We are currently in the time of year that commemorates the anniversary of the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.  One of the things that our tradition tells us is that moshiach was born on the day that the Temple was destroyed.  This does not mean that the actual person of moshiach was born on the 9th of Av almost 2000 years ago.  What it means is that at the very moment that the world was plunged into exile, the potential agent for redemption was immediately brought into existence. 

The same may be said for each one of us.  In our lives, we may experience a personal destruction, a cataclysmic event that brings us to the depths of spiritual bankruptcy.  We must remember that even at that darkest moment -- even before things have even begun to appear to have gotten any better -- the perfect serenity and joy that is to unfold for us in the future already exists now.

I know a woman whose life was at one time completely devoid of purpose; she had lost everything meaningful to any human being.  Over a period of years, she began to deeply change herself and begin a completely new life.  Conveying the secret of her success she remarked,  "When I look back on my life, I see that everytime I thought that my life was falling apart, it was really falling into place."

This Shabbos there was a Shabbaton for the Gan Israel Day Camp here in Milwaukee.  The counselors asked me if I would tell the kids a story.

There is a reason that I made my career in adult education.  I tried my hand at teaching kids.  It's not my strength.  I don't like teaching students who have to ask for permission to go to the bathroom.

At any rate, five or six minutes is about my maximum for holding a room full of kids.  Even then, I was relying on the counselors -- a group of 18 year old Lubavitcher girls -- to handle any discipline issues that might arise.  Remember, these kids had been bribed with sugar all day.

The story I told them is a tale of Rabbi Akiva from the Talmud.  This is a story that I tell my own kids all the time.  It's about how Rabbi Akiva was traveling and came to a town to stay for the night but they wouldn't let him in.  The Talmud tells us that whenever anything like that would happen, Rabbi Akivah would say, "Everything that G-d does, He does for the good."  This case was no exception.  Rabbi Akivah said, "Everything that G-d does, He does for the good," and went to go sleep out in a field outside of the city walls. 

Now, Rabbi Akivah had three things: a donkey, a rooster and a lamp.  Soon, a lion came and devoured his donkey.  Rabbi Akivah said, "Everything that G-d does, He does for the good."  A cat came and ate his rooster.  Rabbi Akivah said, "Everything that G-d does, He does for the good."  A wind came and blew out his lamp.  Rabbi Akivah said, "Everything that G-d does, He does for the good."

In the morning, he discovered that during the night, a band of marauders came and attacked the town.  Had he been allowed to sleep there, he would have met the same dismal fate as the townspeople.  Had the marauders heard his donkey bray or his rooster crow, he would have been spotted.  So too, if they would have seen his lamp.  All of the seemingly unfortunate events that happened that night -- his not being let into the town, his donkey being eaten by a lion, his rooster being eaten by a cat and his lamp being extinguished by the wind -- quite literally saved his life.

So, what's the moral of the story?  Don't worry about what looks like a bad luck or a tough break.  Don't get stressed when you think you've suffered a setback.  Relax and remember that G-d is in charge and He's working things out for you just fine without your getting all bent out of shape.

This is the most important thing I could think of to tell the children.

I was speaking to a friend about faith and its place in everyday life.

He told me that many ideas to which he had held fast early on in his spiritual journey, he now dismissed as false, even damaging beliefs that had led him away from real growth.  Practices that he had once revered as a zealous devotion to spiritual ideals, he now saw to be superficial, sanctimonious and immature.  Particularly, he expressed a disdain for a way of life that he felt had drawn him into a delusional, religiously themed fantasy world.  As such, he had been re-examining all of his beliefs but did not wish to throw the baby out with the bathwater. 

"Do you know what I think is the difference between fantasy and faith?" I asked him.  "A fantasy is an idea that you use to get away from the world.  Faith is an idea that gives you the courage to live in it."

It's nice to see the world seeking spiritual enlightenment. 

It's nice that they are looking to the Jews for the path.  People want to know how to live their lives.

What's unfortunate is that what they are really looking for is Chasidus but what they keep asking for is Kabbalah.