Tisha B’Av begins this coming Saturday night, and marks one of the most tragic days on the Jewish calendar. Numerous atrocities have befallen the Jewish people on this date (or just around it) throughout the last 3,000 years, the pinnacles being the destruction of both the first and second Temples.

There are always two unseen guests at every bris — neither of whom ever gets an invitation, and both of whom probably wouldn’t RSVP even if we sent one. But their presence is felt nonetheless. One is Elijah — the beloved and expected one.

Midrash Rabbah 21.12 attributes to the daughters of Zelophehad the role of judges of the law, even in Moses’ presence, for as the Lord says, they “speak what is right” (Num 27:6). That is quite startling!

The voice from the flames declared: “I am the God of your forefathers, the God of Avraham, the God of Yitzhak, and the God of Ya’akov.” And then, this voice—the voice of Hashem—said something astonishing: “I have seen the plight of my people, and I am sending you.”

Parashat Chukat is one of the most enigmatic portions in the entire Torah. It seems to flow with contradiction: it begins with a mysterious ordinance, introduces a miraculous yet perplexing deliverance, and ends in what feels like a strange and tragic justice. Midrash teaches us that hidden within these paradoxes are holy lessons, if we’re willing to live with the mystery.

When Moses was confronted and accused by Korah and his clan, he didn't hastily defend himself or his position; he didn't explain himself. Rather, “When Moses heard this, he fell on his face.”

When has the world not been trembling somewhere? Perhaps what Scripture is really telling us is that our so-called “last days” may stretch on for generations. The question is not when the end will come, but how we are meant to live in such a time.

We in Messianic circles hear this a lot. But take a moment to meditate on the astounding reality of this. Israel will no longer need to be afraid when God makes all things new and we dwell daily in his holy presence.

That we should self-regulate and voluntarily humble ourselves before the Lord becomes a sign of the work of the Torah in our hearts and minds.

We don’t count the seven weeks of the Omer to make sure we celebrate Shavuot on the correct date, since we already know it falls on Sivan 6 every year. Rather, we count the days to express our yearning to relive the encounter at Mount Sinai, when we received the Torah amidst an awesome display of God’s presence.