July 18, 2026|ד' אב ה' אלפים תשפ"ו Devarim 5786 - Shalom for Charlotte By Rabbi Beni Krohn

Each year, Parshas Devarim is the Shabbos before Tisha B'Av, Shabbos Chazon. And the Torah offers us an insight, a message, reminding us of that connection.

When recounting the challenges he faced leading the Jewish People, Moshe tells the people about how, at one point, he turned to Hakadosh Baruch Hu and he called out to Him:

(יב) אֵיכָה אֶשָּׂא לְבַדִּי טָרְחֲכֶם וּמַשַּׂאֲכֶם וְרִיבְכֶם:

"How can I carry on my own all of your fighting with each other."

And the minhag is that the Baal Korei reads this pasuk to the tune of Eicha, again, hinting at the connection between our parsha and the megillah of Eicha we will read later on this week.

But what is the real connection between this pasuk and Tisha B'Av? Is it simply the connection between the word Eicha in each place, or is there more?

Many of the mefarshim (Rashi, Seforno and others) note that this pasuk clearly reflects that even in the time of Moshe Rabbeinu, the cry of Eicha emanated from a frustration with the fact that Am Yisrael could not stop fighting.

Moshe's cry of Eicha Esa L'vadi, how can I carry Tarchachem, Masaachem, v'Rivchem, the different ways in which his people would attack and disparage each other, was a harbinger of a future Eicha, the Eicha of Yirmiyahu, which would come about for the same reason.

The Vilna Gaon, however, takes it a step further. Because if we look closely, these two psukim carry even more similarities:

In Eicha we read:

אֵיכָה יָשְׁבָה בָדָד הָעִיר רַבָּתִי עָם

How did a city of thousands now sit alone

Moshe Rabbeinu said:

אֵיכָה אֶשָּׂא לְבַדִּי טָרְחֲכֶם וּמַשַּׂאֲכֶם וְרִיבְכֶם:

How can I carry your burdens alone

Both psukim use the language of Eicha, but also both use the language of Badad, of being all alone. In Eicha we read of a city, Yerushalayim, that had been bustling with thousands of visitors and residents every single day, which was now left desolate, all alone.

In Devarim, Moshe Rabbeinu notes to Am Yisrael that it wasn't just that it was difficult to carry their burden. What made it so hard was that he was doing so alone, with no one else to help share the burden.

But what he was really messaging, writes the Gaon, is that when we live as a people with continued tarchachem, masaachem, v'rivchem, when we perpetuate divisiveness, when we hold grudges, when we treat fellow Jews as the other, it leads to an experience of being livad, of both individuals feeling isolated, feeling all alone.

And so, comes the Torah, as a precursor to Tisha B'Av, to remind us that if we want to heal the wounds of Eicha, we must find a way to never allow other Jews to feel isolated, to feel alone. Instead, we must make it our business to help every Jew feel connected, to feel supported, to feel a part of community, to foster that sense of connectedness for every single member of Klal Yisrael.

Last week, after I spoke about the centrality of Shalom, someone asked me if I had heard about Shalom for Charlotte. I had not, so they sent it to me.

Shalom for Charlotte is an organization that was started by Yudi & Chumi Herzberg, who live in Pomona, NY. And it started because of a terrible tragedy. On June 2nd, just 6 weeks ago, their 8 year old daughter Charlotte was riding her bike when she was tragically struck by a car and later passed away. But to add even more tragedy to the already tragic story, the individual driving the car was Yudi's best friend and chavrusa.

As Yudi & Chumi left the hospital, literally minutes after identifying their daughter, they decided together that there was one place they had to stop before going home to prepare for the next day's funeral: they went directly to the home of their close friend, the man who had been driving the car.

They knocked on the door, and the two men embraced. Yudi told his best friend that as heartbroken as he was, Yudi & Chumi were determined not to allow this terrible tragedy to come between them.

