Shabbat shalom

The lessons and liturgy of Tisha b’Av

Our practices on Tisha b’Av are deeply endowed with meaning – and practical lessons.

Orthdox Jews men pray as they Reciting Kinnot on Tisha b’Av at the Kotel. Photo: Times of Israel

This coming Wednesday evening/Thursday is Tisha b’Av. 

The aim of the fast and associated practices is not just to enable us to recall history. As with so many of our religious practises throughout the year – whether joyous or otherwise – they are actually designed so that we experience in our own lives those past events and their implications. As far as Tisha b’Av is concerned, a key lesson is that had there been no churban (destruction) or exile, our world would be very different; its causes are relevant to us as well. Hence the liturgy and its content relating to so many events recited as we sit on low chairs as we do when we in our lives have experienced personal loss.

Actually, of all aspects of our liturgy, whether recited thrice daily or once annually, the kinnot (elegies) of the Tisha b’Av morning service, stand out as the least well known and understood. Unloved and unwanted as the day of Tisha b’Av itself, most editions are not even in a format that belongs in a library. Tradition has it that as we hope that the messianic advent would soon make them redundant, there is no need to print them except in the cheapest manner; little did it matter if flimsy productions would not last a lifetime. I clearly recall an incident when I was of school age, when the late Rabbi Boruch Abaranok who at one time sold sefarim in Glen Eira Road handed me such a flimsy Kinnot book apologising in his humble manner even to a young boy for giving me such a “primitive” gift – and of course explaining why it was so in a lesson that remained with me ever since. (The Lookstein edition with commentary based on the teachings of Rabbi Joseph B Soloveitchik and the Artscroll edition as well as the Rosenfeld Kinnot that preceded them broke with tradition as exceptions to the rule. Educational they are – but hopefully in the future they will serve as repositories of history rather than practical prayer books.) 

And beyond that general downplaying of their position amongst our liturgical treasures, is an attitude to their recitation unparalleled elsewhere. Which Orthodox shule would decide on any other day of the year to omit elements of a prescribed liturgy on an ad hoc basis? Strictly speaking the recital should take till midday – yet many have a policy to recite only the first few and a number of others considered key compositions – a decision largely left to the discretion of the rabbi, chazzan or other individuals. And many who do recite all or some have not studied their meaning, format and inbuilt references in a way that all other aspects of our liturgy are studied so that they are fully understood and are able to be recited with proper kavannah (intent presupposing understanding). 

On the other hand, I must make reference to Tisha b’Av that I have twice experienced in Beit Knesset HaGra in Bayit Vegan, Yerushalayim. In that strictly Ashkenazic shule whose minhagim date back to the German ways of its immigrant founders (as well as rulings of the Gra, the Gaon of Vilna followed by 19th century settlers since adopted as part of “minhag Yerushalayim”) subsequently collated and formalised by the late Dayan Yehezkel Abramsky, each kinnah is read in a specific traditional tune by one participant. Additionally, and even at Shacharit, the service – so much rushed and shortened elsewhere – is followed by rereading Megillat Echah (the biblical book of Lamentations) from a properly written parchment Megillah. (Basic halachah provides that Megillat Echah is read in the evening as Tisha b’Av commences; whilst most communities worldwide generally read it from a printed book, communities following minhag HaGra and Yerushalayim use a handwritten scroll and recite the blessing “al mikra megillah”. However in the morning when that reading is optional rather than prescribed, even when a scroll is used it is read without the blessing.).

What actually are kinnot? Basically a series of poems of lamentation that originated between the seventh and 13th centuries. Primarily concerned with the loss of the Batei Mikdash and Yerushalayim and in many cases replete with biblical references particularly to Megillat Echah, their style and structure varies considerably. As is the case with the piyyutim (poetic insertions) of the Selichot and festive services, that variation ranges from simple biblical language to complicated and convoluted expressions, the full meaning of which is often difficult to fathom – at least in the first instance. And as – whether owing to expectation of imminent redemption that will make them redundant, or perhaps pure laziness – one does not see their study worthwhile, they remain for many a largely closed book. 

