Tisha b'Av (Archives)

Between 17th of Tammuz and 9th of Av

The two fast days of mid-summer, that constitute the two poles of the three weeks of mourning, are seen in the Midrashic tradition as corresponding to two central moments in the sacred history of the Torah: the sin of the Golden Calf, and that of the Spies. Moses, in response to seeing the people orgiastically cavorting before the Golden Calf, smashed the first set of tablets on the 17th of Tammuz; the weeping of the people “on that night” (Num 14:1), following the grim report of the Spies, is said to have happened on the 9th of Av. These two events, each in their own way, are seen as the great archetypes for the sins of the Jewish people in all generations—and of the process of Divine forgiveness (see HY I: Ki Tisa; Shelah Lekha.

The interplay between these two events, with all their theological, psychological, and other ramifications, present a rich mine for thought and speculation. I will confine myself here to one question, and one tentative answer. Since, as everyone knows, Tisha b’Av is a far more serious, deeply mournful day than the 17th of Tammuz, we must assume that the sin of the Golden Calf, notwithstanding first appearances (for what could be worse than idolatry?), was less grave than that of the Spies. How so?

My own rather speculative answer is that the making of the Golden Calf was motivated by a spiritual impulse gone wrong. The people experienced a deep lack in wake of Moses’ prolonged absence, and felt the need to do something, to fill their longing for some transcendent guidance. In the case of the Spies, the people sank into black despair; whatever spiritual impulses they had were totally extinguished, or at least driven deep inside themselves; they gave up on all hope, on all aspiration for anything more in their lives than dragging on and on in the gray, earth-bound concerns of a purely physical existence. Thus, the midrashic tradition, in pinpointing the incident of the Spies as the root of Tisha b’Av, the “holiday” of exile, saw this as the more weighty sin.

The Rav’s Tisha b’Av

More than with any other day during the course of the year, the figure of my teacher, Rav Soloveitchik ztz”l, is associated in my mind with Tisha b’Av. Not because he was a mournful or melancholy character (although he was decidedly not given to Hasidic flights of song and dance or ecstatic prayer), but because of the unique nature of the reading of Kinot on Tisha b’Av in his presence. Essentially, Tisha b’Av was the occasion for an all-day Torah lesson, from 8 in the morning until late in the afternoon. People from all over Boston and beyond crowded into the synagogue of the Maimonides School to hear him. Following Shaharit and Torah reading, he would deliver a discourse on halakhic and philosophic aspects of the laws of the day. In his inimitable way, he would weave together halakhic motifs and underlying religious and philosophical conceptions, demonstrating how the seemingly minor details of the halakhah express profound ideas.

The Rav conceived of Kinot as essentially a form of Oral Torah, elaborating, explaining, and complementing the Biblical lessons for the day, found in the Torah reading, the haftarah, and the scroll of Aikhah (Lamentations). The Kinot themselves, dirges written by Byzantine and Medieval Hebrew poets, such as those of Rabbi Eleazar ha-Kallir, are an artful interweaving of midrashic motifs and biblical verses. While reading the Kinot, the Rav would stop between each one, or at times after each stanza, to explain, elaborate, narrate, philosophize, polemicize, etc. The Rav seemed to have a particular affinity for the piyyut literature, which many Jews find impenetrably dense and difficult. Someone once asked the Rav what book he read on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur during lulls in the davening, expecting him to name some Mussar (ethical) treatise or perhaps some work of Maimonides. The Rav replied, “the Mahzor,” explaining how these Medieval poems were vehicles of Oral Torah.

A few gleanings from those occasions. In an halakhic analysis delivered one year, the Rav explained how Tisha b’Av is a unique combination of ta’anit tzibbur (public fast day) and avelut (a day of mourning). The basic rules of the fast day: its parameters from dusk to nightfall, the prohibitions of eating, drinking, washing, wearing shoes, etc, are all characteristic of the more stringent public fast days—whether of Yom Kippur, its biblical archetype, or the seven latter fast days for drought years mentioned in Mishnah Ta’anit. On the other hand, it is a day of intense mourning. The Rav explained avelut—whether for personal bereavement over loss of a member of ones intimate family, or the collective mourning of Tisha b’Av—as a sense of alienation, of distance from God, even of confronting dark, nihilistic thoughts. Tisha b’Av is in essence not a day of prayer: one recites the mandatory daily prayers because they are required, but unlike other fast days it is not a day of prayerfulness, reflecting a living, vital sense of contact with God. On that day, we do not feel God’s presence or His attentive listening; the mottos of the other fast days or of the Ten Days of Repentance, “Seek the Lord when he is to be found” or “Who is like our God, in all our crying out to Him?” do not apply here. Hence, on Tisha b’Av there are no Selihot (penitential prayers), no recitation of the 13 attributes of mercy, no Avinu Malkinu, etc. Instead, the byword is satam tefilati—“Even when I call and cry for help, my prayer is shut out” (Lam 3:8)—which the Rav interpreted as a halakhic concept. (Consistent with this view, he did not even allow the recitation of a Mi sheberakh laholeh, the special prayer for the sick, on Tisha b’Av)

From here, he turned to the concept of theodicy. He saw Tisha b’Av as the one day of the year when one is allowed to ask even the most daring questions of God: “lehatiah devarim klapei ma’alah.” According to the Rav, this is derived from the Book of Eikhah, read on that day. The very title of the book, “eikhah,” is not only a statement but a question: “How?” Interestingly, this word serves as a leitmotif, repeated twice (or thrice) in the liturgy for Shabbat Hazon, the sabbath preceding Tisha b’Av, as a kind of foreshadowing of the day itself. In the Torah reading Moses asks “How can I bear alone your trouble and burden and strife?” (Deut 1:12); and in the haftarah: “How is the faithful city become as a harlot” (Isa 1:21)—in both cases, the verse being read in the elegiac melody of Lamentations. Many of the kinot are also built upon the word eikhah or other key words from the book, which they utilize as a precedent, as a kind of basis for asking penetrating, searing questions. This may be observed, for example, in the kinot “Ai -Koh Omer” and “Atah amarta haiteiv aitiv imakh.”

Radical Theology of Tisha b’Av

Thus far the Rav. Extrapolating from this in a somewhat more radical direction, I would describe Tisha b’Av as a day marked by dialectic tensions. On the one hand, in its aspect of ta’anit tzibbur, of public fast day, it is marked by the motif of Teshuvah, of returning to God, and by implication also of tzidduk hadin, of accepting the rightness of God’s harsh judgment. This is akin to the traditional approach that “because of our sins we were exiled from our land”— that all the terrible things that happened to the Jewish people (including those attached to Tisha b’Av by extension ) are ultimately our own fault. On the other hand, in its aspect of avelut, of mourning, it may be interpreted as a day when we look into the void, confronting the emptiness, the apparent senselessness and meaninglessness of the tragic events of life. One is allowed to ask “why?”—to openly declare that there are things that don’t make sense; that the world, that various occurrences in life, that many of the events in Jewish history, do not square with what the Good Book says. As Judaism runs the full gamut of human emotions and of human experiences, so too even this nihilistic, doubting, “irreligious” mood has its place in the annual cycle.

From this perspective, the third chapter of the Book of Lamentations makes new sense. The other four chapters are elegiac descriptions of the fallen glory of Zion, describing in stately cadence how the young men and virgins who walked about in finery, and the prophets and Nazirites and priests who lived lives of holiness and dignity, were reduced to rags and worse. Chapter 3, by contrast, is a Job-like soliloquy of a single individual. It runs the gamut of emotion, from feeling pursued by God—“He is a bear, a lion, lying in ambush for me in secret” (3:10); “he has set me as the mark to his arrow” (v. 12), etc.—to a sudden change in mood, in which the narrator is filled with confidence, trusting in the very God who had seemed an enemy: “The loving-kindness of the Lord is never done, his mercies are endless; they are new every morning… the Lord is good to those who wait upon him” (vv. 22-27), etc. This is in turn followed by a call for self-examination and teshuvah, turning to God, lifting up ones heart in wholehearted confession and repentance (vv. 40-42). But then again, “You have wrapped yourself in a cloud, so that no prayer can pass through” (v. 44). The same good, merciful God is now portrayed in a state of hester panim, of hiding Himself from man. In brief, this chapter is a kind of spiritual diary of a religious man, stricken by overwhelming suffering, whose heart is filled with questions and doubts, wondering whether there really is a God out there who listens and cares and responds to his troubles, or whether He behaves in capricious, cruel, even monstrous ways.

