Chapter 3 of Eicha opens with the lament of the "man" who has seen affliction. In it, the lamenter traces the stages of decline and deterioration that befell the Jewish people step by step, from the very beginning until the final blow. We will begin specifically from the verse where this entire process culminates, "My soul was stripped of peace," and from there trace back to see how the Malbim unpacks the entire chain of downfall according to the order of the verses.
Yoshiyahu was a righteous king, and Scripture states that no one arose like him after him. The Jewish people pinned their hopes on him, saying, "The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of Hashem, of whom we said: in his shadow we shall live among the nations" - they anticipated that he would be the one to redeem them. Yet Yoshiyahu went out to block Pharaoh Necho from marching through his land, confident that the entire nation was righteous. In truth, he was mistaken in this - as we have already explained, they had idols hidden behind their doors. Consequently, he fell at the hands of Pharaoh Necho. After him reigned Yehoachaz, and in his days the misfortune began to unfold, just as the prophetess Chuldah had prophesied in advance, foreseeing the calamity that would come through Pharaoh Necho. And it is written: "Pharaoh Necho imprisoned him at Rivlah in the land of Chamat from reigning in Jerusalem... and brought him to Egypt, and he died there" - this was the beginning of the downfall.
אוֹתִי נָהַג וַיֹּלַךְ חֹשֶׁךְ וְלֹא־אוֹר׃ - He has driven me and led me into darkness, and not light.
This is the first stage: "He drove me" - they took us from here, from Eretz Yisrael, into exile, to a place of darkness and not light.
אַךְ בִּי יָשֻׁב יַהֲפֹךְ יָדוֹ כׇּל־הַיּוֹם׃ - Surely against me He turns His hand repeatedly all the day.
After Yehoachaz, the king of Egypt appointed another king - Yehoyakim. And he, too, had no rest: in his time, the king of Babylon arrived, "and bound him in copper fetters to carry him to Babylon." This is "Surely against me He turns" - another blow, another exile. And why does it say "He turns His hand all the day"? Because the exile was not yet complete and absolute. When a person finishes his work, he rests his hands; when he turns his hands back and forth, it indicates that he is still in the middle of his work.
בִּלָּה בְשָׂרִי וְעוֹרִי שִׁבַּר עַצְמוֹתָי׃ - He has worn away my flesh and my skin; He has broken my bones.
This corresponds to what came afterward in the days of Yehoyachin son of Elyakim, whom Nevuchadnetzar exiled, as it is written: "And Nevuchadnetzar king of Babylon came against the city while his servants were besieging it, and Yehoyachin king of Yehudah went out..." It was then that they exiled the craftsmen and the smiths, leaving behind only the poorest of the people of the land. As it were, the Holy One, Blessed be He, consumed everything - the flesh, the skin, and the bones: they took away all the distinguished individuals and left behind only the lowliest. And "He has broken my bones" - the bones represent the strong and mighty among the people.
בָּנָה עָלַי וַיַּקַּף רֹאשׁ וּתְלָאָה׃ - He has built against me and surrounded me with bitterness and hardship.
The king of Babylon made Tzidkiyahu king, and built a siege against Jerusalem - this is "He has built against me and surrounded," as they surrounded Jerusalem in a siege.
בְּמַחֲשַׁכִּים הוֹשִׁיבַנִי כְּמֵתֵי עוֹלָם׃ - He has placed me in dark places like the dead of eternity.
Afterward, they captured Tzidkiyahu, who had rebelled against him, brought him up to the king of Babylon, and gouged out his eyes. "He has placed me in dark places like the dead of eternity" - when he darkened the light of Tzidkiyahu's eyes.
"Yet for all this His anger did not turn back": In the nineteenth year of Nevuchadnezzar's reign, the king of Babylon burned the Beit HaMikdash in the month of Av, whose constellation is the lion.
דֹּב אֹרֵב הוּא לִי אֲרִי בְּמִסְתָּרִים׃ - He is a bear lying in wait for me, a lion in hiding places.
When was the bear lying in wait? When it was under the constellation of the lion - in the month of Av.
