Chapter 1 of Eicha is the opening lament: the prophet describes ruined Jerusalem, the exile, and the weeping. The lesson before us is dedicated entirely to verse 2 - "She weeps bitterly in the night" - a verse that appears simple, yet conceals dozens of explanations within it: why specifically at night, why the future tense, what is the meaning of "her tears are on her cheek," and who are her "lovers" and "friends" who betrayed her?
בָּכוֹ תִבְכֶּה בַּלַּיְלָה וְדִמְעָתָהּ עַל לֶחֱיָהּ אֵין־לָהּ מְנַחֵם מִכׇּל־אֹהֲבֶיהָ כׇּל־רֵעֶיהָ בָּגְדוּ בָהּ הָיוּ לָהּ לְאֹיְבִים׃ - She weeps bitterly in the night, and her tears are on her cheek; she has no comforter among all her lovers; all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they have become her enemies.
Midrash Eicha asks: "She weeps bitterly in the night" - why at night? Because sound carries only at night. This is a very interesting phenomenon: if a person stands at night and sighs "ah," it can be heard across the entire town; if that same person walks around during the day and shouts, he will not even be heard on the next street. What is the difference? The Gemara says that during the day the sun saws through the expanse of the sky, and the sound of the sawing sun prevents sound from traveling. Today it has already been proven scientifically that the presence of light and daytime conditions causes sound not to carry far. It turns out, then, that the time when sound travels is the night - "sound carries only at night."
Rabbi Aivu further taught: night brings lamentations with it. For depressed people, the night stirs up deeper depression. The night, the darkness, that very state - it is much easier for them to let go and weep.
The Gemara recounts the story of a woman who lived in the neighborhood of Rabban Gamliel whose young son had died, and she would weep every night. Rabban Gamliel would hear her voice, and having a sensitive heart, he would begin weeping along with her. He would recall the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash and weep until his eyelashes fell out. Eventually, his disciples asked that woman to relocate so she would not continue causing Rabban Gamliel distress. From here we see this fundamental point: at night sound carries far, and the night brings weeping in its wake.
The Lechem Dimah explains differently: it is the way of the world to rest at night. Even one who is in distress - at night at least he sleeps, at night at least he rests. But at the time of the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, the sorrow was so dreadful that they wept not only during the day, but also at night, during what is naturally a time of rest - even then, "her tears are on her cheek," without respite.
Rabbi Almosnino explains: all weeping in the world eventually comes to an end, but here weeping dragged weeping in its wake. "She weeps bitterly" [bacho tivkeh] - every bout of weeping she cried triggered further weeping, without pause.
In the sefer Toldot Yosef, the author asks: why the repetition "she weeps bitterly" [bacho tivkeh]? After all, there is a decree that the dead be forgotten from the heart, and according to this, we should have forgotten the Beit HaMikdash by now and moved on. Why, year after year, on every Tisha B'Av, is it "she weeps bitterly"?
The answer lies in what is written in the holy books: in truth, the nations had no power whatsoever to harm the Beit HaMikdash. A gentile has no contact with the upper realms, and the Beit HaMikdash is the dwelling place of the Shechinah - he has no ability at all to harm or damage such a thing (and whoever wishes to expand on this can hear it explained in the shiur on Nefesh HaChaim). Rather, what happened? As the Gemara says, the Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: "You have ground ground flour" (kimcha techina techinat). The very essence of the Beit HaMikdash, its true being, was concealed in the celestial heights, and what remained below was, as it were, something virtual - wood and stones gathered here by the angels, making him imagine that he had destroyed a house.
And see how the facts prove this: they entered the Beit HaMikdash, Titus brought in a harlot, spread out a Sefer Torah and committed a transgression upon it, and slashed the Parochet (veil). For far less than that - for an improper thought alone - a Kohen Gadol entering the Holy of Holies would die. Yet he commits such abominations and does not die? From this you understand: when he entered, it was no longer the Beit HaMikdash. The Beit HaMikdash had already been taken away; all that remained here was a decoy, cardboard props, something that merely looked like the Beit HaMikdash.
