‘The Festival of the 9th of Av’ Parashat Devarim 5786
Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the month of Av, is the saddest day in the Jewish calendar. It is the culmination of a three-week period of mourning, commemorating an array of tragedies that have befallen the Jewish People over the years, the most notable of which were the destruction of both the First and Second Holy Temples (Beit HaMikdash) and the subsequent loss of sovereignty and exile. And yet, the Prophet Jeremiah, who witnessed the destruction of the First Temple, refers to Tisha B’Av as [Lamentations 1:15] “a holiday (mo’ed)”. The word “mo’ed” usually means “festival of joy”, putting Tisha b’Av on the same footing as Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot. This definition has halachic ramifications. For instance, unlike every other fast day, we do not recite selichot on Tisha b’Av. What exactly are we celebrating?
A potential answer lies at the core of the “Startup Nation”. Israel is known as the Startup Nation because its culture of ingenuity, entrepreneurship, and problem-solving has enabled it to produce a remarkable number of innovative companies and technologies relative to its size. Why has Israel given the world Waze, Iron Dome, high-energy laser weapons, and the Disk On Key, while countries with similar populations and greater resources have not? My experience leads me to believe that it is our willingness to fail. We plan our flight tests at the ragged edge of the envelope to see what our systems are really capable of. And if they fail, we find out why and make the necessary corrections so we can stretch the system even further. Compare this with Eastern culture, where the concept of “losing face” discourages any kind of failure. There, weapon systems are tested in impossible-to-fail scenarios[1], after which everyone can go home happy that they are not the ones being blamed for a missile that missed its target. Only a country willing to fail is willing to learn, and only a country willing to learn will thrive. Each time we lost our sovereignty, we learnt a lesson. The Second Temple was not destroyed for the same reason as the First Temple[2] and the Third Temple will be even more robust – it will last forever. This is what we celebrate on Tisha b’Av.
This hypothesis has a firm basis in Scripture. The prophet Jeremiah [30:7] says, “It is a time of distress for Jacob, and from it he will be saved.” The Baal Shem Tov[3] reads this literally: Salvation comes from within the distress itself. If you are going through a difficult time, don’t just wish it away. Lean into it. Stare it in the face. Experience it fully. Because “from it [you] will be saved”. The blessing hides within the curse.
Let’s continue further down this path. A famous story is related in the Talmud in Tractate Makkot [24b]: Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues saw foxes running through the ruins of the Temple Mount. They cried and he laughed. They asked him why he was laughing and he asked why they were crying. “Such a holy place that has been so devastated, and we shouldn’t cry?” they answered. Rabbi Akiva responded: “It is for that reason that I laugh”. The Talmud explains that Rabbi Akiva’s strange behaviour stemmed from his bearing witness to the destruction that was prophesied. If the prophecies of doom came to fruition, he thought, how much more so would the prophecies of comfort: The Temple would one day be rebuilt and [Zachariah 8:4] “Old men and women would walk the streets of Jerusalem”. Rabbi Yehuda Amital[4] explains that Rabbi Akiva possessed a deeper historical awareness than his colleagues. Someone who lacks historical awareness, who sees only the present and is cut off from the past, is incapable of seeing the future and therefore perceives even the present in a distorted way. Rabbi Akiva saw beyond the desolation of today and could therefore see the redemption of tomorrow.
But it goes beyond that. Human beings have a remarkable capability to adapt. After a period of adjustment, a new reality becomes the norm. Many laws regarding death and mourning are based upon the natural gradual subsiding of grief which occurs after the death of a close relative. The Talmud in Tractate Moed Katan [27b] offers an explanation of a verse in Jeremiah [22:10]: “Do not cry for the dead nor lament for him”. The Talmud rules that one should not mourn excessively or more than is appropriate. Three days are set aside for crying, seven for eulogies (shiva) and for thirty days (sheloshim) the mourner refrains from ironing his clothes or cutting his hair. “From that point onwards G-d says [as it were], ‘Are you more merciful than I?’” This is the source of the normative halacha as proscribed by the Rambam [Laws of Mourning 13:10-11]: “One does not cry for the dead for more than three days, and he is not eulogized for more than seven days… A person should not be distressed more than is appropriate over the dead, for death is [part of] the way of the world, and a person who distresses himself more than is the way of the world is foolish…” The Talmudic principle [Pesachim 54b] “The dead are forgotten from the heart” does not mean that we forget those we have lost. Rather, it teaches that G-d mercifully allows the sharp pain of grief to lessen over time so that mourners can continue living their lives. The memory, influence, and love of the deceased remain, even as the sorrow gradually softens.
As far as a relative is concerned, this is a blessing, but as far as the Holy Temple is concerned, this is a problem. The disasters of Tisha b’Av occurred so long ago. Why don’t we allow our sorrow to fade? The answer is that if we no longer mourn, if we no longer actively grieve, if we learn to live without, then we will never have what it takes to rebuild. Enter Tisha b’Av. When Napoleon attempted to capture Acre in 1799, he encountered a group of Jews weeping bitterly. Assuming they were mourning his conquest, he sent aides to investigate. They returned and explained that it was Tisha b’Av and the Jews were mourning the destruction of Jerusalem nearly two thousand years earlier. Napoleon reportedly remarked that a nation capable of remembering its past with such intensity would one day see that history restored. Rabbi Zephaniah Drori, the former Rabbi of Kiryat Shemona, uses this story to offer a twist on the story of the foxes. Rabbi Akiva was laughing because the others were crying. Because there are Jews who mourn the destruction of the Temple and are moved to tears when seeing foxes roam the place of the Holy Temple, then the Redemption is already on its way.
The Talmud in Tractate Ta’anit [30b] says: “Whoever mourns over Jerusalem will merit and see its rebuilding”. This begs a question: Too many people over the last two thousand years have sincerely wept over the destruction of Jerusalem, and yet have left the world without witnessing its rebuilding. The answer is that the mourning over the destruction of Jerusalem is the first tangible step in its rebuilding. Note that the Talmud in its original Hebrew does not use the words in the future tense “Will merit (yizkeh) and will see (yir’eh) its redemption”, but rather uses the present tense “Merits (zokheh) and sees (v’ro’eh) its redemption”. Through those very tears, the process of redemption has already begun, just as G-d promised.
Now we can understand why Jeremiah called Tisha B’Av “a festival”. Our Sages in the Midrash [Lamentations Rabbah 1:16] assert that “The Messiah will be born on Tisha B’Av”. In light of the above, this does not mean that the Messiah is physically born on Tisha B’Av. Rather, “the Messiah” is an allusion to our redemption, which is born out of our mourning on Tisha B’Av. It is precisely our continued observance and mourning that will bring the Messiah, who will rebuild the Beit HaMikdash, ingather the exiles, and return a sovereign Israel to its former glory, speedily in our days, Amen.
Shabbat Shalom,
Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5786
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Rachel bat Malka, Iris bat Chana, Sheindel Devora bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Meir ben Drora, Golan ben Marcelle and Hodayah Emunah bat Shoshana Rachel.
[1] The U.S, also typically tests weapon systemin the middle of the envelope, but for different reasons.
[2] The First Temple was destroyed because of Murder, Adultery, and Idolatry. The Second Temple was destroyed because of hatred and infighting.
[3] Israel ben Eliezer, known as the “Baal Shem Tov” or the “Besht”, who lived in Poland in the 18th century, was the founding father of Hassidism.
[4] Rabbi Amital was the Dean of the prestigious Har Etzion Yeshiva from 1968-2010.