דְּרָכַי סוֹרֵר וַיְפַשְּׁחֵנִי שָׂמַנִי שֹׁמֵם׃ - He has turned aside my paths and torn me apart; He has made me desolate.
"Sorer" is related to the word sirim (thorns) - meaning that he filled the city with briars in order to burn it, "He has made me desolate." And similarly in the surrounding verses: "He walled up my ways with hewn stone; He twisted my paths," "He bent His bow and set me as a target for the arrow."
הָיִיתִי שְּׂחֹק לְכׇל־עַמִּי נְגִינָתָם כׇּל־הַיּוֹם׃ - I became a laughingstock to all my people, their mocking song all day long.
After all this, he appointed Gedalyahu ben Achikam - "I became a laughingstock to all my people," for he appointed over me a leader who was not of the stature of the great leaders.
הִשְׂבִּיעַנִי בַמְּרוֹרִים הִרְוַנִי לַעֲנָה׃ - He has sated me with bitterness; He has filled me with wormwood.
This is the next stage: Gedalyahu ben Achikam was the last, and with his death came complete exile, as he was ultimately murdered by Yishmael ben Netanyah - and then there was bitterness and wormwood.
וַתִּזְנַח מִשָּׁלוֹם נַפְשִׁי נָשִׁיתִי טוֹבָה׃ - My soul was cast off from peace; I have forgotten goodness.
From whom was my soul cast off? From "shalom" - peace. Yishmael ben Netanyah appeared to Gedaliah as a man of his peace, an ally, and through the hand of this "man of peace" my soul was cast off, for he took his life. After all, they had warned Gedaliah, telling him: "He is scheming, he is lying in wait for you." Gedaliah replied: "That is lashon hara; I refuse to accept it." In the end, Yishmael ben Netanyah murdered him, and this became the final, crushing blow that severed everything for the remnants of Israel's exile.
Chazal expound the verse in an additional way. Rabbi Abbahu said: "'My soul was cast off from peace' - this refers to lighting the Shabbat candle." The meaning is that Shabbat is a unique time of rest, a special time of peace. We greet one another on Shabbat with "Shabbat Shalom," for Shabbat represents peace - a rest of peace, serenity, tranquility, and security. And since there was no longer any Shabbat candle, "my soul was cast off from peace."
"I have forgotten goodness" - what is this goodness? Rabbi Yirmeyah says: This refers to the bathhouse; when a person cannot visit the bathhouse, goodness is, as it were, forgotten by him. Rabbi Yochanan said: This refers to washing one's hands and feet with hot water. Rabbi Yitzchak Nafcha said: This refers to a handsome bed and beautiful covers upon it. Rabbi Abba said: This refers to a made bed and a wife adorned for Torah scholars. "Nashiti" means "I have forgotten" - all of this goodness has slipped entirely from my memory.
All of these are pleasures reserved especially for Shabbat: the bath, the fine bed, and the beautiful furnishings that the Sages instruct one to arrange in honor of Shabbat. The mourner recalls: see what splendor I once enjoyed here in the Land of Israel, and now I have forgotten all of it; it has completely faded from my memory.
The Rokeach of Worms explains this based on the preceding verse - "He has broken my teeth with gravel, He has made me cower in ash": I was covered in ashes, and therefore I desperately needed to wash, yet I had no bath of hot water. "Chamin" refers to the hot water used for bathing before Shabbat. When a person is in an ordinary state, even if he cannot bathe in hot water, it remains tolerable. But after "He has made me cower in ash," when one's condition is so degraded that bathing is an urgent necessity, and then "my soul was cast off from peace" - I did not even possess the means to wash my body.
The *Chut Shel Chesed* explains differently: the calamity was so severe that "I have forgotten goodness." Sometimes, when a person had it good and then misfortune strikes, he remembers with longing - "I remember days of old" - reflecting on the wonderful times he experienced. But here, because the situation was so excruciating, goodness was forgotten from the heart entirely. We find this similarly with Yosef: "And the abundance shall not be known" - no one remembered that there had ever been abundance; it felt as though it had happened ages ago. So too here: the suffering was so terrible that nobody even remembered that there had ever been a good time.
וָאֹמַר אָבַד נִצְחִי וְתוֹחַלְתִּי מֵה'׃ - And I said: Lost is my endurance and my hope from Hashem.