And who really ground this flour? Who possesses real contact with the spiritual realm? The Jewish people. The destruction of the Beit HaMikdash is charged to our account, because we, through our actions, caused the Beit HaMikdash to depart. To be sure, it was not literally "destroyed" in the physical sense, but rather departed; yet who caused that departure? "Flee, my Beloved" - the Jewish people, through their deeds.
With this, we can understand the plea of King David: "Let it be known as one wielding axes upward in the thicket of trees" (Tehillim 74:5). Even though Titus did not truly destroy the Beit HaMikdash, does that clear him of guilt? No! Master of the Universe, reckon the sin against him: "Let it be known as one wielding upward" - as though he waged his war and wrought his destruction Above, even though in truth he has no access there. "In the thicket of trees with axes" - as though he struck and demolished the real Beit HaMikdash with his axes. Let there be no situation where one might say: he did not destroy the Beit HaMikdash, so his punishment should be light. No - let it be considered as if he actually destroyed it.
It turns out, then, that the Beit HaMikdash still exists. And now you can understand why "she weeps bitterly" (bacho tivkeh): there is a decree that the dead are forgotten from the heart - but did the Beit HaMikdash die? According to what we have explained, it is alive and enduring, only not here - it has departed. And because it still lives, it is not forgotten from the heart; and because of that, we still remember it night after night, and every Tisha B'Av we lament the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash.
The Rokeach brings another explanation: "All her friends have dealt treacherously with her" - this refers to the angels. It is written that the Jewish people of that generation were immensely wise, proficient in all the secrets of the Torah, in adjuring demons and angels, and in the holy Names. They said: when the armies of Nebuchadnezzar arrive here, we will adjure the angels; Michael, the prince of water, will surround Jerusalem with water, and Gabriel, the prince of fire, will surround Jerusalem with fire, and in this way the enemy will not be able to approach.
And what did the Holy One, blessed be He, do? "He profaned the kingdom and its princes" - He swapped the names of the supernal ministers. Thus, when one of them came to adjure and pray, it was as if they told him: the number you have reached is not in service. The Holy One, blessed be He, changed the entire matrix of the Names and rectifications, and changed their functions, so that when someone focused his mystical intentions, it did not work; it had no effect. And this was perceived by them as betrayal: Michael and Gabriel, those who were supposed to be our friends, "dealt treacherously with her"; we turn to them and they do not answer, they do not respond, as if betraying our pleas.
And there is an allusion to this in the wording of the verse: "She has no comforter among all her lovers (mi-kol oheveha)" - take the letters mem, chaf, lamed, alef, and you get "mal'ach" (angel); and if you combine them further, you get "Michael." It emerges, then, that "all her lovers" who betrayed us are the angels, whom we expected to protect and guard us.
The Kol Yaakov, the Maggid of Dubno, explains "she weeps bitterly" (bacho tivkeh) - weeping after weeping: since we have no Mikdash and no altar to atone for us, one must therefore weep profusely.
To what is this comparable? To a wealthy man who had every luxury in his home and would host the most lavish banquets. As you know, when the wealthy host a feast, bread does not take center stage. Why fill your stomach with bread when there are steaks, eight varieties of meat, and seven kinds of fish? They bring out a little bread for whoever wants, but the main courses are the focus. At a certain point, this wealthy man lost his fortune and could no longer serve fatted fowl at his table; everything dwindled down to nothing. Yet with the bread, they continued just as before, serving only a small amount. His household said to him: "When there was not much bread, there was meat, there was plenty to eat. But now that we have neither meat nor fruit, at least bring out bread properly, so that we can be filled with bread!"
