... Tishah B'Av ...

... Recommend this holiday to a friend.

In a formal sense, Tishah B'Av is observed as a fast day sometime in August. You might note that many of our holidays are determined by the lunar calendar. Anyway, Tishah B'Av is a day for remembering and, therefore, for mourning over the Destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.

It was destroyed first by the Babylonians, in 586 B.C.E. (before the common era), and the second time by the Romans, in the 70 C.E. (common era). But somehow, in the imaginative thinking of the folk, which has been macerated by the memories of many national disasters, the Ninth of Av also became a grim symbol ... a kind of reservoir into which were poured all the misfortunes of the Jews in their history.

Therefore, the Mishna (the code of Oral Laws) added to the commemoration of the Destruction of the two Temples the tragic events that followed the Bar Kochba revolt in 135; the death of Bar Kochba and the butchery by the Romans of his followers three years later, climaxed by the "plowing up" of Jerusalem by order of the vindictive Roman emperor Hadrian.

During the Middle Ages, still other historic misfortunes were added to the ever growing list: the death of the Ten Martyrs (among whom were the 'Rabbinic Sages Akiba, Ishmael, and Chanina ben Teradion) at the time of Hadrian's persecution; the expulsion of the Jews from England in 1290, and from Spain in 1492, and the massacres carried out during the Crusades and by the maniacal master-butcher Rindfleisch (and early German prototype of Hitler) in 1298.

An interesting observation here, if we may back up, is to note that on the very day that thousands of Jews were moving past the boats in Spain, three small ships were setting sail to discover a land that was to become the haven for the second largest Jewish population today, and a refuge (for those living here) from the massacres during the Second World War. The hand of G-d works in mysterious ways.

To return from our digression, this Rabbinic saying, and the variants of it, became proverbial: "He who does not mourn over the Destruction of Zion will not live to see her joy." But merely formal grief had no meaning; it was frowned upon as a spurious kind of commemoration. Long remembered, therefore, by Jews was the inquiry that was made of the Prophet Zechariah in 516 B.C.E. , only seventy years after the Destruction of the First Temple. He was asked: "Should I weep [on Tishah B'Av]?"

The Prophet's reply was withering: When his questioner fasted and mourned on Tishah B'Av, did he do so for G-d's sake or for his own benefit? Rather than making a display of that kind of grief (i.e. fasting and lamenting), counseled Zechariah, true piety required that one should act justly, "show mercy, and compassion by every man to his brother; and oppress not the widow nor the fatherless, the stranger nor the poor."

Tishah B'Av has all the characteristics of shivah (the mourning period for the dead). Prohibited on Tishah B'Av are bathing, eating, drinking, laughter, conversation, and beautifying oneself. As the mourners enter the synagogue they take off their shoes; they seat themselves on low stools, on overturned benches, or on the floor. No greetings are exchanged. The parochet (the decorative curtain over the Ark) is removed before the holiday as unseemly for the sober occasion; frequently, a drape of black cloth is substituted for it.

The only light in the synagogue comes from the Ner Tamid (Eternal Lamp), which, hanging before the Ark, casts its gloomy flicker on the congregation, and the one recitation, in a subdued minor, is from the Biblical Book of Lamentations. Its stirring dirges, implausibly attributed to the authorship of the Prophet Jeremiah, no doubt must have been composed by eyewitnesses of the Destruction of the First Temple on the Ninth of Av, in 586 B.C.E.

In addition, kinnot (liturgical elegies; s. kinnah) of medieval composition are recited. These poems, outpourings of the millennial grief of the Jews, while sounding harsh, self-tormenting tonalities, are compensated for by a noble, Job-like melancholy. One of the most affecting of these dirges is that about the Prophet Jeremiah, who makes an impassioned plea to the three Patriarchs, the four Matriarchs, to Moses and Aaron, and to other eminences that they intercede with G-d on behalf of desolated Zion, and afflicted Israel.

It is customary on Tishah B'Av for those Jews who follow tradition and believe in Zechut Avot ... "the Merit of the Fathers" ... to pray beside the graves of their ancestors and those of illustrious rabbis. They repeat the Prophet Jeremiah's plea for the hastening of Israel's restoration and the rebuilding of Zion in the days of the Moshiach (Messiah). When that happy event occurs (the Talmudic Sages comfort the people) then Tishah B'Av will be transformed fom a day of mourning into a day of rejoicing.

