In August, 1967, just two months after the Six Day War, David Hartman walked into the Montreal shul where he served as rabbi. He saw the congregation seated on the floor, reciting kinot, mournful dirges composed for this mournful day and he said to his congregation, “Jews are happy, Jews are dancing today in Yerushalayim.” And he left shul, took his family to the Laurentian Mountains, and enjoyed a picnic lunch.
That same August of 1967 a young Rabbi Haskel Lookstein was visiting Israel for the first time since the Six Day War and spent Tisha b’Av in the shul of Rav Shlomo Goren. Rav Goren eventually became the Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Israel but in 1967 he was the rabbi of the Israeli Army. It was Rav Goren who raced to Har HaBayit after it was captured by Israeli soldiers. It was Rav Goren blowing shofar at the kotel that was heard on Israeli radios across the country.1
Rabbi Lookstein has written that as the morning progressed, Rav Goren’s shul gradually emptied. Having tasted redemption just weeks earlier, the worshippers had no patience for mourning and fasting. When Rav Lookstein eventually left the shul himself, he found the streets of Tel Aviv filled with revelers and rejoicing.
How do we relate to Tisha B’Av in a world where we have access to Yerushalayim? What is the meaning of Tisha b’Av when Jews here in America live in peace and freedom and Jews around the world who are in danger can find refuge and safety in Israel?
I suspect that many of us do not experience the absence of the Beit HaMikdash in our daily lives. It isn’t a central idea in our minds and therefore its absence isn’t felt.
Just after Tisha B’Av of 1967, Rav Soloveitchik delivered his annual Teshuva Drasha. I quoted a portion of that drasha last Shabbat and I’m going to read another portion today:
…One is indeed on a great spiritual level if he desires to pray at the Kotel Hamaarovi. But many mistakenly believe that the significance of the victory lies more in regaining the Kotel Hamaarovi than the fact that 2 million Jews were saved, and that the Malkhut Yisrael was saved. Because really, a Jew does not need the Kotel Hamaarovi to be lifnei Hashem. Naturally, mikdash has a separate kedusha which is lifnei Hashem. But there is a lifnei Hashem which spreads out over the entire world, wherever a Jew does not sin, wherever a Jew learns Torah, wherever a Jew does mitzvos,…through the entire world.2
If it is possible to be Lifnei Hashem to be in God’s very presence anywhere on Earth. Why then should we mourn the loss of the Beit HaMikdash? We mourn because we don’t live our lives Lifnei Hashem.
Living Lifnei Hashem means that we see the Tzelem Elokim, the image of God in the face of every person we encounter. The more different they are from us, the greater significance to the Tzelem Elokim that we share. If we have nothing else in common with someone, their Tzelem Elokim is our only bond.
Living Lifnei Hashem means that we experience tefilah, the opportunity to open a siddur and to initiate a dialogue with god as a glorious opportunity and not a burden. And prayer with a minyan as a privilege rather than a chore. We are mourning on Tisha b’Av for our own lives and our own missed potential to live Lifnei Hashem. It isn’t the absence of the temple per se that makes us sad, but rather it is what the absence of the Temple signifies about our lives and our communities.
Rabbi David Hartman told the story of his first Tisha B’Av after the Six Day War many times over the following decades after he left the shul and moved to Yerushalayim to establish the Machon, the institute named in honor of his parents. One year, when he told this story, one of the members of the audience piped up and asked, “what did you do the following year?” The following year, he went to shul and recited kinot with everyone else.
Rabbi Lookstein continued to wonder about the relevance of Tisha b’Av until he attended a shiur in 1968 by Rav Soloveitchik on the very topic. Rav Soloveitchik explained three reasons why Tisha b’Av needs to be remembered and commemorated even today.
Hayav Adam Lirot et Atzmo k’illu Hu Yatza M’Mitzrayim. Every Jew must see himself and see herself as though he or she personally left Egypt. We don’t rejoice on Pesach because our ancestors left Egypt centuries ago. We rejoice on Pesach because we left Egypt. We don’t mourn on Tisha b’Av because of what happened to our ancestors. We mourn on Tisha b’Av out of a full identification with the tragic destruction of Yerushalayim and the devastation of her people.