And the lesson is: When the Beit HaMikdash stood, we had a Sanctuary and we had an altar, and they atoned for us. The afternoon Tamid offering atoned for the sins of the day, the morning Tamid atoned for the sins of the night; we had a Beit HaMikdash that shielded us. Now that we have no Beit HaMikdash - "and we will render the prayer of our lips in place of bulls." What is left for us to do? To weep, to plead, to beseech. Until now, weeping and prayer were limited, for there were sacrifices and there was a Beit HaMikdash. But now, if the main courses are gone - at least increase the portion of bread. Therefore, "she weeps bitterly," weeping upon weeping, to make up at least a little of what we lack because we no longer have an altar and a Sanctuary to atone for us.
Furthermore, the Kol Yaakov, the Dubno Maggid, explains: Why "she weeps bitterly in the night"? A parable of a youth who came to his father and said, "Father, I heard terrible sounds of weeping in so-and-so's house." His father asked him, "Over what?" He replied, "Their only son passed away - a young boy, an only child, what immense heartache!" The father said to him, "True, that is great sorrow, but I heard the cry of orphans weeping for their parents, and there is a vast difference. Parents who weep for their son - after a week, two weeks, a month, a year, two years - will eventually be consoled. In contrast, orphans weeping for their parents weep on a daily basis. Why? Because each day anew: I have nothing to eat, I have nothing to wear, there is no one caring for me, no one providing for me. A father weeping for his son feels the pain of longing alone; but a child weeping for his parents experiences the hardship anew every single day, for he has no parents. That weeping is vastly greater."
And the lesson is: We were exiled to Babylon, we sat by the rivers of Babylon and there we wept as well. Yirmiyahu says to them: This weeping is still minor compared to the crying you are destined to weep in exile. Why? Because you still have the craftsmen and the smiths [the Charash and the Masger - the great Torah scholars] who were exiled with you, builders of fences who stand in the breach. But know that in the long exile there will be a great weeping: we will no longer have those Sages - where is the counter, where is the scribe? Where are those experts, where are the Torah giants of previous generations? In the long exile, you will not have any of this.
And this is "she weeps bitterly in the night" - exile is likened to night, for exile darkens the eyes of Israel. Know that there is the weeping of a father for his son, but the weeping of a child for his father is an exceedingly long weeping, a weeping of the night, for every single day the hardship is felt anew: we have no Sages, we have no Torah giants like those of previous generations, and the Holy One, blessed be He, does not rest His Shechinah upon us as in times of old. This weeping is far greater and much more prolonged than that weeping.
The book Kol Bochim brings another explanation. It is written that all gates are locked except for the gates of tears - and one must ask, if the gates of tears are never locked, why are there gates there at all? Rabbeinu Bachya resolves this: The gates exist against crocodile tears. There are tears that are insincere, and for those, gates are needed. The gates of tears are never locked when the tear is genuine, when one cries from the heart; but if the weeping is insincere - those are crocodile tears.
And why are they called this? When a crocodile rises from the water, water that collected in its eyes drains out, and an onlooker thinks the crocodile is weeping - but these are not genuine tears at all. So too, weeping that is insincere is called crocodile tears, onion tears, where a person is not genuinely weeping.
And why were the gates of tears not locked? Because who is the gatekeeper of the gates of tears? The Holy One, blessed be He, Himself in His glory. And this is what the verse means: Why does she weep? Because "all her friends have dealt treacherously with her." We had many gates, and suddenly we see the gates locked - and who is appointed over them? The angels, not the Holy One, blessed be He. "All her friends have dealt treacherously with her" - the angels closed all the gates to us, and nothing remained for us except to approach the only open gate, the gates of tears. Therefore, "she weeps bitterly in the night."
The Midrash says regarding "she weeps bitterly in the night": Israel would weep at night, and Yirmiyahu would weep by day. And where do we see this? In Yirmiyahu chapter 20: "Cursed be the day wherein I was born; let not the day wherein my mother bore me be blessed" - similar to what Iyov said, "Perish the day on which I was born, and the night that said, 'A man-child is conceived.'" Yirmiyahu wept the weeping of day. And regarding the Holy One, blessed be He, the Midrash says that He weeps by day and by night, as it is stated, "And I will weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people."