So here is a brief summary of some of their content. 

Taking the cue from Megillat Echah, the initial kinnot written by the seventh century payyetan (poet) Eliezer Kalir begin with the word “echah”, meaning “how”. Their themes: How does the city remain solitary, how did this happen, how could the anger of the Lord be so provoked? Also by Kalir are pieces beginning “Zechor” – seeking remembrance of the enemy’s deeds that also blasphemed the Holy Name. 

Perhaps the most famous Jewish sigh is the Yiddish expression “oy veh”. Whilst it does not appear as such in the kinnot, a series of them do feature as refrains what are perhaps the original versions preceding the growth of Yiddish: “Oy”, “Oyah”, and a full sentence “Oi meh hayah lanu – Oh what has happened to us.”

Elsewhere we read of Jeremiah’s lament and the 10 martyrs of the Roman era, talmudic sages including Rabbi Akiva executed in the cruellest manner. (That latter composition parallels the better known one that forms part of the Yom Kippur Musaf service.) Zionides, written in the 12th century by Rabbi Yehuda Halevi express his heartfelt longing to return to Jerusalem. Their poignancy is increased by the story that having personally succeeded in making the journey from Spain to Yerushalayim he was murdered by a passing horseman as he arrived in the city. His words “Zion halo tishali l’shelom asirayich – Zion will you not ask for the fate of those taken captive”, also now feature in popular Jewish songs. 

Another 12th century composition mourns the havoc created by the Crusaders as they pillaged the communities of the Rhine Valley whilst en route to the Holy Land. Terrible in itself – that tragedy set the pattern for further centuries of Christian persecution that indeed made Jewish exile in Europe almost too terrible to bear. 

One other kinnah of note is that beginning “Sha’ali serufa ba’esh” referring to the Parisian burning of the Talmud about 1242. Its poignancy increased in recent times for it was written by Rabbi Meir of Rothenburg, who was imprisoned as part of an extortion attempt but forbade the community to ransom him in order not to encourage the taking of other Jewish prisoners for ransom. Sadly, the halachic and other considerations relating to that event became once again of significance in the contemporary era of wars with our enemies involving kidnapping of hostages. Finally, many contemporary kehillot have adopted recitation of at least one of the kinnot most recently composed (in the style of earlier compositions) to commemorate and mourn victims of the Shoah.

To return to the theme with which I commenced. On Tisha b’Av we need to go beyond reading history to experience and learn from that which occurred. Sadly, albeit in another sense, we are actually experiencing a key aspect of Tisha b’Av to our shame and detriment. A well-known custom of Tisha b’Av is to limit our study of Torah to relevant prophetic writings and talmudic passages. In tractate Yoma (9b) we find that the spiritual cause of the destruction of the Second Beit Hamikdash leading to the exile in which we find ourselves, was “sin’at chinam”, baseless hatred. 

In a series of passages in tractae Gittin (55n et al) we read of events leading up to and facilitating the churban in which hatred played a key role. The practical implication is that for us too such infighting can have horrific results. Hamas operatives captured and interviewed after October 7 clearly spelt out that the demonstrations and infighting that characterised the previous year or so gave them the impression that their terrible plans could succeed against a weakened Israel. More recently the disputes between elements of the Charedi population and much of the rest of Israel have involved previously unheard of levels of interruption to daily life across Israel and even expressions of hatred to the extent of “rabbinic leaders” cursing the IDF and its leadership. Tisha b’Av should teach us not to repeat the mistakes of the past. Despite disagreements we are all one nation and “ahavat chinam” – love even without reason – must substitute for “sin’at chinam” – no matter how justified some might feel in their fight and actions.

May all Israel know no more personal or national tragedy as we reach fulfilment of the last lines of the paragraph recited at the end of the kinnot: “For the Lord shall comfort Zion … joy and gladness shall be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song” (Isaiah 5.13). 

As we look forward to the Shiv’a Denechemta, the seven weeks of comfort that follow this calendric period,

Shabbat shalom,

Yossi.

Yossi Aron OAM is The AJN’s religious affairs editor.

read more: