What Is Love?

Tonight begins the not-widely-observed Jewish holiday of Tu B’Av, a day with origins in ancient Jewish celebrations of courtship that’s more commonly been simplified as the Jewish day of love. And, while referring to Tu B’Av as “the Jewish Valentine’s Day” would be as flawed as referring to Purim as “the Jewish Halloween” or “the Jewish Mardi Gras,” common observances of dinners or flowers or candies may not be entirely different.

For me, there’s a special beauty in Tu B’Av, our day of love, coming just days after Tisha B’Av, one of our greatest days of sadness and mourning. Just as the cycle of civic holidays in the spring, from Yom HaShoah to Yom HaZikaron to Yom Ha’Atzmaut, tells a story of how tragedy turns to sacrifice and then to triumph, the cycle from Tisha B’Av to Tu B’Av reminds us how sadness can turn into love.

But what does that really mean? What, indeed, is love?

There are, of course, various kinds of love, but I would suggest there’s a common thread in the way we love living beings (as opposed to, for example, my love of kugel).

While my love for my children, my grandchildren, my bashert, and even my dog manifests itself differently, it is rooted in a set of common instincts. I want to care for them. I want to protect them. I want to stand beside them. I want to defend them. And I want to lift them up. (Yes, even the dog, despite the inevitable face-licking.)

And that kind of love extends far beyond the people we know personally. It includes loving the Jewish people. Loving all people. Loving animals. Loving the Earth itself.

It is why, when we see people enduring nightly missile attacks in Sumy, Ukraine, or trying to rebuild after devastating earthquakes in Venezuela, our instinct is not simply to feel sadness. It is to respond with urgency and love.

As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. taught, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” Tu B’Av reflects a similar truth within the Jewish tradition: that after heartbreak can come healing, after division can come reconciliation, and that love has the power to renew both individuals and communities.

That’s why, when I thank a supporter of World Jewish Relief for enabling us to make impact, whether in Ukraine, Venezuela, Mozambique, or well over a dozen other countries where we are lifting up people facing crisis, I thank them for entrusting us to steward their generosity not only thoughtfully, accountably, and impactfully, but also lovingly. Because humanitarian work isn’t simply an act of generosity. At its heart, it’s an act of love.

As we mark Tu B’Av, whether it’s part of your tradition or something you’ve just learned about while reading this, I invite you to celebrate love, not only for those closest to you, but also for those whose names you may never know.

May they be cared for, protected, defended, and uplifted. And may we always feel inspired to transform moments of sadness into acts of love.