Last week I found myself conversing with several non-Jewish European fellows in their mid twenties. These people were fascinated with meeting a religious person who actually explained in a sensible and palatable manner the various practices and rituals that strike them and their peers as being archaic, obsolete, and outlandish. Over the course of our conversations, I was asked to explain the Jewish holidays. When I reached the commemoration of the saddest day of the Jewish calendar, Tishah B’Av, the ninth of Av, I raised the following questions: Are the Jewish People so out of touch with contemporary reality that they still cry over the loss of a Temple built out of sticks and stones which was destroyed nearly two thousand years ago? What are we really commemorating on Tisha B’Av? Is it possible that there are people who are so stuck in the past that the destruction of the Temple is a reality for them today?
Perhaps there is a more fundamental question. The role of depression and sadness in Judaism is relegated to foreign worship, and Divine Spirit is only manifest among glad spirited individuals. Accordingly, what role does the sadness of the past destruction play in our current lives?
The Talmud informs us that if the Temple is not rebuilt in our lifetime, we are considered as having destroyed the Temple. The Midrash explains that had we rectified the sins of the past, the Temple would be rebuilt. It follows that we are still perpetrating those very misdeeds which caused the destruction in the first place, and the fact that the Temple has not been rebuilt reflects on our sins which would have destroyed the Temple had it been standing.
In this week’s haftorah, we read the Vision of Isaiah. Although the term vision connotes an extremely harsh form of prophesy, nevertheless we are still called children of G-d. Sure we strayed very far, but we have not lost the honorific of being G-d’s child. Although we are in the midst of the three-week period of mourning, on Shabbos all mourning is suspended. We eat meat and drink wine, sing songs, and engage in festivities.
What is so unique about Shabbos? Shabbos is the time when we reflect on the first sin of mankind: Adam and Eve’s indulgence in the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. Adam was despondent and he chanced upon Cain walking in the Garden. Cain was whistling hava nagila (or a similar primordial top klezmer hit) and did not seem to be bothered by his latest murder escapade. Visibly shocked, Adam reprimanded him for his callousness. Cain replied that he already repented and is back in G-d’s good graces. Thereupon Adam began singing “Mizmor shir liyom haShabbos,” the psalm of Shabbos. Adam understood that Shabbos represents our connection to G-d. He was blown away that the relationship with G-d is such that we can apologize and come back together. He therefore connected this concept to Shabbos. The reason is that Shabbos is a time when we reflect on our true relationship and connection with G-d. At the conclusion of Shabbos, we gaze at our fingernails which remind us of Adam’s banishment from the Garden of Eden. We begin Shabbos with Adam’s return to G-d, and we end Shabbos with the reality that another week is arriving during which we must strive to reconnect to G-d amidst the mundane reality of contemporary society.
Tisha B’Av is the day of reflecting how far we have grown apart from G-d, and Shabbos is the day when we reflect on our connection. Tisha B’Av is not merely a day of the past; it is a day of the present and future. We reflect on our honeymoon period with G-d, and then flashback to the big flare up which resulted in the destruction of the Temple. Now we enter marriage counseling to come back together. Divorce is not an option. We are always connected to G-d. It is up to us to make amends. G-d wants us back and still refers to us as His children, now we must go halfway and do our part.
None other than Napoleon understood the very connection that we have to G-d. Napoleon was walking through the streets of Paris one Tisha B'Av. As his entourage passed a synagogue he heard wailing and crying coming from within; he sent an aide to inquire as to what had happened. The aide returned and told Napoleon that the Jews were in mourning over the loss of their Temple. Napoleon was indignant! "Why wasn't I informed? When did this happen? Which Temple?" The aide responded, "They lost their Temple in Jerusalem on this date 1,700 years ago." Totally amazed by the phenomenon that he witnessed before his very eyes, Napoleon exclaimed: “any nation that can retain such a fierce love and loyalty for a Holy site that they’ve never seen that was so far away, and for so long, is destined for greatness and will outlive us all!”
But you know, for all of the tears that we shed on Tisha B’Av, G-d is the one who is crying (kaviyochol) the most. This is best illustrated by the following Chassidic story:
A group of children were outside playing a game of hide and seek. One of the little boys hid behind a tree and waited to be found. He waited and he waited and he waited, but no one appeared! In exasperation he ran inside wailing and told his mother: “we were playing hide and seek. I was hiding but no one was seeking!”
G-d is in hiding. Let us seek him. Let us build a relationship with Him, and let this Tisha B’Av be our last one of crying. The misdeed of the past is our lack of a wholesome relationship with G-d. Let us resolve to return to G-d. Let us witness the transformation of Tisha B’Av into a holiday of festivity on which the Messiah is born, and on which our marriage to G-d is renewed. Let us not cry over the past, let us cry over our present disconnect, and let us resolve to reconnect, reignite, and recreate ourselves. If you want to become a happy person, cry on Tisha B’Av, and reconnect to G-d. There is no greater happiness.