Why is my endurance lost? Because it is "from Hashem" - from the four-letter Name that signifies Mercy. As long as it is the Attribute of Justice bringing punishments upon me, I can turn to the Attribute of Mercy, entreating the Holy One, blessed be He, to bestow His compassion, spare me, and annul the harsh decree. But if the punishment comes upon me from the power of the Attribute of Mercy itself, what can I hope for? To whom can I pray?
To what can this be compared? To a person who, Heaven forbid, was diagnosed with a tumor, and surgery was quickly arranged with one of the finest surgeons to remove it safely and without harm. Before the surgery, this person takes a Tehillim and prays that Hashem save him from having to undergo the operation. Fool! You should pray that the surgery succeeds and that you emerge healthy and whole. If you are "saved" from the surgery, who knows what will happen to your body? This is what the mourner is saying: since what is happening to me now stems from the Attribute of Mercy, an act of loving-kindness from Hashem - for what the Holy One, blessed be He, did by exhausting His fury on wood and stone was in order that the Jewish people would survive; it was a surgery intended to preserve Am Yisrael - consequently, "lost is my endurance and my hope," as there is no room to pray. What should I pray for, that the surgery be canceled? The surgery itself is for my own good, so praying for the decree to be revoked is, as it were, completely out of place.
The verse also hints, as the Chut Shel Chesed explains, that sometimes when one reaches a dire state, there are situations from which there is nowhere to go but up. A story is told of a man who was very wealthy, continuously acquiring more and more property. One day, someone came to bring him the news that he had won a bid on a magnificent property that everyone had coveted - yet when he told him this, he saw no joy on his face; instead, he saw that he began to weep.
Time passed, and the man's business dealings gradually deteriorated until he became destitute, completely bankrupt and reduced to begging, barely having the shirt on his back. One day he wanted to bathe, and having no bathhouse, he went down to the river. He folded his clothes by the riverbank and stepped into the water. When he came out, he discovered that someone had stolen his clothes - he did not even have clothing left. He climbed up a tree to hide, and just then, that same friend who had been in business with him - the one who had informed him about the property and seen him cry - happened to pass by. He saw him up in the tree dancing, joyful, and laughing. He asked him, "Why are you so cheerful?" He replied, "My clothes were stolen." "Then why are you so happy?" He told him, "First get me some clothes, and then we will talk."
The friend went, obtained clothes for him, dressed him, and helped him down from the tree. He said, "Now tell me, I truly want to understand. Back then, when you were told that you won the property everyone aspired to, you wept. And now I see you laughing?" He answered him, "That is precisely the point. Back then, my aspiration was to acquire that prestigious property, and whoever owned it was considered at the very top, the highest level achievable. When I acquired it, I realized that this was the highest possible point, and from here one can only go down - there are no more levels to climb, nowhere further to advance, and that is why I wept. But now, when I am left literally naked and utterly destitute, with not even a garment to cover my skin - this is the lowest state one can possibly reach, and from here one can only go up. That is why you saw me rejoicing."
This is what the verse comes to tell us: "My strength has perished" - when I see that I am in the lowest possible state, then "and my hope from Hashem" - that is the time to hope to the Holy One, Blessed be He. Have you lost everything? Now begin to pray, because from here one can only climb and rise. And this is what is written, "Hope for peace, and there is no good; for a time of healing, and behold, terror!" The prophet says to the Jewish people: Hope for peace. They say to him: What are you talking about, "and there is no good"? What should we hope for, what will it accomplish? We see no sign that anything is about to turn around for the better. He said to them: On the contrary, "for a time of healing" - when the Holy One, Blessed be He, is about to bring healing, what comes first? "And behold, terror!" When you see that you are in terror, in an extremely degraded state - prepare yourself, healing is about to arrive. Do not think that because there is no good there is no point in hoping; on the contrary, from such a low state, one can only climb and ascend.