In the book Devar HaMalkah, this is explained homiletically with a clever insight. Israel wept at night - that is, they wept over the material, physical loss: we had houses, fields, vineyards, and every good thing, and now we are in exile and have nothing. By contrast, Yirmiyahu foresaw that there would be a time when the Jewish people would prosper in exile, and that this prosperity would cause them to stray from the path of Torah.
And as we noted: in all the countries where the Jewish people attained emancipation, equal rights - they quickly strayed from the path. In Eastern lands, where we were always downtrodden and afflicted under the nations, it was relatively quieter. There too life was hardly sweet - there was the Exile of Mawza, there were persecutions - but in far lower doses than in places where our situation had been good and pleasant.
And this is what Yirmiyahu tells them: You weep over the material reality you lost, while I weep over the reality if things will be good for you. They weep over the night, over the darkness; I am troubled if there will be light - if things will be good for you, that troubles me even more, because through that you will turn away completely from Hashem and assimilate. Therefore the Midrash says that Yirmiyahu wept by day.
And about this King David prays: "He made them objects of compassion before all their captors," and immediately - "Save us, Hashem our God, and gather us and deliver us from the nations." When do we truly need salvation? Precisely when we find compassion at the hands of our captors. That is already not good: we begin to feel comfortable in exile, we settle down there, and that is dangerous. Therefore King David asks: Master of the World, save us, gather us, rescue us from the nations, because we have reached a state where the exile has become pleasant to us, and that is a very bad situation.
To what can this be compared? To a man who rebelled against the king and was kept in a dungeon for many long years. He pleaded with anyone who could to speak to the king's heart to release him from there. One day he hears the king's ministers coming and opening the door to his cell - a glimmer of hope: perhaps they have come to take me out, perhaps all my pleas have helped. And here they enter with a measuring tape, measuring the wall this way and that. He asked them: What are you doing? They said to him: The king sent us to put in a window for you here, to arrange more comfortable conditions for you; he heard all your weeping and he wants to look after you. Hearing this, the man sat on the ground and began to weep bitterly. They asked him: Until now you were in a dungeon, look at what we are doing for you! He told them: You do not understand. If the king is arranging comfortable conditions for me here, it means I will be sitting here for many more years. If he installs air conditioning for me - it is a sign that I have a long time left here. But if the situation remains terrible, I know that any moment now I will be redeemed and leave here. And if I see that things are starting to be good for me here - on the contrary, that troubles me all the more.
This is what David means: "He made them objects of compassion before all their captors" - and therefore we ask, "Save us, Hashem our God, and gather us and deliver us from the nations." For in such a state, when we find compassion in their eyes, we are in real trouble. They open windows for us, arrange air conditioning for us - who knows how much longer this exile will continue.
And of the Holy One, blessed be He, it is said that He weeps by day and by night. On the one hand He weeps at night, for when a Jew suffers, the Shechinah says, "My head is heavy, My arm is heavy" - as it were, my head hurts, my arm hurts, "I am with him in distress"; as it were, He cannot bear to see our suffering, and He has great sorrow from it. On the other hand, when things are good for us, that too is painful for Him to see, because then "Yeshurun grew fat and kicked." Israel weeps at night, over the troubles and material hardships; Yirmiyahu weeps by day, over the prospect that things will be good for us and we will then forget Hashem; and the Holy One, blessed be He, says: Woe is Me from this, and woe is Me from that. I am in great sorrow when you are in sorrow, and on the other hand I want to give you good - but I am in great sorrow over the day as well, because through prosperity you quickly stray from the path.
The prophet here describes the great calamity that befell the Jewish people, and let us note a theme that recurs throughout the book: the prophet describes how from the sole of the foot to the head there is no sound spot. When people want to say that someone is in mourning and grief, they say that the grief and mourning envelop him entirely - that is, this is not a localized pain, but a pain from bottom to top.
