At the heart of the first chapter of Megillat Eicha, the Congregation of Israel stands and turns outward, to the nations, to those passing along the road. Until now, the Megillah has described the destruction from within: the city sitting in solitude, the mourning roads, the princes fleeing without strength. Now Jerusalem raises her voice and asks one thing of the world: to look. Not to pity from afar, but to look and to see. This verse, verse 12, is one of the most expounded verses in the Megillah, and we will present a series of interpretations on it.
לוֹא אֲלֵיכֶם כׇּל עֹבְרֵי דֶרֶךְ, הַבִּיטוּ וּרְאוּ אִם יֵשׁ מַכְאוֹב כְּמַכְאֹבִי אֲשֶׁר עוֹלַל לִי, אֲשֶׁר הוֹגָה ה' בְּיוֹם חֲרוֹן אַפּוֹ. - May it not befall you, all you who pass along the way! Look and see if there is any pain like my pain which has been dealt to me, which Hashem inflicted on the day of His fierce wrath.
The Even Sho'ev explains: Jerusalem turns to the passersby and prefaces her words by stating that there is no jealousy in her heart toward their tranquility. Do not think that out of jealousy over your peacefulness I wish such a thing upon you. "May it not befall you" - Heaven forbid that I should wish upon you what I have endured, nor do I hope that my troubles cling to you. My request is only one: look, reflect - is there any pain like my pain? Is there any other nation in the world that has suffered as I have suffered?
And the conclusion of the verse, "which Hashem inflicted on the day of His fierce wrath," adds further to this. With mortal flesh and blood, a person conceives a thought or plan but cannot carry it all out into action; sometimes only a portion of it is ultimately realized. Not so with the Holy One, Blessed be He: what He conceived, He executed. What He planned, He brought to fruition in its entirety. Therefore: is there any pain like my pain?
In the sefer Alon Bachut, he explains: "May it not befall you" - afflictions of this nature do not apply to you at all. There is an essential difference between your blows and ours. The blows that the Holy One, Blessed be He, brings upon the nations are intended to break their arrogance, to shatter their sense of might. But the blows Hashem gives us are designed to build us. The destruction that the Holy One, Blessed be He, brings upon us comes in order to save us, to preserve us; it is a punishment intended for our ultimate good in the future, to exact payment and to refine us. Thus, the verse even contains a kind of praise: our afflictions are of a higher, more purposeful nature than the afflictions Hashem gives you.
The Akeidat Yitzchak explains differently: "All who pass along the way" refers to all those among you who deviated from the straight path and did not conduct themselves properly. To them Jerusalem says: you did not receive punishment like ours; what happened to us did not happen to you. And why? "Which Hashem inflicted on the day of His fierce wrath" - the Holy One, Blessed be He, punished us on a specific day, a day predestined for wrath from time immemorial, namely Tisha B'Av, which is designated for tragedy. When punishment comes on a day of fierce wrath, the anger is far greater and the attribute of strict justice governs at a much higher intensity. Similarly, Jeremiah said: "Deal with them in the time of Your anger" - when Hashem acts in the time of His anger, the punishment is incomparably greater.
Rav Chayun explains that the Congregation of Israel weeps and calls upon the nations to come and see her distress. However, to truly see, it is not enough for someone merely to pass by and glance. True contemplation requires coming and examining the situation thoroughly, understanding what our standing was previously and what our standing is today. Therefore she says: "Not to you, all who pass along the way" - it is not to you that I turn. You are merely transient passersby, who glance, marvel, and move on, unable to delve deeply and comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy. My appeal is to whoever is willing to pause, study, and truly reflect.
And what was the magnitude of the disaster? In every war, refugees remain. Even in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, after the atomic bomb, survivors remained. But here: not a single survivor or remnant remained on the day of the Lord's burning wrath. "Her gates have sunk into the ground," "Raze it, raze it, to its very foundation!" - the enemies were not content with mere conquest; they sought to destroy the city down to its foundations. And this is the meaning of "which was wrought upon me" [asher olal li]: that the Holy One, blessed be He, stripped even the gleanings [olelot], even the small, undeveloped grapes that were left behind. Although the Torah forbade picking the gleanings, here even they were taken away.
