“Alas! Lonely sits the city Once great with people!” — Lamentations 1:1
Outside there are heat, humidity and mosquitos. There are a pandemic and political chaos. There are a ripe mango hanging from the tree and fresh tomatoes to pick. And Tisha b’Av is coming, demanding attention and prompting the usual feelings of ambivalence. On Tisha b’Av, we mourn the destruction of a temple many Jews don’t want rebuilt. On Tisha b’Av, we ask for our people’s revival when many of us see this as the best time for the Jewish people.
Tisha b’Av commemorates the destruction of the First Temple by the Babylonians (586 B.C.E.) and the Second Temple by the Romans (70 C.E.). The day is marked by a fast, a practice most Jews do not observe. In fact, for most Jews, Tisha b’Av is just another day. They feel nothing special and do nothing special. This year, they will not even be upset that restaurants are closed per Israeli law on Tisha b’Av, because most restaurants are closed because of the pandemic.
A people must have days for celebration and mourning, enough to make the culture robust and the practice intense. But we must refrain from having too many of these days lest they become cumbersome. Today, when many of us are engaged in the secular world, a demanding special events calendar is likely to be considered too much of a burden. And so, some holidays are cast aside, thereby losing both relevance and followers. Of the many Jewish fasts, Yom Kippur remains strong. Tisha b’Av, not so much. Other fasts, such as the Fast of Esther, are barely noticeable. Erased by omission.
When the Jews felt that their lives were in peril, it was probably easier to observe the many fasts that commemorate our traumatic past, including the 10th of Tevet, commemorating the beginning of the siege of Jerusalem; the 17th of Tammuz, when the walls of Jerusalem were breached; and the Fast of Gedaliah, when Jewish autonomy in Judea ended. These bygone events have been replaced in our collective conscience by more recent traumas, and we therefore feel more at ease as we mourn on Holocaust Memorial Day, but not yet ready to do what our ancestors did by mourning several traumas simultaneously.
Religious and secular Jews can’t agree when to mourn. Israeli and Diaspora Jews can’t agree when to mourn.
On Tisha b’Av, we mourn the destruction of the First and Second temples and, if you are skeptical that these events occurred on the same date, you’re not alone. The Book of Kings and the Book of Jeremiah don’t even agree on the date the First Temple was destroyed. Our sages decided that one cannot mourn the destruction of the temple twice. A similar decision is necessary today. Religious and secular Jews can’t agree when to mourn. Israeli and Diaspora Jews can’t agree when to mourn. On Tisha b’Av, only a fraction of Jews will mark the day. That division is itself a reason to mourn. According to our tradition, it was similar divisions among us that brought about the destruction of the temples.
Reinventing the Jewish calendar is a process in which we must all take part. Reimagining Tisha b’Av as a meaningful day must include trial and error. This year is a good time to start. Why? Look at the opening verse of the Book of Lamentations. Imagine Jerusalem as a lonely city, longing to return to its bustling routine. Think about the empty Kotel plaza. Pass the empty synagogues awaiting the mourners. The destruction of the temple is the destruction of a way of life. And on Tisha b’Av this year, it is somewhat easier to imagine such a tragedy, thereby making it easier to mourn.