An interesting reflection on a newly relevant side-aspect of this issue of theodicy: whether one piously accepts God’s judgment or shakes ones fist at heaven and cries out “Why?”, these questions are of vital importance for Jews. For Jews, unlike Buddhists, the option of radical quietism is not a live option, because the world, and life, are not illusory, but are very real. Perhaps it is in the confrontation with these types of questions, most of all, that the ways of Judaism and the mystical, quietistic religions of the Far East part ways.

Since writing these words, there has been a great tumult over Rav Ovadiah Yosef’s remarks that the victims of the Holocaust were reincarnation of sinners of past generations, who thereby atoned their outstanding sins. The vehement secularist reaction, while understandable, seems to miss the point of Rav Yosef’s remarks. Rav Ovadiah was trying to come up with some sort of explanation for the most difficult, vexing problem for Jewish religious thought and, at least in theory, his position cannot be ruled out as a possible option. My objection to it is on two other grounds: First, “Sages, be careful with your words.” A discussion of such an esoteric, not to say sensitive, issue was totally inappropriate for a public lecture to a mass audience, particularly one broadcast live far beyond the confines of his Beit Midrash. “Hanei kavshei derahmana lamah li?” The traditional attitude is one of extreme hesitance and circumspection about discussing the details of God’s conduct of the world, what happens to each individual after death, etc. If he must, let him write an article in a Rabbinic journal. Second, his statement that these matters are “fundaments of the faith” and that anyone who denies them is a heretic is simply incorrect and wrongheaded. Rav Yosef Albo says that we must believe, in a general way, in Divine justice and in recompense for our actions. But whether these things are done in this world, in an afterlife through Heaven and Hell, or through reincarnation in the form of fish, snakes, cats, Polish Jewish children, or Chief Rabbis—who dare say? The Rambam’s remarks in the final chapter of the Mishneh Torah vis-a-vis eschatology: “One should not engage overly much in speculations on these matters, as they lead neither to love of God nor to fear of God… but one must only believe in them in a general way, and we shall not know how they will happen until they happen” may be applied equally well to these matters.

Shlomo Carlebach also used to talk about the Holocaust and the reincarnation or transmigration of souls, but in a very different vein. He claimed that the children of the generation born after the Holocaust, many of whom became student radicals, hippies, flower children, and “Holy Beggars,” were reincarnations of the victims of the Holocaust; after the horrors they experienced, they were filled with idealism and a burning desire for a better, purer, different sort of world. He of course exaggerated in the opposite direction, but what a difference!…

“…The Ruined and Desolate City…”

We wrote earlier (see Archives: 17th of Tammuz)of the movement to change certain aspects of the mournful seasons in Judaism following the reunification of Jerusalem in 1967. One of the focii of this movement was the Nahem prayer recited on Tisha B’Av afternoon. The traditional text speaks of “the city that is in mourning and in ruins, despised and desolate... without her children... like an abandoned woman... ruined by legions, inherited by Gentiles...” etc. —statements that are today patently untrue. We have attached here three attempts to create new versions of this blessing, more accurately reflecting the present reality: one, compiled by Prof. Efraim Urbach together with his late son Abraham, based upon sources from the Jerusalem Talmud, from the Siddurim of R. Amram Gaon and R. Saadya Gaon, from Maimonides, as well as the Italian and Yemenite rites; a second, by the late Rabbi Shlomo Goren, who in 1967 was Chief Rabbi of the IDF; and a third, by Rabbi Abraham Rosenfeld, in the Authorized Kinot, intended for British Jewry, published with the blessing of late Chief Rabbi Brodie. In addition, R. Hayyim David Halevi ztz”l, Chief Sephardic Rabbi of Tel Aviv, wrote in a responsum that one should not use the old text, because one is speaking falsehood before the Almighty.

