Jews gather at the Western Wall in Jerusalem at the end of Tisha B’Av fast, Aug. 13, 2024. Photo courtesy of Chaim Goldberg/Flash90.
JNS
We have feasts, and we have fasts. There are times in the Jewish calendar designated as chagim, or “festivals,” to celebrate all the miraculous triumphs of our glorious history. But there are also times when we remember the sad events of the past. Yes, we’ve been blessed with many reasons to celebrate our people’s victories and deliverances, but we continue to remember the unhappy times, too.
Why Revisit?
We find ourselves now in the nine-day period leading up to Tisha B’Av, our national day of mourning, recalling the destruction of our Holy Temples in Jerusalem by the Babylonians and the Romans, respectively. Starting this year on Saturday night, Aug. 2, and continuing until Aug. 3 at night, we will sit on low chairs in the manner of Jewish mourners sitting shiva. We will fast and pray for the complete restoration of Jerusalem to all her former glory.
We Jews don’t forget. True, the world cannot understand why we go on about the Holocaust—and that was only 80 years ago! For more than 19 centuries, we have been remembering and observing Tisha B’Av; it has become the saddest day in our calendar. But why? Why not let bygones be bygones? It’s history. What was, was. Why keep revisiting old and painful visions?
They say that Napoleon Bonaparte was once passing through the Jewish ghetto in Paris, and heard sounds of crying and wailing emanating from a synagogue. He stopped to ask what the lament was about. He was told that the Jews were remembering the destruction of their Temple. “When did it happen?” asked the emperor. “Some 1,700 years ago,” was the answer he received. Whereupon Napoleon stated with conviction that a people who never forget their past are destined to forever have a future.
Not So Independent!
Then again, people wonder why we are mourning the destruction of Jerusalem when today we are blessed to have a beautiful, united Jerusalem in the sovereign State of Israel. We can pray at the Western Wall and now even ascend the Temple Mount! (Whether we should or not is for a different discussion.)
So let me explain. Galut, the Hebrew word for our long and bitter exile, is not the same as the word “diaspora.” Galut is not only geographical but mental. It affects people living in the Old City of Jerusalem, too, and even those who can look out their window and see the Western Wall.
Are we as independent as we like to think? Yes, thank God, we do have a sovereign Jewish state, but can we operate as freely and independently as we would like to? What about Gaza? Look at how we are fighting with our hands tied behind our backs and even forced to feed our enemies. It is practically unheard of in the annals of warfare.
What about our desperate hostages whom we cannot rescue? In 1976, we freed our captives in Entebbe, Uganda—thousands of miles away—and today, we cannot save our people just around the corner! What about world opinion and its effect on our national policies? What about France? These days, we cannot even rely on our “friends.”
As much as we are grateful for our sovereignty, the hard reality is that we cannot operate as independently as we would like.
So come this Tisha B’Av, Jews at the Western Wall will sit down and mourn in the same manner as Jews in the daspora. We will pray for the coming of Moshiach and the full national redemption of the Jewish people. We will pray that there shouldn’t only be one Western Wall, but the other three walls as well, and all the sacred services inside those walls with the Beit Hamikdash, the Temple, rebuilt in all its former glory.
Let The Grief End
Personally, as a rabbi, I’m tired of having to explain pain and suffering philosophically. Yes, there are all kinds of explanations. It builds our strength and resilience. We cannot possibly understand the mysteries of the universe. There is an invisible, long-term, higher plan which, in time, will finally be seen and perceived. The long and bitter exile is somehow a necessary preparation to bring the world to its ultimate purpose. And so on. But I don’t want to have to explain the agony. I’d rather see the ecstasy. Let there finally be an end to grief and hardship. Let it all end, once and for all time, and we won’t have to philosophize.
The other day, I was interviewed on a local radio program about the “Nine Days” and this period of mourning. At the end of the discussion, I asked: What’s the bottom line? What’s the solution to all the problems of anti-Semitism, and how can we stop losing our youngest and finest in this seemingly never-ending war? How, in fact, can we end all kinds of Jewish pain and suffering around the world?
When Moshiach comes and brings our national redemption, not only will our Holy Temple be rebuilt in Jerusalem, but it will also usher in a new age of Divine Revelation, of universal awareness of the presence of God in the world. That presence and mastery of creation will be clear and tangible. Then, the Jewish people’s role in the world will be better understood, accepted, respected and even admired.
This Saturday night and Sunday, we will refrain from restaurants and recreation, from sports and celebrations. But let’s not only mourn. Let’s pray for the ultimate answer and the resolution to all our challenges. May the Temple be rebuilt speedily in our days. Amen.