The Alshich explains: You have not tasted the bitterness of my suffering, and you cannot feel what I feel. I do not expect you to, nor is there any possibility of it. But I have one request: "Look and see." A mere glance is enough to see that there is no pain like my pain; a single look is enough to understand that no nation has ever suffered as we have suffered.
Our Sages expound upon the verse, "Because of Your hand, I sat alone": The Congregation of Israel said, Pharaoh's hand touched me and I did not sit alone, but when Your hand touched me - I sat alone. Seemingly, this is baffling: was not the plague of Pharaoh also the hand of Hashem? Rather, the meaning is this: Had we not received the Torah, had we not become the nation of Hashem, we would not sit alone. We would be exiled, yes, but we would assimilate into the nation to which we were exiled, intermarrying with them, eating and drinking with them, and bonding with them. But the Torah forbids this to us: it does not permit us to eat and drink with the nations or intermarry with them. Thus it emerges that "because of Your hand" - the hand from which came "from His right hand, a fiery law for them" - "I sat alone." In Pharaoh's time, we had not yet received the Torah, so we could integrate among the nations; once we received the Torah, I sat alone, and the gentile pushes me away even further, seeing that I do not try to assimilate among them, but always remain distinct.
According to this, the verse is interpreted: "May it not befall you, all who pass along the way" - what has happened to me will not harm you, for even if you go into exile, it is not so terrible. You do not have a unique religion, nor do you have laws that separate you from the other nations. Therefore, even if calamity befalls you, it will not be a pain like my pain. Pharaoh's strike was not as severe, but when the enemies' hand strikes me now and I am forced to remain separate from the nations - this is a far harsher affliction and blow, for when the gentile sees that I remain separate from him, he strikes even harder.
The Binyan David asks: How can "May it not befall you" be reconciled with the end of the chapter, "Let all their wickedness come before You, and deal with them as You have dealt with me"? Here you pray that it should not come upon them, yet there you pray that it should! A simple answer is that here the text refers to passersby, who did not torment us, whereas at the end of the chapter it speaks of those who actively oppressed us, concerning whom we pray that Hashem exact retribution.
However, he offers a different explanation: The lamenter says that although calamity may strike you as well, what happened to me will never happen to you. And why? Because you were never accustomed to closeness to Hashem. The essence of my calamity is the distance from the Holy One, blessed be He, and over this the Congregation of Israel laments above all else, for once the Beit HaMikdash was destroyed, an iron barrier was erected between us and the Master of the World. Any trouble that befalls you exists on only one level, the physical level; with us, the tragedy exists also on a spiritual level, distance from Hashem. Therefore, you can never experience such an affliction. And even when we pray for calamity to strike the nations, "deal with them as You have dealt with me," it can never truly be like mine: I once had closeness to God and lost it, whereas you never had it, so your punishment will always be considered minor compared to ours.
And this is what Chazal said: "'Comfort, comfort My people' - they sinned double, were stricken double, and are comforted double, as it is stated, 'For she has received from the hand of Hashem double for all her sins.'" Where did they sin double? "Jerusalem has grievously sinned [chet chata’ah]" - a double expression. And what does it mean that they sinned double? That beyond the sin itself, we also clung to corrupt character traits. And what does it mean that they were stricken double? That beyond the punishment itself, the Shechinah departed from us, the closeness to God departed. And what will be the double consolation? Beyond salvation itself - "I will pour out My spirit upon all flesh," we will merit closeness to God. That is what we yearn for.
We have seen that hogah is an expression of thought and speech. But we can also suggest explaining it in the sense of hogah min hamesilah - removed from the highway. According to this, Keneset Yisrael says to the nations: Do you know what the essence of the suffering inflicted upon me is? "Which the Lord has removed" - that Hashem was removed from us on the day of His fierce wrath. Divine providence was taken from us, and the resting of the Shechinah, which had dwelt permanently in our midst, was withdrawn. That is the greatest hardship of all.