תפילת נחם לתשעה באב

הנוסח המסורתי

נחם ה' אלקינו את אבלי ציון ואת אבלי ירושלים ואת העיר האבלה החרבה, הבזויה והשוממה, האבלה מבלי בניה, החריבה ממעונותיה, הבזויה מכבודה, והשוממה מאין יושב. והיא יושבת וראשה חפוי כאשה עקרה שלא ילדה. ויבלעוה לגיונות, וירשוה עובדי זרים ויטילו את עמך י'ראל לחרב, ויהרגו בזדון חסידי עליון. על כן ציון במר תבכה וירושלים תתן קולה, לבי לבי על חלליהם, מעי מעי על חלליהם, כי אתה ה' באש הצתה, ובאש אתה עתיד לבנותה. כאמור: ואני אהיה לה, נאם ה', חומת אש סביב ולכבוד אהיה בתוכה. ברוך אתה ה' מנחם ציון ובונה ירושלים.

נוסחאות שתוקנו בשנת תשכ"ז בעקבות שחרור ירושלים

.1. נוסח שחובר ע"י פרופ' אפרים א. אורבך ז"ל ובנו אברהם אורבך הי"ד. מבוסס על תלמוד הירושלמי, סדור רב עמרם גאון, נוסח איטליה, נוסח תימן והרמב"ם.

רחם ה' אלקינו ברחמיך הרבים ובחסדיך הנאמנים

עלינו ועל עמך ישראל ועל ירושלים עירך, הנבנית מחורבנה, המקוממת מהריסותיה, ומיושבת משוממותיה; על חסידי עליון שנהרגו בזדון ועל עמך ישראל שהוטל לחרב, ועל בניו אשר מסרו נפשם ושפכו דמם עליה. ציון במר תבכה וירושלים תתן קולה, לבי לבי על חלליהם, מעי מעי על חלליהם, והעיר אשר פדית מידי עריצים ולגיונות. ולישראל עמך נתת נחלה ולזרע ישורון ירושה הורשת. פרוש עליה סכת שלומך כנהר שלום, לקים מה שנאמר: ואני אהיה לה, נאם ה', חומת אש סביב ולכבוד אהיה בתוכה. ברוך אתה ה' מנחם ציון ובונה ירושלים.

2. נוסח שחובר ע"י הרב שלמה גורן זצ"ל, שפורסם ע"י הרבנות הראשי לישראל בשנת תש"מ בהוראה "שיש לאומרה… [כ]הולם את מצבה של עיר הקודש ירושלים כיום" (מבוסס על תלמוד הירושלמי, סדור רב עמרם גאון והרמב"ם).

נחם ה' אלקינו את אבלי ציון ואת אבלי ירושלים

ואת העיר האבלה החרבה ההרוסה ציון במר תבכה וירושלים תתן קולה, לבי לבי על חלליהם, מעי מעי על הרוגיהם, ולישראל עמך נתת נחלה ולזרע ישורון ירושה הורשת. נערה ה' אלקינו מעפרה והקיצה מארץ דוויה. נטה אליה כנהר שלום וכנחל שוטף כבוד גויים. כי אתה ה' באש הצתה ובאש אתה עתיד לבנותה. כאמור: ואני אהיה לה, נאם ה', חומת אש סביב ולכבוד אהיה בתוכה. ברוך אתה ה' מנחם ציון ובונה ירושלים.

3. נוסח שחובר ע"י הרב אברהם רוזנפלד ז"ל ופורסם בסדר הקינות של איגוד בתי הכנסת של בריטניה, באישור של רב הכולל הרב ישראל ברודי זצ"ל

נחם ה' אלקינו את אבלי ציון ואת אבלי ירושלים

ואת העיר הקדושה המבכה על עמך ישראל אשר הוטל לחרב, ועל חסידי עליון שנהרגו בזדון, ועל גבורי ישראל שמסרו נפשם על קדושת השם. ציון במר תבכה וירושלים תתן קולה, לבי לבי על חלליהם, מעי מעי על הרוגיהם, אבינו שבשמים, נקום את נקמת עירך אשר נתת לנו לנחלה, וקבץ את שארית ישראל מכל הארצות אשר הדחת אותם שם, וישבו בה, וחרם לא יהיה עוד, כאמור: פרזות תשב ירושלים מרב אדם ובהמה בתוכה. ואני אהיה לה, נאם ה', חומת אש סביב ולכבוד אהיה בתוכה. ברוך אתה ה' מנחם ציון ובונה ירושלים.