And the next day at the funeral, Yudi told the hundreds of people who had come that he and his family were not going to allow this tragedy to tear their community apart, and neither should anyone else.

Soon after shiva ended, the family launched a website called Shalom for Charlotte, which encourages individuals who have had a falling out with someone else to reach out and begin the process of healing relationships, and to do so in the zechus of Charlotte. As of yesterday, 2,598 what they call "Acts of Shalom" have taken place as a result of this terrible tragedy and the Herzberg's incredible strength.

This week, I received an email that Yudi sent to hundreds of Rabbanim, asking that we declare this Shabbos a Shabbos of Shalom, a Shabbos to commit in some small way to increasing Shalom with a fellow Jew, to help Jews feel connected and never l'vad, never alone, and I, of course, agreed.

And so, I wanted to focus for a couple of minutes this morning on what I believe is perhaps the most important way we can increase Shalom in our community and in our personal lives, and that is the way we speak.

A metzorah, a person who contracts tzaraas for speaking Lashon Hara, has a multi-step process to reform himself.

First, he is required to stay badad, all alone. As Chazal note, he or she caused separation between people, so he or she must spend some time alone, appreciating the loneliness that they caused.

And then, they bring Shtei Tziporim, two birds. One is shechted, and one is sent away.

And the mefarshim ask, why two different birds? Rabbi Bernard Weinberger, in his sefer Shemen HaTov, notes that this is because the metzorah needs a kapara for two things:

1. Of course, for the lashon hara that he spoke, damaging reputations, destroying relationships.
2. For the positive, uplifting thing he could have said instead.

The goal of the process of being a metzorah is not simply to feel bad about the negative impact of lashon hara. It is to remind us that we have the incredible potential every time we open our mouths to choose:

• Do I want to create division, isolation, hurt?

  OR

• Do I want to bring people together, to bring someone close, to help them feel included and appreciated?

So often we underestimate the power of the comments we make. We think we're just sharing our opinion, making a funny joke, not realizing the absolute destruction we can create in someone's life with a comment.

I'm sure many of you have had the experience that someone tells you a story about something terrible someone else did to them, and as much as you try, it is difficult to shift away from the opinion you have now formed because of that one story, which of course is one person's perspective without any context.

This type of storytelling and opinion-giving destroys reputations, isolates people within friend groups, and tears at the fabric of community. It makes so many individuals feel badad, all alone.

And it is no surprise that Chazal tell us that it was the lashon hara of the Meraglim on the very first Tisha B'Av that turned that day into a day of destruction for Am Yisrael. It was the sinas chinam caused by lashon hara that destroyed the second Beis HaMikdash, and that is why the Chafetz Chaim writes in the introduction to his sefer that our commitment to repairing the aveira of lashon hara is the ticket to the end of galus and the beginning of geula.

No one would have judged Yudi & Chumi Herzberg if they couldn't ever look at their best friend again after the tragedy they experienced. But they both understood the power they were handed in this impossible situation.

And so, Yudi made a conscious choice to stand up at the funeral of his daughter, and to use his incredible power of speech not to isolate and push away another Jew. He chose not to allow machlokes to engulf his community.

He stood up and he chose to use a moment of agony to bring another person who was also broken close, and to be a shining example of the power we all have, in every moment, to build someone up or to tear them down.

I know that we find the Nine Days and Tisha B'Av to be a little difficult. It's somber, and a little depressing. But these days are actually a tremendous gift, because they are an opportunity to remind ourselves of the incredible power that exists within each and every one of us.

Because there are so many times every day when we are presented with that opportunity to stop for a moment and to ask ourselves:

Do I want to create machlokes and cause people to turn against each other, or do I want to use that same incredible power of speech to bring them close?

Do I want to be a person who makes other people feel bad about themselves, or do I want to be the person who helps others see just how much value they have?

Do I want to play a role in extending galus, or am I ready to play a pivotal role in bringing us closer to geulah?