Tzipisah le’yeshu’ah is a very hard mitzvah. Rashi himself points out that in common speech, when a person wants to say “not for a long, long time,” he says “when Moshiach comes.” How, then, can we hope to see Moshiach, how can we hope that our behavior will bring Moshiach, when so many generations of kedoshim and tehorim davenned, cried, and were martyred for their hopes and beliefs, and nothing happened?
I asked Reb Moshe this question, and he said that it could be that tefilloh is incremental, and with the addition of our tefillos, we will reach the level needed to be zocheh to bi’as Moshiach.
I later thought about another answer to this question. Think about Medinas Yisroel. For thousands of years, the idea that we would create an independent state in the land of our forefathers was a fool’s fantasy. We hoped, at best, to survive and live a decent life where we were, and if anyone would say that we would create our own state, with its own army, they would be seen as a delusional dreamer. But along came the Zionists, and whether we like to admit it or not, the majority of the really effective Zionists were kofrim be’ikor, sone’ei Torah, rotzchim, communists and socialists, and they made a stand, they had the chutzpa and courage to say that they will live and die for this dream, and they did it. They made what had been undreamt of for millenia into a reality. They acccomplished something unparalleled by any other ethnic group since the world was created, and they did it with a beaten, hopeless, bedraggled people for whom simple survival was taxing enough.
So why can’t we learn from them? Why can’t we do in ruchnius what they did in gashmius? If they were motivated by nationalism, by ethnic pride, by dreams of a socialist utopia for Jews, why can’t we be equally motivated by our dream of Bi’as Hamoshiach? They brought us the Guf, why can’t we bring the Neshomo? If we would lay our lives on the line, live our lives with laser-like focus on the one overarching purpose of bringing hashro’as hashechina back to Klal Yisroel, who says we couldn’t do it? The gzeiras golus that prevented us from coming back to the land is no stronger than the gzeiras golus of ruchnius. If they could do it with kefira and retzicha and achzorius, we can do at least as well with ruchnius, and ahavoh, and emunoh and bitochon.
And don’t think that there is a difference between conquering a land and bringing Moshiach. Just as the land is sitting there for the taking, if one is innovative and courageous and willing to sacrifice and unwilling to accept “the way things are,” so, too Moshiach is here, waiting for us to deserve his disclosure. There is an individual in every generation that is worthy to be the moshiach and is ready to take that role if the generation merits. ( Chasam Sofer, in the Likutim printed in the Choshen Mishpot volume, DH Hareini Nozir, #98. See also S'dei Chemed, Pe'as HaSedeh, Ma'ereches Alef, principle 70.)
And Achav has a lesson for us as well. Reb Meir Simcha, in his pirush on Parshas Beshalach, tells us that the generation of Achav was blessed with peace and tranquility because, although they were idolators who violently suppressed the Torah, they never said lashon hara and they were open handed and open hearted to the downtrodden and the poor.
I have been told that there is something for everyone in the above words-- that it is guaranteed to offend everyone, from Meretz to Neturei Karta, from the Gush to Villyamsburg. But that's why essayists, from Thomas Paine to today, found it prudent to publish anonymously. You can dislike the manner of expression, but at least think about the underlying idea.