And Moshe was angry with the officers, the captains over thousands, and captains over hundreds, who came from the battle. (Bamidbar 31:14)

The particular war with Midyan was waged to avenge those who caused klal Yisrael to sin with immorality. Klal Yisrael understood they had sinned, they repented, and then Hashem commanded them to go to war. One would think that anyone involved in this truly holy war would be far removed from repeating the same sin again. Yet the Gemora (Shabbos 64a) tells us of a conversation between Moshe and the leaders of the troops. After the war the officers brought an atonement offering and Moshe asked them, “Did you sin again?” To which they responded, “Not a single individual transgressed.” Moshe Rabbeinu then asked, “If so, why do you need an atonement?” To which they answered, “Though no one sinned, some have had thoughts of sinning.”

I remember in my yeshiva days, the mashgiach gave that famous talk about how after ne’ila when we just yelled out “Shema Yisrael…Hashem Hu HaElokim…” we immediately revert back to the weekday stance and say, “Vehu rachum Yechaper Avon” (He is the Merciful One who forgives iniquity…). The question is obvious: What sins have we done while we were on such a high level immediately after Yom Kippur? The mashgiach answered, “You were thinking about the chocolate cake that you were going to eat right after maariv.” In other words, one could be at the highest of levels and the yetzer hara could still finagle his way in and cause one to have the basest thoughts (even worse than chocolate cake).

So how does one handle such a situation? I believe that this gemora is showing us the proper approach. One should not say that there is something wrong with me, rather one should recognize and admit that this duality exists in us, and therefore we need an atonement for the negative side.

But if one is only punished for committing the actual sin, why would atonement be needed in the case of the troops’ thoughts – or the chocolate cake thoughts? The answer is that while it is true that the letter of the law was not broken, the fact that someone would consider it shows a lack of allegiance.

I would like to apply this concept to a kind of contradiction which we find amongst many people these days. We all know that the Three Weeks is a time to mourn the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, and perhaps we even feel sorry or abandoned for not having the Divine Presence reside amongst us. Yet, at the same time, one could wonder, “Does it really have to interfere with my shower schedule, my vacation schedule, or my music playlist?” Though we may know that those thoughts are wrong, they still creep up in some people’s minds.

Someone approached Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld (1848-1932) while he was near the Temple Mount and asked him regarding Tikun Chatzos. The siddur instructs one to cry for 30 minutes over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash before continuing on with the appropriate prayers. “How do you turn on the faucet and automatically start crying?” Reb Yosef Chaim looked at the Kosel and immediately burst into tears; after some time, he was able to regain his composure and responded, “I don’t understand your question. If one just thinks about the destruction, how can one not cry? The reason we don’t cry all day is because we have other things that preoccupy our minds, which cause us to stop crying.” In other words, if it is potent enough, one can’t get it out of his mind. The reason why we have these urges for vacation and music is that our mind is not engaged in Churban as it should be.

I personally knew a woman who had virtually the same sentiment as Reb Yosef Chaim. She got off the jet plane to visit her ailing mother and found out that her mother had passed away while she was in flight. Someone asked her, “Perhaps you would like to take a shower after your long flight before going to the funeral?” To this she replied, “My mother is not even buried, and I should pamper myself with a shower?” (Speak to your local Orthodox Rabbi about the permissibility of showering before a funeral.)

If we truly internalized that Hashem is homeless and that His name is constantly being desecrated because of our deeds, I believe it would remove the desire for those petty things and even put a taste of sand in our mouths. We would certainly not be asking our Rabbis for leniencies regarding the mourning we are going through.

May we merit that our pre-Tisha b’Av mourning and our true desire for the Moshiach, turn this Tisha b’Av into the ultimate Yom Tov.