The sefer Gishmei Berachah points out that when you follow the expressions throughout the book, you see that Yirmiyahu describes the magnitude of the pain as gripping the entire body: "and her tear is on her cheek," "From on high He sent fire into my bones," "He spread a net for my feet," "they were entwined, they came upon my neck," "my eye, my eye runs down with water," "Tzion spread out her hands," "See, Hashem, for I am in distress, my innards churn," "my heart turns over within me," "The elders of the daughter of Tzion cast dust upon their heads," "the maidens of Jerusalem bowed their heads to the ground," "my liver is poured out to the earth," "they clapped their hands at you," "He wore away my flesh and my skin," "He brought into my reins the arrows of His quiver," "He broke my teeth with gravel," "Let him put his mouth in the dust," "The tongue of the nursing infant clings to its palate."
This is a pain that envelops everything: from the feet to the head, including the skin, the bones, the mouth, the kidneys - everything. To tell you that this is not a localized injury that will heal, like someone who injured a finger, but an affliction encompassing everything, where from the sole of the foot to the head there is no sound spot. All of the limbs together share in the lament over the destruction of Jerusalem.
In its plain sense, this lamentation is said after the Destruction, and if so, it is difficult: Why does it say "she weeps bitterly" (bacho tivkeh) in the future tense? The first verse, "How does the city sit solitary, that was full of people," describes in the past tense what the prophet sees after the Destruction - so why does he suddenly switch to speaking of something in the future? It should have said "she wept in the night." Furthermore, "and her tear is on her cheek" is unclear: anyone who weeps has their tear on their cheek - what is there to emphasize here?
Rabbi Yosef Taitatzak, in his work Lechem Setarim, explains that the verse hints to the fact that the Jewish people were unwilling to accept rebuke. The Holy One, blessed be He, sent them prophets early and late, yet they refused to listen. The beginning of the verse refers to the final days before the destruction, when Yirmiyahu went about rebuking and speaking with the people, trying to persuade them to repent. He said to them: Know that "she weeps bitterly in the night" - repent now, for if you do not, you are destined to weep; you will endure a night of tears.
"Arise, cry out in the night" - Chazal teach that night symbolizes exile. In exile, one must "arise, cry out in the night" to mourn the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash. That is why Tikkun Chatzot is recited specifically at night, because night alludes to exile, and our sources teach that the pain of the Shechinah is reawakened most intensely then, during the quality of night. Regarding this, the prophet tells them: "She weeps bitterly in the night" - you are destined to weep a great weeping in exile.
Yet this did not help. Not only did they fail to repent, but even after Nevuchadnetzar arrived and they saw the prophecy beginning to materialize - seeing with their very own eyes everything that had been told to them - what would a person naturally do? Say: Look, this is what Yirmiyahu spoke of; I see the words coming true. Let us change, let us repent, let us mend our ways! And yet we see that even this did not help.
And this is the meaning of "and her tears are on her cheek." This expression means that the tears have not yet dried on her face; the tears have just fallen, they are fresh, and the tear has not even slipped from the cheek yet. In other words: the destruction is already beginning, this is the start of the weeping, you can still repent, you are still only at the beginning! And nonetheless, even as "her tears are on her cheek," they went into exile without repenting and without regretting their deeds. When did they truly weep? By the rivers of Babylon - "there we sat down, yea, we wept"; it was there that they remembered to weep in repentance. But prior to that, it was not a cry of repentance, only "her tears are on her cheek" from suffering and pain. The tears are still moist, yet they still do not repent; they remain entrenched in their rebellion.
