By Rabbi Yair Hoffman
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Mamdani. Hamas.
The bodies of the hostages. the Daf.
The levayos. Mamdani. The Daf. Our minds swirl.
And as the Daf Yomi learns meseches Zevachim, our minds cannot help but go back to the Gemara that teaches us that every neshama stands before the Heavenly Court and faces a series of penetrating questions about the life that has just been lived. Among them, one question cuts to the very heart of a Yid’s relationship with destiny: “Tzipisa liyeshuah—Did you yearn for the redemption?”
It is a haunting inquiry. Not “Did you daven for it?” nor “Did you believe in it?” but rather—did you yearn for it? Did the absence of the Beis HaMikdash create a palpable void, a deficit, a lacunae – in your life? Was there a sacred space in your heart reserved for something missing from this world? Or did you. Meaning we, all of us – go about life – talking about sports, or our next vacation spot or the market?
This Wednesday’s daf, Zevachim 59, speaks to this yearning in the most visceral way possible. It discusses what happens when the Mizbeyach is damaged, when that central structure around which the entire service of the Mikdash revolved is somehow compromised. The ruling is stark and unequivocal: “Mizbeyach shepagam, kol hakodashim sheshachtu sham pesulim—If the mizbeyach is damaged, all the korbanos that are slaughtered there are pasul – they are disqualified.”
Let’s think about this for a moment. Even if everything else is perfect—the kohanim are ready, the animals are without blemish, the Sanctuary stands in all its glory—if the Mizbeyach itself is flawed, nothing can proceed. The entire Divine service grinds to a halt.
The Gemara probes even deeper, comparing two seemingly contradictory statements of Rav. Regarding the outer Mizbeyach, he teaches that even minor damage renders all offerings invalid. Yet regarding the inner Mizbeyach where the ketores was burned, Rav rules that if the Mizbeyach is completely removed, the incense may still be burned on the spot where it stood.
How can both be true?
The resolution is profound: while the ketores could theoretically be burned on the floor of the Sanctuary, and the limbs of offerings could be burned on the floor of the courtyard, there is one element of the service that absolutely requires the physical Mizbeyach—the placement of the dam – the blood. The blood, that symbol of life itself, of the neshama’s connection to HaKadosh Baruch Hu, of Dveikus Bashem – that dam must touch the Mizbeyach. Without it, even the location itself is insufficient.
This difference teaches us something essential about yearning. Some aspects of our Avodah can continue even in galus – in exile—our Torah study, our davening, our mitzvos. These are like the ketores that could theoretically be offered on the sacred ground even without the Mizbeyach.
But there remains something else.
Something irreplaceable.
Something that cannot be substituted or approximated.
The blood must touch the Mizbeyach. The full expression of our Dveikus, our relationship with Hashem requires the Beis HaMikdash itself.
The Gemara goes on to tell us something extraordinary. When Klal Yisroel returned from Bavel, three neviim accompanied us. One of these neviim had a very specific mission: to testify about the exact location of the Mizbeyach.
The Gemara explains that without this prophetic testimony, they could not have rebuilt the Beis HaMikdash, because they would not have known exactly where the Mizbeyach belonged.
Let’s for a moment – imagine the scene:
Thousands of yidden streaming back to a devastated land, our land – where ruins stand where glory once had stood. They have reshus – permission to rebuild. They have the will to rebuild. But they don’t know where to place the Mizbeyach—that exact spot where heaven and earth met, where Avraham Avinu had bound Yitzchak, where Ya’akov Avinu saw the ladder reaching to the heavens.
Without knowing that precise location, all their yearning and all their resources would not be sufficient.
Today we face the same challenge. The Maharatz Chayos notes that even those Poskim who discuss the theoretical possibility of offering korbanos even before the complete rebuilding [may it come speedily in our days] – all agree on one point: we need to know the exact location of the Mizbeyach.
And without a Navi to tell us, we cannot proceed. We are in a state of waiting, of yearning for that prophetic knowledge to be revealed.
But this limitation itself contains a powerful message. Our inability to rebuild on our own is a reminder that the Beis HaMikdash is not merely a human construction project. It is the dwelling place of the Shechinah, the nexus between heaven and earth. Just as we needed Neviim to show us where it belongs, so too we need prophetic vision—we need Mashiach—to rebuild it properly.
There is also a beautiful insight from the Rama – related to the Daf – about the placement of the washing basin, the kiyur, which stood south of the Mizbeyach near the Menorah. The southern side represents wisdom, and the kiyur represents self-examination, the washing away of spiritual tumah before approaching Hashem. Anyone who wished to enter the environs of the Shechinah had to first examine himself in those polished mirrors from which the kiyur was fashioned.
Perhaps this is part of our answer to that question, “Tzipisa liyeshuah?” Do we examine ourselves in the mirror? Do we check whether our words and thoughts truly reflect the longing for Kedushah that should characterize one who awaits the Beis HaMikdash?
When we study these halachos—the exact position of the Mizbeyach, the requirements for its integrity, the precise procedures of the korbanos—we are doing more than engaging in abstract legal theory. We are keeping alive the knowledge of what once was and what will be again. We are maintaining the blueprints for a future that grows closer with each daf we learn, with each mitzvah we perform, with each moment we truly yearn.
Yes, we yearn. Every day we study what we cannot yet do. Every day we remember what we cannot yet see. Every day we prepare ourselves for the moment when the Navi will come and point to that exact spot and say, “Here. This is where it belongs.”
That yearning, that limud – is our tzipisa liyeshuah. When we stand before the Heavenly Court, may we be able to say: We never forgot. We studied your laws even when we could not fulfill them. We knew exactly how the Mizbeyach should be built, even though we could not build it. We were ready.
May it be soon, in our days.
The author can be reached at [email protected]
In the Era when we lived with the first Bais Hamikdosh with the Aron, it affected our whole life. We all lived with such spirituality and righteousness. As we see in the pesukim of Tenaach.