NAHEM FOR TISHA B’AV

Traditional Text

Comfort, O Lord our God, the mourners of Zion and the mourners of Jerusalem, and the city that is mourning, ruined, despised and desolate: mourning without her sons, ruined without her dwellings, despised, [being bereft of] her glory, and desolate without her inhabitants; and she sits with her head covered, like a barren woman who has not given birth. And she is despoiled by legions, and idolators inherit her, and they place your people Israel to the sword, and brazenly kill supreme saints. Therefore Zion weeps bitterly, and Jerusalem lets forth its voice: My heart, my heart [aches] for their slain, My innards, my innards [ache] for their slain. For you, O Lord, have ignited here with fire and You shall in the future rebuild her with fire, As is said: “And I shall be to her, saith the Lord, as a wall of fire around, and I shall be for glory within her” [Zech 2:9]. Blessed art You, O Lord, who comforts Zion and rebuilds Jerusalem.

New Texts Composed in 1967 after the Unification of Jerusalem

1. Version composed by Prof. Ephraim E. Urbach and his son Abraham; based upon the Jerusalem Talmud, Siddur Rav Amram Gaon, Rav Saadiah Gaon, the Yemenite and Italian rites, and Maimonides:

Have mercy, O Lord our God, With your great compassion and your faithful lovingkindness, Upon us and upon your people Israel and upon Jerusalem your city, Rebuilt from its ruins, arisen from its rubble, and resettled from its desolation. Upon the supreme saints who were brazenly killed, and upon your people Israel who were placed to the sword, and upon its sons who gave their lives and spilled their blood for her. Zion weeps bitterly, and Jerusalem lets forth its voice. My heart, my heart [aches] for their slain, My innards, my innards [ache] for their slain. And as for the city which You have redeemed from the hands of arrogant ones and legions, And to your people Israel you gave a possession, and to the seed of Jeshurun you gave an inheritance Spread over it the sukkah of your peace, like a river of peace, to fulfill what is said: “And I shall be to her, says the Lord, As a wall of fire around, and I shall be for glory within her” [Zech 2:9]. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who comforts Zion and rebuilds Jerusalem.

2. Version composed by ITF Chief Rabbi Shlomo Goren, appearing in an announcement published by the Israel Chief Rabbinate in 1980, with the heading “that is to be said… as suiting the situation of the holy city Jerusalem today”; based upon the Jerusalem Talmud, Rav Amram Gaon, and Maimonides:

Comfort, O Lord our God, the mourners of Zion and the mourners of Jerusalem, and the city that is mourning, ruined, and destroyed: Zion weeps bitterly, and Jerusalem lets forth its voice. My heart, my heart [aches] for their slain, My innards, my innards [ache] for their killed. And to your people Israel you gave a possession, and to the seed of Jeshurun you gave an inheritance. Shake it, O Lord our God, from the dust, and awaken it from its sorrow, Stretch over it the honor of nations like a river of peace and a running stream, For you, O Lord, have ignited here with fire and You shall in the future rebuild her with fire, As is said: “And I shall be to her, says the Lord, As a wall of fire around, and I shall be for glory within her” [Zech 2:9]. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who comforts Zion and rebuilds Jerusalem.

3. Version composed by Rabbi Abraham Rosenfeld z”l, published in the Authorized Kinot for the Ninth of Av of the United Synagogue of Great Britain (Jerusalem, 1970), with the sanction of the Chief Rabbi Emeritus, Sir Israel Brodie z”l:

Comfort, O Lord our God, the mourners of Zion and the mourners of Jerusalem, and the holy city that is weeping for the people Israel who were placed to the sword, for the supreme saints who were brazenly killed. and for the mighty ones of Israel, who gave their lives for the Sanctification of the Name. Zion weeps bitterly, and Jerusalem lets forth its voice. My heart, my heart [aches] for their slain, My innards, my innards [ache] for their slain. O Father in Heaven, avenge Your city that You have given us as an inheritance, And gather the remnants of Israel from all the lands where You have dispersed them, That they may dwell there, and there shall no longer be extermination, as is said: “Jerusalem shall be inhabited as an open city, for the many people and animals therein. And I shall be to her, says the Lord, As a wall of fire around, and I shall be for glory within her” [Zech 2:8-9]. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who comforts Zion and rebuilds Jerusalem.