And so the Targum explains: "May what has come upon me not come upon you, and may what has reached me not reach you." Since you never possessed all the greatness that I had, even if troubles befall you, they will never be on the same scale. For one who never had much, when something is taken from him, not much is lost. But we had so much - closeness to God - and when the Holy One, blessed be He, rebuked us, He took away our most precious possession: the resting of the Shechinah in our midst. You never had this, and consequently it could never be taken from you. Therefore, "May it not befall you, all you who pass by" - you will never have pain like my pain, for our suffering will always be far greater.
The Lechem Dimah makes a precise observation about the end of the verse: the Tetragrammaton represents the attribute of mercy. It is well known that the greatest pain occurs when a person receives a slap from his beloved. If an enemy strikes, one is already prepared and expecting it, expecting nothing good from him, and is not surprised. But here, "which the Lord inflicted on the day of His fierce wrath" - from whom did we receive this? From the One who loves us. Moreover, Hashem did not suffice with what He conceived and spoke, but brought it into actual fruition. And that makes the suffering immeasurably greater.
One can also explain: it is the way of the Holy One, blessed be He, to awaken the Jewish people through blows He brings upon the nations, as it is written: "I have cut off nations, their towers are desolate... I said: Surely you will fear Me, you will accept correction." Hashem strikes the nations to awaken us and teach us a lesson in mussar. And this is what Keneset Yisrael says to the nations: until now it was so, but from now on, "May it not come to you, all who pass along the way" - the blows destined for us will no longer fall upon you; they will reach their direct address and strike us immediately. "Look and see" what Hashem has done to me; from now on, the Holy One, blessed be He, has begun to deliver the blows upon us directly, and they no longer come upon you as a lesson of rebuke for us.
From here stems a linguistic nuance: when someone wishes to express that a misfortune should not befall another, many today say "lo aleichem" (using the preposition al, "upon"). Yet grammarians are precise and say "lo eleichem" (using el, "to"), based on the wording of the verse: that this trouble should not come to you. Not from the word al, but from el.
Let us return and pose the two questions regarding the verse. First: How can Keneset Yisrael say, "May it not befall you," wishing that they not receive a punishment like hers, when at the end of the chapter we find the exact opposite: "Let all their wickedness come before You, and deal with them as You have dealt with me"? To be sure, according to the plain meaning of the text, one could resolve this by saying that the plea "deal with them" is directed at enemies, whereas "not to you" is addressed to passersby who merely traversed the area and are not enemies. Yet we seek further explanation. And second: Why does it say "eleichem" (to you)? If one wishes to say that evil should not come upon you, it should have said "aleichem" with an ayin ("upon you"), for the standard idiom is "may what came upon me not come upon you." What is the meaning of "eleichem"?
The book Palgei Mayim explains the matter based on Shirat Ha'azinu: "Were they wise, they would understand this, they would discern their end. How could one chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight, unless their Rock had sold them, and the Lord had delivered them up?" The nations are convinced that if they succeeded, their god succeeded, and that the God of Israel is, so to speak, powerless. But had they been wise and discerning, they would have arrived at the realization from reality itself that they are mistaken. Their error lies in thinking they overcame us through their own might, their gods, or their advanced weaponry. That is not the case: they could overcome us for one reason alone - "for their Rock sold them, and the Lord delivered them up." The Holy One, blessed be He, sold us into their hand, just as it says, "And He sold them into the hand of Sisera."
And how can this be discerned? "How could one pursue a thousand" - do you not see that something supernatural is at play here? How is it possible that a seventeen-year-old boy holding a weapon could command thousands of Jews and lead them? How could one pursue a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight? There are those today who criticize what took place; but one who did not know the reality and did not live there, what right has he to criticize? We have a much simpler answer: "Were it not that their Rock had sold them, and Hashem had delivered them up." When the Holy One, blessed be He, delivers a person into the hands of his enemies, even the sound of a driven leaf puts him to flight. Had the gentile reflected even a little, he would have understood that it was not by his strength nor by his might, but that the Holy One, blessed be He, delivered them into his hand, and had it not been so, he would never have succeeded.
