One of the highlights of the Torah reading of Parshas Masei is the ba'al koreh's rhythmic chant of the forty-two encampments of the Jewish people in the desert. The Meforshim grapple with the question as to why the Torah felt the need to list each one of the forty-two different places. The Ramban (33:1) quotes the Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim 3:50) who suggests that the Torah wanted to emphasize just how miraculous it was that the Jewish people were able to survive for forty years in the desert.
For those who experienced yetzias Mitzrayim and kriyas yam suf, those who ate the mon and drank the water of Miriam's well, the miracles of the desert were real. They knew what happened to them because they saw the miracles with their own eyes (see Eikev 11:2-7). But sometime in the future, there might be those who would deny that any miracle took place. They would say that surely the Jewish people passed through parts of the desert that were close to inhabited spaces, where they were able to find plants to eat and water pits from which to drink.
In order to prevent such a misconception, the Torah lists all forty-two encampments of the Jewish people to show that these places were far from civilization. And the only way they could survive in such uninhabitable areas was through divine intervention. Hashem protected them from physical harm in the frightening desert which was full of snakes and scorpions, and He provided them with mon to eat and water to drink and shade to rest (see Eikev 8:14-16).
This, says the Rambam, is the deeper meaning behind the language of the posuk, "And Moshe wrote their goings forth according to their journeys by the word of Hashem - al pi Hashem "(Masei 33:2). Ibn Ezra explains that al pi Hashem refers to the travels of Klal Yisrael. "By the word of Hashem they would encamp, and by the word of Hashem they would travel" (Beha'aloscha 9:23). But the Rambam suggests that al pi Hashem refers to Moshe's writing of the forty-two encampments. The list itself was divinely inspired to teach all future generations the lesson of divine providence.
Time and time again, the Torah reminds us not to forget the miracles of the past (see for example, Eikev 8:11-18). But it is a constant struggle. In this week's haftorah, Hashem bemoans the fact that Klal Yisrael seemed to have forgotten Him. "What wrong did your forefathers find in Me, that they distanced themselves from Me and pursued futility, and became futile? And they did not say, 'Where is Hashem, Who brought us up from the land of Egypt, Who led us in the Wilderness, in a land of desert and pit, in a land of waste and the shadow of death, in a land through which no man passed and where no person settled'" (Yirmiyahu 2:5-6). Chazal say that the first Beis Hamikdash was destroyed because the Jewish people violated the worst sins (Yoma 9b). But Yirmiyahu reveals that the source of all that wrongdoing was the fact that the people were distant from Hashem and they did not feel dependent on Him.
"Not by bread alone does man live, but by all that emanates from the mouth of G-d does man live" (Eikev 8:3). Only Hashem can provide man's sustenance. This was the purpose of the miracles of the desert - to teach the lesson of hashgacha pratis. As the Ramban (end of Parshas Bo) famously notes, "From the great and well-known miracles a person comes to appreciate the hidden miracles." And that recognition should naturally cause a person to want to reciprocate and follow Hashem's command (see Rav Yerucham Levovitz, Daas Torah, Matos-Masei). This is the clear implication of the psukim in Parshas Eikev (10:21, 11:1), "He is your praise and He is your G-d, Who did for you these great and awesome things that your eyes saw...And you shall love Hashem, your G-d, and you shall safeguard His charge, His decrees, His laws and His commandments, all the days." When one experiences divine miracles, which are really an expression of Hashem's love, one should naturally feel the desire to respond with his own expression of love toward Hashem through an enhanced observance of mitzvos. But when the miracles are forgotten, a person's connection to Hashem weakens and things begin to unravel.
The Maharsha (Bechoros 8a) comments that the twenty-one days of the three weeks correspond to the twenty-one days from Rosh Hashana until Hoshana Rabba. What is the connection between these two very different periods of time on the Jewish calendar? What's more, according to this calculation, the twenty-second day after the seventeenth of Tamuz which is Tisha B'Av must correspond to Shemini Atzeres, the day after Hoshana Rabba. But these two days seem like polar opposites. Shemini Atzeres is a day that we celebrate Hashem's unique connection to Klal Yisrael, while Tisha B'Av is a day of mourning for the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. How can we compare these two very different days?
Tisha B'Av is referred to as a moed (a special time), as in the posuk, "Kara alay moed - He proclaimed a set time against me. (Eicha 1:15)" The Mordechai (Ta'anis 635) writes that for this reason we do not recite Selichos, Avinu Malkeinu or Tachanun on Tisha B'Av just as these tefillos are not said on yom tov. Presumably this means that Tisha B'Av is treated like a yom tov, a moed, because we hope that when the Beis HaMikdash will be rebuilt, all days which were previously designated as days of mourning for the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash will become days of festive celebration. As a result, we omit any prayer which would be inappropriate for a yom tov.
But some suggest that perhaps Tisha B'Av is referred to as a moed for a different reason. The root of the word moed is va'ad which means meeting. Every yom tov is an opportunity to connect and to bond - to meet - with Hashem. And Tisha B'Av is also a time we "meet" Hashem because we are forced to confront His omnipotence and our weakness. One can see Hashem in times of joy and happiness, and one can also see Hashem in times of loss and destruction, because when a person feels vulnerable and powerless he naturally reaches out to the One he knows is in control.
This is the thematic link between the twenty-one days of Tishrei and the twenty-one days of the three weeks. During the month of Tishrei we seek out Hakadosh Boruch Hu - dirshu Hashem b'himatz'o - and we try to strengthen the bonds of affection between us and Him. The climax of that process is the day of Shemini Atzeres when we sing of our great love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu and His Torah, and His everlasting love for Klal Yisrael. On the other hand, the period of the three weeks culminating in Tisha B'Av is a time that we are forced to confront our human frailty, to appreciate how vulnerable we are without Hashem's protection.
As some of the Chassidic masters put it, one of the highlights of Shemini Atzeres (and Simchas Torah) is the lively recitation of a series of pesukim which begins with Ata harei'sa. "You have been shown (the miracles of the desert) in order to know - ata harei'sa lada'as - that Hashem is the G-d; there is none beside Him - ein od milvado" (Va'eschanan 4:35). Similarly, the Torah reading on Tisha B'Av also includes the posuk of Ata harei'sa lada'as because Tisha B'Av and Shemini Atzeres share the same theme. One can achieve an awareness that ein od milvado through the joy and happiness of Shemini Atzeres, and one is forced to confront the understanding that ein od milvado through the pain and destruction of Tisha B'Av.
If there is one thing that the events of this past Shemini Atzeres and their aftermath have taught us, it is that ein od milvado; we are totally dependent on Hashem's protection and His mercy. May we see yeshuos Hashem b'karov.