Second, Rav Solovetichik taught that Tisha b’Av was observed while the Second Temple stood. The anniversary of the destruction of the first temple was commemorated while the Second Temple existed. This is striking. How could they mourn a destruction when the Temple stood in their midst? They were haunted by the fear that it could happen again. And even when we are out our strongest, our history teaches us that there is reason to be fearful for what may yet come to be.
Finally, Rav Soloveitchik noted that Tisha b’Av is about so much more than commemorating the destruction of the first and second temples. Tisha b’Av is the day when tragic episodes from throughout Jewish history are commemorated. It’s not the temple per say and its not the desolation of Yerusahalyim per se that is the animating force of our mourning. The day is about connecting to the tragic strand of Jewish history, mourning the heavy costs of keeping Judaism alive, and taking responsibility to redirect the future.
The Haftarah that we read for Parashat Devarim gives its name to this Shabbat – Parashat Devarim is always read on the Shabbat prior to Tisha b’Av. This Shabbat is called Shabbat Chazon – the Sabbath of vision, after the opening words of the Haftarah, the first verses of Sefer Yeshayahu:
חֲזון֙ יְשַֽעְיָ֣הו בֶן־אָמ֔וץ אֲשֶ֣ר חָזָ֔ה עַל־יְהוד֖ה וִירושָלִָ֑ם בִימֵ֨י עֻזִיָ֧הו יותָ֛ם אָחָ֥ז יְחִזְקיָ֖הו מַלְכֵ֥י יְהודֽה׃
“The Vision of Isaiah the son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem, in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah.”
This prophecy is a powerful indictment of a corrupt and immoral society and a powerful warning to a society seemingly on the brink of destruction. But it must be remembered that Uziyahu, who was king at the start of Yeshayahu’s prophetic career was, from a military and political perspective, one of the greatest kings in Jewish history. He restored independence and strength to the Kingdom of Judah after a period when foreign kings ruled in Jerusalem.
David Ben Gurion went so far as to say (in a speech on the significance of the Negev, of all things):
“There is nothing more similar to the spirit of our times than Uziyahu King of Judah. He understood how to strengthen his army and to provide for it and arm it well. But this wise and mighty king did not suffice with conquests of the sword. He understood that he had to develop the land, to expand its settled regions…And together with strengthening the army and expanding the country’s settled areas and the conquest of the Sea in the South, his reign also came with a spiritual and cultural flowering that was without precedent.”
Uziyahu built towers and built an army and inspired a cultural renaissance. But Yeshayahu is roused to prophecy during this time of national strength. Even at a time of strength, we are vulnerable. That is a message of Tisha b’Av even when Jews fill every corner of Yerusahalyim. Our greatest vulnerability and our greatest threat is the erosion of our ethical core and integrity. That is a lesson of Tisha b’Av that is relevant even when Jews fill every corner of Yerushalyim. And Tisha b’Av is not about the past alone, but about our connection to Jewish history. It’s not about the temple alone, but about centuries of blood spilled by our ancestors in every settled continent. And Tisha b’Av is about anxiety as much as it is about sadness. Finally, Tisha v’Av is about the lost spiritual opportunities in our own lives. We reflect on how as individuals and as a community we have continued to banish God’s presence from our midst because of our own choices.
The Haftarah concludes with a roadmap for the future, a path forward for our people, and the only way to secure the future that we yearn for:
וְאָשִ֤יבָה שֹפְטַ֙יְִ֙ כְבָר֣אשֹנָ֔ה וְיֹעֲצַ֖יְִ כְבַתְחִלָ֑ה אַחֲרי־כֵ֗ן יִקָ֤רא לְָ֙ עִ֣יר הַצֶ֔דק קריָ֖ה נֶאֱמָנָֽה׃
צִי֖ון בְמִשְפָ֣ט תִפָד֑ה וְשָבֶ֖יהָ בִצְדקֽה׃
“And I will restore your judges as they were, And your advisors as at the beginning; Afterward you shalt be called The City of Righteousness, The faithful city.
Zion shall be redeemed with justice, And they that return of her with righteousness.”
Shabbat Shalom
- This story is told in pp. xxvii – xxxii in “The Koren Mesorat HaRav Kinot” ↩︎
- See here for a fuller quotation from this magnificent drasha: http://www.mesora.org/Rav-Disengagement.htm ↩︎
Rabbi David Wolkenfeld 