Tears, hate and Exile
Rabbi Dario Feiguin
Tisha B'Av is the saddest day of the Jewish calendar.
Among the 6 public fasts established by the Luach, this is the second most important one after Yom Kippur.
On the 9 of Av, we remember historical events that marked us as a people and confront us with the challenge to end evil and destruction.
On the 9 of Av, the First Temple of Jerusalem fell in year 586 BCE and also the Second Temple in 70 CE, on this date the rebellion of Bar Kochba with the fall of Betar was ended, edicts of expulsion of Jews in England and Spain were signed on this day, it is also said that the project of the "Nazi Final Solution" was signed on this day, and strangely, one day after the 9 of Av of year 1994, the bomb attack to the AMIA, the Jewish community of Buenos Aires occured.
Horror, destruction, death, Inquisition, Holocaust, Terrorism, are all words associated with Tisha B'Av.
On Tish'a B'Av, we keep strict mourning practices. Besides fasting, it is forbidden to use animal leather, bathing, having sex and even to study Torah, as it is considered a pleasurable activity.
We can only study from the Book of Iov and some chapters of Jeremiah. The Tefillah is pronounced with a thin voice and without musical instruments. The parochet (curtain) of the Aron Hakodesh is removed. The lights go out and we sit on the floor to read from the Megillah Echa = book of Lamentations, which starkly recounts the destruction and horror.
Special prayers and liturgical poems are said, called "Kinot" and we conclude reciting Kadish excluding the paragraph "Titkabel", the same way it is done at home during a Shiva (the week of mourning).
At the end of all the services, we are not allowed to greet each other. This is not a day to make “social activities”.
In the morning service, we do not put on tefillin and it is the only day of the year on which tefillin are worn during Mincha service.
With the establishment of Medinat Israel in 1948 and the liberation of Yerushalayim in 1967, some have adopted the habit of not fasting all day, but cutting the fast right after Mincha.
Even though, Tisha B'Av keeps on making sense, and it will continue so while human wickedness continues to prevail over goodness, tenderness and love.
This year, on this Shabbat, which is also the eve of Tisha B'Av, I would like to reflect on three points related to this commemoration.
The first is why do we cry? What is it that really hurts?
The Torah says that when the spies Moses sent, returned and 10 of them said it was impossible to achieve the goal of entering the Land of Israel, the people wept.
The Midrash says that Gd then became angry and said, "You cried over this, now I'm going to give you something to really mourn for!
According to the Midrash, that day was the 9th of Av, a day in which people wept and complained without reason.
Unfortunately, today there are many things for which to mourn.
But there are many others over which one must not mourn.
One should be able to find the pearls that there are in life. That pessimism and tango crying that characterizes us, often confuses us and prevents us from seeing things in their true perspective and proportion. There are things to mourn about. But there are also things to laugh and celebrate about.
The second element that today I want to add to the senseless crying is the senseless hatred.
The Midrash says that the 2nd Temple was destroyed by the baseless hatred among brothers. Not everything must necessarily be strife and confrontation.
It can not be possible that there is no common ground.
The hatred between brothers, even if they think differently, inevitably leads to self-destruction.
There are abominations and hateful people, but we do not live alone; we live in society. And tolerance is not enough for that.
Tolerating is to bear with something I do not agree with. What really works here is true pluralism. To be convinced that the only truth is Gd, and therefore I only own my partial and relative truth.
The third element related to the weeping and free hatred is the feeling of Galut.
Galut means exile, and it's that feeling of not belonging anywhere; of not having a place for ourselves.
The destruction of Yerushalayim brought Galut, but rebuilding it, took it away. In fact there is not talk about Galut or Gola anymore for those living outside Israel, but about Tefutzot, ie diaspora. Because while most of the Jews live outside Israel, we are not in exile anymore.
Galut is not only a political condition. I would say that it is more an existential state of being.
One can feel like being in Galut because of the lack of a place of belonging, a community in which to share one’s values and objectives, and even a family when the short-circuit is such that it does not allow any type of communication. One can feel in Galut within your own body and in front of one’s life, when there is no will to live because everything seems meaningless.
Tisha B'Av puts us in perspective. All this horror and suffering makes us tune with more logical proportions.
To mourn for what we have to mourn but to laugh for what we should not stop celebrating.
To confront and combat evil or what is strange to our values, but respect, share and live with what is different but what accepts and respects us.
To take the Galut out of us and return from the exile of nonsense to a life of values and ideals.
For the saddest day to prepare us to face our own sorrows.
To be able to respond with sensitivity and empathy to the sorrows of others.
But also to give us the perspective and wisdom, of hope and faith.
Translated by: Max Pérez