The three weeks of national mourning

The three weeks of mourning that commence this year on Thursday, July 2, are generally denoted as a period of mourning the destruction of the two temples of old, and the exile that ensued. In fact, however, this period encapsulates a litany of events spanning Jewish history from biblical times to the final Messianic redemption.

The Mishnah (Ta’anit 4:6) relates that five things took place on Tammuz 17 (the first day of the three weeks) and a further five on Av 9 (its climax and conclusion).

Occurring exactly 40 days after Shavuot, Tammuz 17 coincides with the date Moses descended from Mount Sinai, witnessed the worship of the golden calf and smashed the Tablets bearing the Ten Commandments. Thus from the very first year of the history of Israel as a nation, Tammuz 17 symbolised rebellion and its consequences – a sin that has reverberated throughout the generations.

The remaining events listed for Tammuz 17 relate to the Temple era. Even prior to the Babylonian destruction, on that date Temple service ceased, owing to the absence of sacrificial animals in the besieged city. At the time of the Roman siege, it was then that the protective wall of the city was breached, presaging the final three weeks of hand-to-hand fighting inside the city. And on that date in an earlier generation, a Greek officer called Apostomus carried out the ultimate insult to Jewry by publicly burning and destroying a Sefer Torah, following which an idol was also placed in the temple.

Regarding Tisha b’Av, the five listed events also span the period from the biblical era. Following the return of the 12 spies sent to Canaan, the people cried saying that they did not wish to enter the land. A heavenly voice decreed: “On this night you wept without cause, not wishing to enter the land. There will come a time when you will weep over being forced to leave it.”

Both Temples were destroyed on this date, by the Babylonians and Romans respectively. Following the Roman destruction, in the context of the Bar Kochba rebellion, the fortress of Betar was destroyed with unbelievable loss of life. The remnant of Jerusalem was ploughed over; only the Western Wall remained as a symbol of the greatness since destroyed.

Yet the tragic events associated with this period extend beyond the mishnaic list.

In August 1492, Tisha b’Av would be the date set by the rulers of Catholic Spain for the final departure of the Jews expelled from the country where they had experienced a golden era of independence that some had thought might never end. In 1914, it was on Tisha b’Av that there began World War I. Ironically, the “war to end all wars” would not achieve that end. Instead, it would set in motion the events leading to the rise of Hitler – and the advent of Jewry’s greatest tragedy during two millennia of exile. And it was on Tisha b’Av 1942 that the Nazis commenced daily deportations from the Warsaw Ghetto to Treblinka.

But there is also another reason for mourning – the fact that the end of the exile has not yet come. And yet, therein lies a paradox that encapsulates the secret of continued Jewish survival. For the sages reminded us that on the very date of the destruction, the Messiah is born. In anticipation of imminent redemption, halachah even incorporated certain festive aspects into the Tisha b’Av ritual; thus as on any festive occasion, tachanun (confession) is not recited. In the tradition of Rabbi Akiva, who laughed when he saw foxes entering the holy of holies, saying that if the promise of destruction was fulfilled how much more certain can we be of fulfilment of the promise of redemption, we also hear on the very moment of Tisha b’Av that the end of days is at hand.

Dare one suggest that this paradox has parallels in recorded history? As the Spanish Jews embarked on the boats that would carry them to what they hoped would be safety, they saw Columbus’s fleet preparing to depart – it would lead to America that would in subsequent centuries grow to become the vital community we know today (though sadly as recent events are showing, security in no Jewish destination in exile can be taken for granted). And the “war to end all wars”  that subsequently led to the tragedy of the Holocaust set in motion the final overdue realisation of the establishment of a Jewish national home in Israel.

May we merit no more tragedy, and in the words of the prophet Zechariah, may we soon see the days of commemoration of tragedy turned to days of rejoicing.

Shabbat shalom,

Yossi

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