Another explanation of the verse: Am Yisrael says, "My eternity has perished" - what are our chances of being saved, what are the chances of escaping this terrible situation we are in? In such a state, a person falls into despair. Will I truly endure forever? After all, the prophets promised us that the Jewish people would never cease from being a nation before Him all the days, and "Yet even so, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not reject them, nor will I abhor them, to destroy them utterly, to break My covenant with them" - we have a covenant with the Holy One, Blessed be He, that the Jewish people will never be destroyed. But when Am Yisrael sees all the troubles, they say: Will the words of prophecy truly be fulfilled? "My eternity has perished" - the eternity promised to me is lost; it does not seem that this prophecy can still be realized. Through this, one despairs of salvation. Nonetheless, in the end, they remain confident that the prophecies will be fulfilled - and what they relied upon, and how specifically from within the troubles they understood that we have reason to anticipate redemption, is what we will see in the coming verses.
In the book Elon Bachut, "My soul was cast off from peace" is explained in another way: Why was the Second Temple destroyed? Because of baseless hatred. And since there was baseless hatred - "My soul was cast off from peace" - we abandoned peace, and therefore reached the state of "My eternity and my hope from Hashem have perished." In the First Temple era there was idolatry, immorality, and bloodshed - grave sins indeed. Yet the Gemara says: Come and see that their situation was less severe than ours, for "the Sanctuary returned to the first, but did not return to the latter." The First Temple was destroyed for seventy years, and afterward the Temple was rebuilt. In contrast, now that there is baseless hatred, we do not know when the end will come. No deadline was given to us; no specific date was set by which the redemption must arrive. Certainly, by the end of the sixth millennium we will have reached the finish line, but we are not told when the end will be before the world's time runs out. This is "My soul was cast off from peace" - we neglected peace among ourselves; there was no peace within us, only internal strife. Consequently, "my eternity and my hope from Hashem have perished" - the end has not been revealed. For as long as there is no peace between us, as long as this Satan dances among us, the chances that the redemption will come and that Hashem will take us out of exile are far slimmer.
זְכׇר־עׇנְיִי וּמְרוּדִי לַעֲנָה וָרֹאשׁ׃ - Remember my affliction and my misery, wormwood and gall.
The Lechem Dim'ah explains: Merely when we remember the troubles, I feel wormwood and gall, and my flesh creeps with dread. According to this, zechor here is not an imperative (as in "remember and do not forget"), but an infinitive or gerund - referring to the act of remembering, like a noun. That is: at the time of remembering my affliction and my misery, when I recall the troubles I am in, it is as though I am being fed wormwood and gall. Wormwood and gall are poisonous, bitter, and harsh substances - every time I look at my situation, it is as if I have eaten wormwood and gall.
זָכוֹר תִּזְכּוֹר וְתָשׁוֹחַ עָלַי נַפְשִׁי׃ - You will surely remember, and my soul is bowed down within me.
Rashi explains that Knesset Yisrael says: I am certain that "You will surely remember" - I am certain that You, Master of the Universe, see our situation and remember our afflictions, and I know that You will remember everything that happens to us. But until You remember - "my soul is bowed down within me." And how is remembering expressed by the Holy One, Blessed be He? When He comes to exact retribution from the nations: "I remember what they did to you," and I exact retribution from them. As long as the Holy One, Blessed be He, does not exact retribution, it is as though He does not remember - and of course, this does not literally apply to the Holy One, Blessed be He, but rather His remembering is manifested at the time of retribution. Therefore we say: Master of the Universe, I am certain You will remember, I am certain You will exact retribution from our enemies, I have no doubt about this. But until then - what is left of my soul? "My soul is bowed down within me," my soul is low and downtrodden, in a sunken state of sorrow and dejection, until that stage when the Master of the Universe "will surely remember."
In the sefer Kol Yaakov, there is a wonderful explanation of these verses based on the words of the wise king in Kohelet: "There is no remembrance of earlier things, and also of later things that will be, there will be no remembrance among those that will be later." On the surface, this phrasing seems unnecessarily prolonged - what was King Solomon coming to say? The Kol Yaakov explains: whenever the Torah commands us to remember something, one must always examine what purpose it serves, what is the goal of this remembrance, and what we gain by remembering. When the Torah tells us to remember the Exodus from Egypt, one might say that the Holy One, Blessed be He, wants us to remember the kindness He performed for us - but what does He gain from our remembering that kindness? It is far more plausible that through this remembrance, the Holy One, Blessed be He, desires to do good for us in the end. That is to say: the remembrance is not merely about something that happened in the past; it carries practical ramifications for the future, a benefit for what is yet to come upon us.