In the Book of Yirmiyahu, chapter 44, it relates: "Then all the men who knew that their wives burned incense to other gods, and all the women who stood by, a great multitude, and all the people dwelling in the land of Egypt, in Pathros, answered Yirmiyahu, saying..." This was already after the exile, after they had been driven to Pathros in Egypt, and Yirmiyahu was trying to convince them to cease worshiping idols. But they replied to him: "As for the word that you have spoken to us in the name of Hashem, we will not listen to you. But we will certainly do whatever has gone forth out of our mouth, to burn incense to the queen of heaven and to pour out libations to her... as we have done, we and our fathers, our kings and our princes, in the cities of Yehudah and in the streets of Yerushalayim; for then we had plenty of bread, and were well off, and saw no evil." In other words: during the entire era when we worshiped idols, everything was wonderful; there were no problems, our livelihood was plentiful, everything was fine, and we will not listen to you to abandon idolatry. "And since we ceased to burn incense to the queen of heaven and to pour out libations to her, we have lacked all things, and have been consumed by the sword and by famine" - since we left idol worship, our troubles began.
And who were these forces in which they placed their trust? The "queen of heaven" - they would worship the stars and constellations, the sun and the moon, preparing sacrificial offerings and performing rituals for those heavenly bodies. The reason: they expected to receive abundance from them. When someone worships a constellation, he is convinced that it will channel goodness to him and fulfill his every desire. But what did it avail them? "All her friends have dealt treacherously with her" - that very host of heaven in which they trusted and which they served betrayed her.
As Rashi quotes in the name of the Midrash, Midrash Aggadah on Eicha states regarding "all her friends have dealt treacherously with her": "These are the celestial ministers whom He exchanged - He appointed the minister of fire over water, and swapped all the appointed angels." Why? Because among the wicked of Israel were masters of the Ineffable Name, and they trusted that they could adjure the supernal ministers to save them from fire, water, and the sword. But now, when they adjured the minister of fire by his name, he would reply: "This domain is no longer in my hands," and so it was with all of them.
There were people who knew how to focus mystical intentions and pronounce adjurations, and they would say: Do not worry, we will manage. We will adjure the angel of fire, and he will immediately incinerate Nevuchadnetzar and all his armies; we will adjure the angel of water, and a tidal wave will sweep over them to drown them. Do not worry, we possess all the codes. Yet when they came to activate them, it suddenly became clear that the codes had been changed! Nothing worked; nothing responded. One calls upon the minister of fire, and he answers: It is not in my power; that authority is no longer mine. Thus they discovered that those very forces into which they had poured their entire lives, with their worship and libations, gave no response and could offer them no help.
And not only that, but "they have become her enemies." For the moment they summoned Michael, Gabriel arrived in his stead - Gabriel being the minister of fire - and consumed them in flames. It turned out that instead of summoning the intended minister, they summoned a different one, and that other minister actually punished them. Instead of bestowing abundance and goodness upon them, they not only betrayed her, but acted against her and executed retribution upon them.
"She weeps bitterly in the night" - the prophet warns them in the future tense: you will yet weep in the night, so you had best repent. "And her tears are on her cheek" - even when the tears are still fresh upon the cheeks, they still have not repented. "She has none to comfort her of all her lovers" - even after being driven into exile they find no comfort, and she clings to her lovers, to those very forms of idol worship. "All her friends have dealt treacherously with her" - those idols and celestial forces that they failed to invoke. And not only that, but "they have become her enemies" - they even acted against her and punished her.
A single verse, "She weeps bitterly in the night," opens up for us the full depth of the lamentation: a night when the voice carries far and sorrow awakens, a night that is also an allusion to the prolonged exile; weeping that triggers further weeping, because the Beit HaMikdash did not die but departed, never to be forgotten from the heart; weeping that takes the place of the altar and the sacrifices that atoned for us; and weeping that is the final gate remaining open, of which the Holy One, Blessed is He, is Himself the gatekeeper. And on the other hand - the rebuke: the tear is still upon the cheek, yet they do not repent; the lovers and companions they trusted in, whether the celestial forces or idolatry, not only betrayed them but became their enemies. And Yirmiyahu teaches us that weeping over the night is not all: there is also weeping over the day, over the prosperity in exile that causes Hashem to be forgotten. And the Holy One, Blessed is He, weeps over both - "And I will weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people."