Rabbi 360

Today we mark Tisha B’Av (“the 9th of [the month of] Av”), which marks the historic destruction of the ancient Temples in Jerusalem, as well as other calamities that were visited upon the Jewish people throughout history. As a day of mourning, it is traditionally observed in a similar manner to Yom Kippur with a day-long fast and abstaining from bathing and anointing. The liturgy includes the biblical book of Lamentations as well as kinot, mournful hymns, both read while sitting on the floor by candlelight.

It is sometimes called the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, and I admittingly have ambivalence even writing that. I sometimes tend to resent Tisha B’Av: I don’t want to feel sad during the summertime, especially since because of the interplay of the Hebrew and Gregorian calendars, it sometimes falls on or around my birthday.

[As I write this, I will admit that davka having a day of mourning during a usually warm and fun time of year is perhaps the point–Judaism has always recognized the intersection of joy and sorrow.]

Additionally, the mourning for the destruction of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem is complicated. On the one hand, according to the Jewish spiritual imagination, this was a location of deep spiritual power, where the connection between the Jewish people and God was at its most intimate. At the same time, the Temple represented a spiritual community and practice that was governed by a male hereditary hierarchy and bound to a specific location. It was after the destruction of the Temple that a new Judaism emerged that became much more democratized, favoring learning and practice that was accessible to all. Judaism as we know it truly took shape in the Diaspora after the destruction of the Temple.

Moving beyond the specifics, the theme of the day is an important one–the loss of our central institutions can have devastating results.

This idea is particularly potent this year at this time as we are seeing institutions we once assumed were stable crumbling before our eyes. The remarkable events in Israel this week are a reminder of the fragility of democracy as the ruling powers seek to weaken the judiciary in order to consolidate their own rule. Scientists are pointing out that this is the hottest month in history, with continued negative impact on human and animal life. The trampling of rights of women, the LGBTQIA+ community, immigrants, etc. continues at the highest levels of the U.S. government. Our institutions–those forces that hold us together–are breaking down rapidly.

The rabbis in the Talmud posit that one of the reasons the ancient Temple was destroyed was because of sinat hinam, often translated as “baseless hatred” or “hatred without reason.” The word hinam can also mean “free,” or “freely given.” So another way we can understand this, I would suggest, is hatred that is free, or unchecked. And if something is free or unchecked, it can grow and fester.

And that resonates with us. How many of the destructive forces that we are seeing now are the result of leaving earlier actions or ideas unchecked? The anti-democratic forces regarding the power of the judiciary in Israel is perhaps the result of the decades of acceptance and tolerance of the continued undemocratic occupation and oppression of the Palestinian people. (As well as the tolerance of the undemocratic power of the Orthodox rabbinate creating a quasi-theocracy in certain areas of Israeli life.) The climate crisis we are facing now is the result of years of neglecting or denying the impact human actions have on our environment. The backward trajectory of the Supreme Court and the sanction for hate it provides is the result of years of maneuvering and strategizing.

All of this feels overwhelming, almost to the point of asking, how can we have one day of grief when every day seems like a new opportunity to mourn the world as we know it?

So perhaps the point of Tisha B’Av is not necessarily to be a day of imposed mourning for what was lost, but a reminder that even in the wake of loss, there is the opportunity for new life. Because, as the rabbis teach in their lesson on sinat hinam, the end of our sacred places and values are not inevitable. They are the result of bad human behavior. They are the result of leaving things unchecked. They are the result of leaving things unchallenged.

And if we are able to change our behavior–to pay attention and challenge–then we are able to change–and save–our world.