And the Maggid of Dubno, as was his way, offers a wonderful parable for this: A person lent money to his friend, and at a certain point, the friend was able to repay part of the amount, and did so. What does the lender do? He takes out a ledger and writes it down. And what happens if the borrower comes and repays the entire sum in full? There is nothing to record - they tear up the promissory note and that is that, there is no debt, and if he were to make a claim tomorrow, there is no note and nothing left. When do we write things down? Specifically when the debt has not yet been settled, when it is still meant to continue being paid off.
Our Sages expound: "'He sated me with bitterness' - this refers to the night of Pesach; 'He drenched me with wormwood' - this refers to Tisha B'Av." We have previously discussed the connection between Tisha B'Av and Pesach and the numerous matters and homilies taught regarding it; but let us now examine this according to what we have explained. When the Holy One, Blessed be He, told Moshe, "Thus shall you say to the Children of Israel: 'Ehyeh sent me to you'" - meaning, "I am with them in this exile, and I will be with them in another exile" - Moshe said: Why should I tell them about future exiles? Why cause them pain? They will be broken by the knowledge that there will be another exile; they think that the story is over, that from now on they are in permanent redemption.
It emerges, then, that the People of Israel were confident that the exile of Egypt was the end of all exiles, and that there would never be another exile. If so, when the Holy One, Blessed be He, commanded, "Remember the Exodus from Egypt," according to their understanding, this was merely a remembrance of the past - to give thanks for what happened and was over. But once we went into the second exile, it became clear to us that the first exile in Egypt was not the last, and that more and more exiles were destined to come upon us - that we were not finished with exile. And this is what we say: "He sated me with bitterness" on the night of Pesach - why? Not merely to remember something that happened and ended, but rather in order to "drench me with wormwood," so that you will know that the exile has not ended, that there will yet be a time of Tisha B'Av, that hemlock and wormwood are yet to come. If so, the miracles of the redemption from Egypt are not merely thanksgiving to Hashem for the past, but an announcement: know that there will be harsh exiles, and the One Who redeemed you then will redeem you in the future as well. The Holy One, Blessed be He, thereby handed us a book of mussar and said: Go now into the Land of Israel, and remember that there may be additional exiles; and in them, remember that the One Who redeemed you from that exile is the One Who will redeem you from the next exile. "As in the days of your coming out of the land of Egypt, I will show him wonders."
זֹאת אָשִׁיב אֶל־לִבִּי עַל־כֵּן אוֹחִיל׃ - This I bring back to my heart; therefore I hope.
Thus, "You will surely remember" - that which You command us to remember is intended so that "This I bring back to my heart; therefore I hope." Why am I commanded to remember? Because the debt is still open. Why am I commanded to record it? Because the debt is still open. And this tells me: remember what happened; I redeemed you then, I am the First Redeemer and I am the Final Redeemer. If so, the remembrance itself encourages us. What do you, the nations, think - that the story is over? If the story were over, why were we told to write it down, why were we told to remember? The remembrance proves that I have something to anticipate. But had they told me: do not remember anything, what was is over and nothing more remains - I would have despaired and broken down, saying that perhaps the nations are right and there is no more hope. On the contrary, by Your saying "You will surely remember," by commanding me to remember the destruction - this is what I bring back to my heart, and therefore I hope, and I have reason to anticipate eternal redemption. A truly wonderful explanation of the Maggid of Dubno.
The *Torat Chesed* explains: one of the benefits of remembering troubles is that it humbles the soul. We see that after Eliyahu HaNavi came to rebuke Achav and said to him, "Have you murdered and also inherited?" - Achav wore sackcloth and "walked softly", and the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Eliyahu: "Have you seen how Achav has humbled himself before Me? Therefore, I will not bring the evil in his days." There was a state of submission here, and that is the purpose of tribulations. When things go well for a person - "and his heart was lifted up", he walks around with a sense of haughtiness, "you grew fat, you grew thick, you became gorged" and "and he forgot God who made him." But when the Holy One, blessed be He, brings troubles upon him, his heart breaks and his soul is humbled. And this is the prophet's aim: "My soul remembers well, and sinks down within me" - remember that you forgot the mitzvot of Hashem, remember that you abandoned the service of Hashem, and through this, your soul will be humbled within you.