According to this, the prophet says to the enemies: "May it not come upon you, all who pass along the way" - you who passed through us, who came and subdued us and exacted vengeance from us, do not be mistaken: the evil that has befallen me is not because of you. You are not the cause of all these troubles. Do not conclude, "Our hand is high," "our power and might," or "our god was able to overcome them." And how do you know that it does not stem from you? "Look and see if there is any pain like my pain" - is our punishment natural? Do you not see that it is unnatural?
And indeed, there are many proofs of this. It is written that when the enemy besieged Jerusalem, one of them hung his cloak high up on the wall, and after some time he found the cloak on the ground, realizing that the walls were sinking daily. It is written that before the Destruction, the doors of the Heichal would open on their own, as if saying: let the nations come, let the enemies come and enter Jerusalem. The meaning of this is - "and Hashem delivered them up." It is written that Hadrian shot arrows in all directions, and all the arrows reached Jerusalem. And it is written that a journey meant to take a month was traversed in five days, "Our pursuers were swifter than eagles of the heavens." Open your eyes and see that this is not natural. Could such a punishment occur by the laws of nature? It is none other than "which was inflicted upon me, with which Hashem has afflicted [me]."
And since this did not come about because of you, why should you boast, and why should you pride yourselves on your might? Had you reflected, you would have seen that "their Rock had sold them, and Hashem had delivered them up," and you would have had some humility. Note how he refers to the enemies: "passers along the way." Meaning, do not think that you subdued us; you are merely like someone who happened to pass by along the way, and the Holy One, blessed be He, needed to humble us in some manner, and sought someone into whose hands to deliver us - and delivered us into your hand. "Not to you" - this did not come from you, nor from your power. And within this recognition lies an acknowledgment of the gravity of our sin and our corruption, and through this itself an opening of repentance before Hashem, may He be blessed, is unlocked for us.
And regarding the pain about which it was said to the nations that they should reflect upon it - we have already shown in the past many examples of terrible things that occurred in Jerusalem, the likes of which were never heard of concerning any other nation. We have not heard concerning any other nation a description such as "women eating their offspring, their infants," "shall women eat their fruit, infants cared for." Concerning other nations we have not heard of such troubles, whereas regarding Jerusalem we have not one and not two stories of such a harsh and dreadful reality. This is "if there is any pain like my pain."
And one can note a precision in the verse: makh'ov (מַכְאוֹב) is written full, with a vav, while kemakh'ovi (כְּמַכְאֹבִי) is written deficient, without it. The sefer Gishmei Berachah states a wonderful idea regarding this. It is a general principle that full spelling indicates completeness, while deficient spelling indicates a lack. The Nesi'im (princes) who brought their offering last - a letter was missing from their name, a yud was omitted from them because they did not exert themselves (and nesi'im also means clouds of glory). Ephron was stingy - a letter was missing from his name; he is not written as "Ephron" fully, but deficient without a vav, "and knows not that want shall come upon him." Wherever something is written defectively, it comes to indicate a blemish and a lack, and whatever is written full indicates fullness.
According to this: "If there is any pain [makh'ov]" - the general pain in the world is written full; "like my pain [kemakh'ovi]" - my personal pain is written deficient. And the meaning is: search for the fullest pain, the greatest pain, among all the pains you know - it does not even reach my deficient pain. My "small" pain is far greater than the greatest pain you see anywhere. Is there any great "pain" that can compare to my small "pain"? In this way, the verse expresses the magnitude of the grief and the depth of the pain.
"May it not come upon you, all who pass along the way" is a verse that is simultaneously an outward address and an inward reflection. Outwardly: I do not wish my pain upon you, nor could you even attain it - for our blows are blows of rebuilding, and our pain is the pain of distance from Hashem, something you never had and will never be stripped of. And toward the enemy: do not attribute your victory to your own might, for "their Rock had sold them, and Hashem had delivered them up," and you are merely a passerby into whose hands the Holy One, blessed be He, delivered us. And from here emerges an opening for repentance: the recognition that everything is from His hand, blessed be He, the acknowledgment of the gravity of the sin, and the anticipation of the double consolation - not only physical salvation, but the restoration of closeness to God: "I will pour out My spirit upon man."