying to him: "Sew this broken mortar for me." Like in Novardok, where they would enter a pharmacy and ask for nails in order to be disgraced; they had such a method and approach, that a person must search within himself and humble himself. He said to him: "Sew the mortar for me." The tailor took out a handful of sand and said to him: "Take this sand, spin threads from it for me, and I will sew the mortar for you - after all, I need tools for my work."
And what did they intend to hint at with this, and why was this juxtaposed to the previous story? It comes to tell you that Jerusalem was destroyed only because they did not practice charity and because of the baseless hatred among them. The Jewish people are like a discarded mortar - and what is a mortar? An object in which things are constantly crushed and ground down. So too, the Jewish people are crushed and cast aside; and not only is it a mortar, but a broken, discarded mortar - ground, crushed, and broken. He meant to say, as it were, that they have no remedy. But the tailor gives him a handful of sand to hint: just as sand sets on edge the teeth of whoever eats it, so in the Messianic era Israel will set on edge the teeth of their devourers. That is to say, do not look only at the present: today the mortar is broken, and how does one repair a stone mortar? By pouring sand, like concrete, and restoring it. He says to him: today it is broken, but that very same sand - whoever has now broken it, this sand will grind his teeth with gravel, for chewing sand sets teeth on edge and sends shivers down the spine. It comes to tell you: in the Messianic era, the Jewish people will set on edge the teeth of those who devour them, and they will be like the sand upon the seashore. In simple words - our flaws and shortcomings are temporary, and we are destined to rise once again. It is true that the Jewish people suffer, Heaven forbid, but do not think this is their permanent state.
The Cheeses and the Eggs - What Will Be Seen in the Future
There is a story of a man who came from Athens to Jerusalem, found a young boy, and gave him coins. He said to him: "Go and bring me eggs and cheeses." When he returned, the Athenian said to him: "Show me which cheese was made from the milk of a white goat and which from the milk of a black goat." The boy said to him: "Look, I am just a boy, I am young and not a great sage like you, but you have come from Athens and are a great sage - here, I have also brought eggs; show me which egg came from a white hen and which from a black hen. And if you, the great sage, cannot show me this, how am I to show you regarding the cheese?"
What is hinted at in this story? There are many explanations, and there is even an elaborate allusion to the twenty-one days of mourning during the Three Weeks (Bein HaMetzarim), but we will not delve into that. There is a wonderful explanation cited in the name of Rav Shabtai Yudelevitz. The gentile, as it were, comes and says: "You Jews consider yourselves exalted; you say, 'We are the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; we possess the merit of our fathers.' But I do not understand - when I take cheese, can one tell by looking at it whether it came from a black goat or a white goat? Impossible. You came from a white goat - from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob - and we came from a black goat - from Balaam, from Esau. And what do you gain from it? The cheese that comes from a white goat and the cheese that comes from a black goat are identical, and if so, there is no difference between us and you, and you possess no greatness or superiority over us."
The boy answers him: "You are mistaken. The comparison is not to cheeses; the comparison is to eggs. Tell me now, which egg here came from a white hen and which from a black hen? You do not know. And how will it be possible to know? We will place a hen to brood over the eggs, and chicks will emerge from the eggs: a black hen produces black chicks, and a white hen produces white chicks." In other words, he told him: "You are right; today this matter is concealed, today we appear the same, and the Jewish people are currently in a degraded state. But let the eggs be incubated - the Jewish people will grow and return to their former glory, the Messianic era will come, days will arrive when the greatness and exalted stature of Israel will be revealed and all the nations will bow down with their faces to the ground, and then the difference will truly be recognized. But what can be done - these eggs still need to be brooded over; the Jewish people must still undergo crushing before reaching their exalted level. You are right that today nothing is visible and the eggs are identical, but in the future it will be clearly evident who came from a black hen and who from a white hen, even though at present the difference is neither seen nor discernible."
In summary:
The opening verse of Eicha contains within it the entire lamentation: expulsion like Adam and Eve, dwelling alone like a leper outside the camp, widowhood in which there is neither husband nor Shechinah, and a city that was a princess among provinces and has become tributary. Precisely because it possessed all three advantages - multitude of people, supreme wisdom, and fortified walls - it is evident that its fall was not natural, but a heavenly decree brought on by its deeds, for there is no suffering without iniquity: Moses saw them in their greatness, Isaiah exposed their corruption, and Jeremiah lamented their degradation. "Where is: So shall your seed be?" is answered by "Where is: So shall you say to the house of Jacob?" And the stories of the sages of Jerusalem in the Midrash teach both of its greatness and of its deficiency - the lack of salt, of charity, and the baseless hatred. Yet through all this, the sand that repairs the mortar and the eggs yet to be brooded over promise that this state is temporary: the Jewish people are destined to rise, to set on edge the teeth of their devourers, and to return to their former glory.