Every year, just days after Tisha B’Av, when Jews mourn the destruction of the First and Second Temples, comes Shabbat Nachamu—the Sabbath of Consolation. The haftarah opens with God’s promise: “Comfort, comfort My people.” And the Torah portion is always Va’etchanan, containing perhaps the most important words in Judaism:

Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad. – Deuteronomy 6:4

The timing is remarkable.

The parasha begins with one of the Torah’s most poignant moments. Moses pleads to enter the Promised Land, but God refuses. He will see the Land from afar, yet die alone on the eastern bank of the Jordan, separated from both the land he longed to enter and the people who would continue without him. Rather than dwell on what he has lost, Moses spends his final days giving Israel what can never be taken away.

Just after today’s Jews remember what was destroyed on Tisha B’Av, the Torah turns to the covenant between God and the Jewish people.

The Shema is recited every morning upon waking and every evening before sleep, fulfilling the Torah’s command to speak these words “when you lie down and when you rise.” Many Jews have long sought to make it their final words before death. The Shema frames a Jewish life—from its first waking moments to its final conscious breath.

Before reciting its opening verse, Jews traditionally cover their eyes.

One explanation is that removing visual distractions allows the words to be heard more completely. But perhaps the custom also captures something about the moment itself.

With eyes covered, we become vulnerable. For an instant we stand alone, unable to rely on what we can see. It is precisely then that we declare: Hashem Echad—the Lord is One.

Not better than another. Not merely the only God. Simply One: singular, indivisible.

At that moment, the person saying the Shema also stands as one—alone before the One. The moment becomes a deeply personal connection; in Genesis, created in the image of God, and today, retiring together with God.

That may be the deepest consolation after Tisha B’Av.

Enormous empires destroyed the Temple and powerful armies scattered the Jewish people. Yet they could not destroy the simple words Moses taught. They are still whispered every morning, every night, before sleep and, if blessed, with a final breath.

Judaism is designed to be a humble faith, one in which individuals know that their God is not only there to empower them when they need to fight, but console them when they are bereft and alone.

Shabbat Nachamu reminds us that consolation does not begin with rebuilt stones or a visit to Moses’ gravesite. It begins with a people who still know they can close their eyes and connect with God as they say Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad.