In this season of destruction and comfort, I found myself reflecting on the words of Dovid HaMelech in Tehillim Chapter 138, verse 8

If I ascend to the heavens You are there; and should I recline in Hell, You would be there.

This verse speaks of the loving presence of God in any state that the Jew finds himself or herself in. Whether it is in giddy exuberance or the deepest of suicidal despairs God is there.

“Yes, but so what?” you ask. “If I am so bulloxed in my exuberance or despair what does the presence of God mean? His presence means nothing to me in such states.”

The answer lies in destruction and in the real meaning of comfort. We have all been indoctrinated into how catastrophic the destruction of the Temple was. I have no doubt that it was. Yet to dismiss the whole story as absolutely black is to fail to see the universal truth in destruction: there can be no growth without the destruction of the old. In order for the beautiful new buildings to go up, the old ones must come down. Enlightenment follows disillusionment. Joy follows sadness. Peace follows war. Day follows night. Light follows darkness.

The destruction of the Temples and all of the horrors that befell us since were unquestionably bad events. Yet they have all been part of the amazing story that is the Jewish people of today of tomorrow. Indeed, on a personal level a life without a bit of destruction is in fact a sure sign that one has failed to mature in his or her relationship with the Divine. That Dovid HaMelech could find God in those states was in fact a result of his willingness to break down the autistic cocoon of emotional experience. Both in times of heavenly joy and deep despair, Dovid swung the wrecking ball of longing to find the imminence of God.

So in this time of destruction, let us swing away at the walls of self imposed limits. On the other side of those wall, in the rubble of self, we will find all that we long for.