Another benefit is illustrated by the story of Rabbi Akiva and his companions. The Gemara recounts that they were walking on the Temple Mount, and they were weeping while Rabbi Akiva was laughing. They said to him: "Akiva, why are you laughing?" He replied: "And why are you weeping?" They said to him: "A place of which it is written, 'and the stranger who comes near shall be put to death,' and now we see foxes walking upon it, and gentiles carousing in His Sanctuary - shall we not weep?" Rabbi Akiva said to them: "That is precisely why I am laughing. There are two prophecies - a prophecy of destruction and a prophecy of redemption. As long as the prophecy of destruction had not come to pass, I did not know when the prophecy of redemption would arrive. But now that I see the prophecy of calamity fulfilled, the prophecy of redemption will surely be fulfilled as well." Here you have hope - "therefore I hope": there is reason to anticipate and await the fulfillment of Hashem's prophecies, and there is no doubt that the prophecy of redemption will come as well. On the contrary, when you see that troubles have arrived, it is a sign that the redemption is drawing near.
And this is precisely the analogy our Sages use to describe the birth pangs of the redemption - like the labor pains of a woman giving birth. When a woman begins to feel contractions, she does not say, "Oh, what a shame"; she says, "Here it is, it is drawing near, a child is about to enter the world." The pains are a sign pointing toward birth, toward redemption. Thus, "my soul sinks down within me", remember what took place - "this I recall to my heart", and therefore I hope, and I have reason to anticipate an eternal redemption.
The book *Alon Bachut* explains that "this" alludes to the Torah, as we say, "And this is the Torah that Moshe set." "This I recall to my heart" - it is the Torah that comforts me in my affliction: "Were Your Torah not my delight, I would have perished in my affliction," and "We have no remnant left except this Torah." What comforts us in exile? I will bring the Torah back to my heart - "therefore I hope"; it still gives me hope to yearn for.
And how true this is of the Torah giants of Israel. The Steipler said that were it not for the Torah he engaged in, he would have broken long ago from all the troubles that befell him. "I had every reason in the world not to engage in Torah," he said, "yet I set them all aside and clung solely to the holy Torah." It emerges, then, that what sustains a person in the most difficult circumstances is the study of Torah - that is what encourages and revives him. Indeed, we have seen great leaders of Israel who endured bitter hardships, the death of children, and terrible tragedies - and what did they do? They took a Gemara, sat down, and immersed themselves in it. When I am engaged in Torah, I am attached to the Holy One, blessed be He. "Your Torah is my delight" - and through this I do not perish in my affliction. But without it, a person walks around in depression and sorrow, constantly brooding over his troubles and problems. A person walks into a Beit Midrash - and that is it, all the troubles vanish, all the worries, the bank overdraft, everything is forgotten. This is our comfort in our affliction.
The book *Lechem Dim'ah* says: I did not fall into despair from the magnitude of the troubles; rather, I said - since all the tribulations have come, this is proof that the promises will be fulfilled as well. What does this mean? Many people ask: Where was the Master of the Universe during the Holocaust? How could there be such suffering, such catastrophes, women, infants, and children? What is the answer? The answer is: He was not there. And what does it mean that He "was not there" - that there is no Master of the Universe? No, there is a Master of the Universe, but He announced in advance that He would not be there. You knock and knock - where is He, where? Read the note: I left a note in advance saying that I will not be home during this period. And this is an explicit prophecy in the Torah: "When many evils and troubles befall them... And I will surely hide My face on that day."
And it is written there, "and it shall be devoured." Do you know what "and it shall be devoured" means? Has anyone who slaughters an animal ever suffered pangs of conscience? In the same way, the gentiles will slaughter you without any pangs of conscience, like a person eating food, without feeling any qualms whatsoever. Cockroaches are dealt with using insecticide, and Jews with Zyklon B - "there are parasites here that must be exterminated." The Holy One, blessed be He, says: Do not say I did not tell you; in advance I inform you, "And I will surely hide My face." And subsequently: "And they will say, is it not because our God is not among us that these evils have befallen us?"