SOME BACKGROUND TO TISHAH B'AV

The Torah (Numbers 13-14) describes the famous story of the 12 spies - one from each tribe - who are sent into Israel to explore the land. Their mission seems rather innocuous at first: Determine how to battle the Cananites and then settle three million men, women and children in the new land. The spies are sent (ostensibly) to survey practical matters like fortification of the cities, geography of the land, opportunities for farming and commerce, the best access routes, etc.

In Israel, G-d shows them encouraging signs that the land is indeed plentiful and rich: They find a cluster of grapes so enormous that eight men are needed to carry it (Numbers 13:23). G-d also makes sure the spies encounter heavily fortified Cananite cities - which in fact is a sign of Cananite weakness, since anyone who is truly powerful does not have to hide behind big walls. (See Rashi on 13:19.)

Additionally, G-d planned the death of a Cananite nobleman to coincide with the spies' visit, in order tobusy the locals with funeral arrangements and mourning – as a way to divert their attention from the reconnaissance mission! Everything was perfectly orchestrated; nothing could possibly go wrong.

Yet somehow, things do go wrong. After forty days, the spies come back and recommend against entering the land. They report: "We can't succeed because everything is huge!" - a reference to the gigantic fruits. "We can't succeed because the land devours its inhabitants!" - a reference to the funeral. "And we can't succeed because it's too strong!" - a reference to the heavily fortified walls. (See Numbers 13:31-33.)

The Israelite community accepts the report, and gives up their dream of going into Israel. The consequence? If you don't want to enter the land, says G-d, then you won't enter the land. All Israelites will die out over the next 40 years in the desert, and only their children will enter the land.

Numbers 14:1 tells us the people's reaction to this news: "The people wept that night." That night was Tisha B'Av, the 9th day of the Jewish month of Av. G-d declared: "They cried for no reason; in the future I'll give them good reason to cry."

Hundreds of years later, the destruction of the First Temple was to occur on Tisha B'Av. And 500 years after that, the Second Temple was destroyed on Tisha B'Av as well.

WHAT WENT WRONG?

The spies lost their anchor. They got so wrapped up in the pragmatics of conquering the land, that they took G-d out of the equation - and never put Him back in! The original question they'd been assigned to answer - "How to conquer the land" - suddenly became a question of "should we or shouldn't we."

G-d's presence was palpable in the desert: a rock provided a steady supply of water, Clouds of Glory kept enemies at bay, and a daily supply of manna fell from heaven. Yet these "open miracles" were to cease upon entry into Israel. Thus, the spies reasoned, G-d's guidance and protection would cease as well.

From this skewed perspective, all the positive signs that G-d had shown them - the fruits, the funeral and the city walls - were turned into negatives. From a purely pragmatic perspective, their conclusion was - not surprisingly – "This is not possible!"

Moses, being the great leader that he was, knew that the spies were susceptible to losing their anchor. So before they departed on their mission, he changed the name of one of the spies from "Hoshea" to "Yehoshua" (Joshua). The name "Yehoshua" means "G-d will save." It also begins with the letters of G-d's Name - Yud and Heh. This was Moses' attempt to keep the spies focused on that crucial transcendent connection.

To some extent, Moses was successful; Joshua was one of two spies who protested the negative report - and was rewarded with entry into the land.

THE CRUCIAL CONNECTION

This dynamic can appear in our own lives as well.

Each of us has a "life vision." The Torah teaches that when one's "vision" is driven by a connection with G-d, then the ability to achieve transcends all boundaries. Since G-d can do anything, all success depends only on His will.

Without that connection, one's ability to achieve is defined by mortal limitations. It is logical, therefore, to assume that many goals are not possible. Hence the origin of the popular expression, "I can't do it; it's not possible."

Be it needn't be that way. Living in accordance with the will of G-d gives one the confidence to know that the more you are connected, the greater will be your degree of transcendence. And then, anything is possible.

Our nation has seen that G-d can do anything. When the Israeli armed forces defeated Arab armies in a scant Six Days, we knew quite clearly that we'd exceeded our mortal limitations.

The incident of the spies took place on Tisha B'Av. Unfortunately, it is a recurring theme in Jewish history: We lose sight of our connection to G-d, forfeit that anchor, and descend into a mode of finger-pointing, arguments, excuses, and ultimately, national suicide.

Time will tell whether we find our anchor, get on track, and succeed in building a national Jewish consciousness that can stand up against the forces which lure us away from our vision and dream.