There are two ways to understand this verse. A person might say "there is no God" and cast off all restraint - that is the wicked person, who is always looking for a way to throw off the yoke, and here he found an opportunity. Someone once asked the Chazon Ish: How could it be that the Holocaust turned ordinary people into righteous tzaddikim, and other people into wicked ones? The very same event - some grew tremendously strong in their faith, while others broke completely. The Chazon Ish replied: Imagine two barrels, one with sugar at the bottom and one with salt at the bottom. As long as you leave them undisturbed, if you taste them, they both seem the same; you taste nothing, for the sugar is at the bottom and the salt is at the bottom. But the moment you take them and shake them - one tastes sweet and the other tastes salty. What happened? They were shaken. A Jew is like a barrel whose contents at the bottom are unknown; but when it begins to be shaken, everything floats to the surface. Whoever had sediment at the bottom - all the muck rose up: here is an excuse to abandon everything, "What do I owe? The Master of the Universe treats the Jewish people this way!" - and he abandoned everything. But a person who was strong in faith, when he sees this, he understands: "Is it not because our God is not among us that these evils have befallen us?" - Hashem stated in advance that He would withdraw, and that very realization becomes a source of strength for him.
And this is what he means: "This I recall to my heart" - I will reflect and contemplate in my heart: how could it be that what happened to us has happened to no other nation in the world? How could it be that we were persecuted and chastised in a manner unlike any other nation? I do not believe there is any nation in history of which it was recorded that compassionate women boiled their own children. There is no such historical record - only concerning the Jewish people. Yosippon describes the account of that woman who killed her son and cooked him, an entire chapter, a horrific and chilling thing to read, requiring a strong heart to endure. Has any nation experienced such a thing? "This I recall to my heart" - look and see these tribulations, which defy all human logic, and yet this incomprehensible reality was foretold in advance. "Therefore I hope" - if so, there is hope. For the very fact that Hashem forewarned, "I will not be there," teaches that when you seek Him in the midst of the dire distress, you have arrived too late. And if I see that the Holy One, blessed be He, fulfilled this prophecy, there are other prophecies - prophecies of redemption, prophecies assuring that Hashem will not contend forever, nor will He be angry with His people Israel forever, and that ultimately the Holy One, blessed be He, will perfect the world under the sovereignty of the Almighty. So there is hope: the One who said such harsh tribulation would come that you would not find the Master of the Universe within it, also said that in the end redemption will arrive. "This I recall to my heart; therefore I hope" - and through this, I will not be broken by the harsh afflictions that we endure.
Another explanation of "This I bring back to my heart, therefore I have hope": The author of the lamentations says, since "remembering, it remembers" - my soul remembers the troubles, even though there is a decree upon the dead that they be forgotten from the heart. Seemingly, we should have already forgotten all the troubles and everything we endured, yet I see that "my soul bows down within me." How could my soul bow down within me for so long, when even the dead would have already been forgotten from the heart? What do you learn from this? The very conclusion Yaakov reached from the fact that he never forgot Yosef. It was a sign that perhaps the boy is still alive - and this is why Yaakov said, "Yosef is no more, and Shimon is no more." What is the comparison? Yosef is dead and Shimon is in prison! Rather, Yaakov was saying: I have a sense that Yosef is merely "no more" - for otherwise, how could it be that after twenty-two years I still remember him, when there is a decree upon the dead that they be forgotten from the heart? On the very same principle: "Remembering, it remembers, and my soul bows down within me" - I remember all the troubles and my soul is bowed down within me; what is this a sign of? "This I bring back to my heart" - I reflect upon this and it encourages me, "therefore I have hope." There is hope, and the proof is that I still remember, that it has not been forgotten from my heart - a sign that there is reason to hope for the redemption, which will arrive any moment.
It is told of Napoleon that one night he was walking through his city and heard weeping coming from a synagogue. He entered and saw people sitting on the floor, reading in a mournful voice and crying. He asked, "Did something happen?" They told him, "They are crying over the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash." He said, "Destruction? What is the Beit HaMikdash?" They told him, "It was a great house of prayer." He said, "So what is the problem? How much money are we talking about? How much is needed? We will rebuild it for them! I see people sitting on the floor and weeping - tell me the amount, and the municipality will contribute." This was not the State of Israel, it was France, where they have a soft spot for religious matters. They said to him, "No, this is the Beit HaMikdash; it is not something destroyed here two months ago. It was destroyed two thousand years ago." He said, "Two thousand years, and you are still crying?" They replied, "Yes, we have not yet forgotten the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash." Napoleon said to them, "If two thousand years have passed and you are still weeping, I have no doubt that this House will be rebuilt. A Jew who remembers his home for two thousand years and still weeps for it, yearns for it, hopes for it, and awaits it - will merit to see it restored."
And this is what the author of the lamentations says: "Remembering, it remembers, and my soul bows down within me" - from the fact that I still remember all the troubles, that my soul is bowed down within me thousands of years later and I still grieve over it, I reflect upon this: "This I bring back to my heart." Consequently, this shows me that on the contrary, you must continue to yearn, for the very hope that has not departed from you is the greatest proof and sign that this is not like one who is dead and forgotten from the heart, but rather something living and enduring.
Another explanation: "This" (Zot) is an allusion to the Shechinah, as it is written, "With this (be-zot) shall Aharon come into the Sanctuary," and as in "This is my God and I will glorify Him" - for when Aharon entered the Holy of Holies, the Shechinah entered with him. "This I bring back to my heart" - since the Shechinah is in exile, "therefore I have hope"; there is reason to hope and look forward with honor to Hashem redeeming us. If a king puts you in prison while he sits comfortably and quietly on his throne, there is a strong chance he will forget about you, leaving you to rot in prison for the rest of your days. But if the king puts you in prison and tells you, "As long as you are in prison, I am in the neighboring cell, wishing to share your distress so long as you are in pain" - would one despair in such a situation? Certainly not, because the king himself, who is to release me from prison, is suffering with me every day, and this gives immense hope that redemption will come soon. This is "This I bring back to my heart" - that the Holy Shechinah is with me, "I am with him in distress," and "He has not entered His home," as we say in Patach Eliyahu: "I will not enter the heavenly Jerusalem until I enter the earthly Jerusalem." This I take to heart, and it strengthens my hope - "therefore I have hope," yearning and awaiting the imminent redemption.
חַסְדֵי יְהֹוָה כִּי לֹא־תָמְנוּ כִּי לֹא־כָלוּ רַחֲמָיו׃ - It is the kindnesses of Hashem that we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.
Even though Hashem pursues us in exile, I see two proofs in this. First: one who seeks merely to chase someone away does not continue to pursue. Second: one who pursues in order to destroy finishes the job; yet "it is the kindnesses of Hashem that we are not consumed" - proving that the pursuit with which Hashem pursued us was not meant to wipe us out, but was intended to return us to Him so that we would mend our ways.
Chapter 3 traces the stages of decline for us - from Yoshiyahu and Yehoachaz, through Yehoyakim and Yehoyachin, the siege of Jerusalem and the blinding of Tzidkiyahu, the burning of the Beit HaMikdash in the month of Av, all the way to the assassination of Gedalyahu ben Achikam by Yishmael ben Netanyah: "And my soul was cast off from peace" - for through that "man of peace" the soul was cast off, and through it the goodness of Shabbat and rest was severed: "I have forgotten good." Yet out of this very depth of despair, hope blossoms: when punishment stems from the attribute of mercy, it is a surgery for our own good; when there is nowhere left to fall, one can only rise; and when the Holy One, Blessed is He, commands us to remember, it is a sign that the debt remains open and the deed has not been torn up. The memory that refuses to fade after thousands of years, the prophecies of calamity that were fulfilled with exact precision, the Torah that comforts in affliction, and the Shechinah that descended with us into exile - all of these are "This I bring back to my heart, therefore I have hope." And from them we learn that "the kindnesses of Hashem never cease": the pursuit was not meant to destroy, but to bring us back to Him and mend our ways.