A PERSONAL NOTE...
I recently wrote a post for the local Jewish blog Nu?Detroit. In it, I discuss how, since the horrific attack on Israel last October, I have navigated my professional obligations while dealing with my personal commitments to Israel. Because it is a very personal piece that I felt also merited a wider audience, I chose to publish it there. You can find it at https://www.nu-detroit.com/i-stand-with-israel/.
ABOUT TISHA B'AV
Today is Tisha B'Av, literally "the Ninth of the Month of Av." It is the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, an occasion for intense mourning during which the more religiously observant fast and recite lamentations.
Tradition marks this day as a dual remembrance of the destruction of Jerusalem’s First and Second Temples (in 586 BCE and 70 CE, respectively). In addition to their role as the principal houses of worship, these Temples were the international symbols of ancient Judea.
Like most Jewish traditions, Tisha B'Av has not remained unchanged. Over thousands of years of Jewish persecution, it grew into a day of universal Jewish mourning. Our oppressors knew about the significance of this date. At least three major expulsions of Jews took place on or immediately following Tisha B'Av: from England in 1290, from France in 1306, and—perhaps most notoriously—from Spain in 1492. With great awareness of the meaning of this day, Heinrich Himmler officially inaugurated the 1941 "Final Solution" plan for the utter destruction of Europe’s Jews. Rumors that the Islamic Republic of Iran (IRI) would launch its attack on Israel today were not unfounded. It has just recently been verified that the IRI (through its surrogate Hezbollah) was responsible for the 1994 bombing of the Buenos Aires Jewish Community Center, which killed 85 and injured more than 300 others. This attack took place on Tisha B'Av.
We Jews are a people with a long memory, especially when it comes to the tragedies that have been inflicted upon us. Why do we take this day to remember so intensely? I believe there are two reasons. One is to honor the countless Jewish victims of persecution who suffered the worst consequences of the ugly virus of antisemitism that has long plagued our tiny people. The other reason is that we are strengthened by remembrance. Despite the many hardships our people have faced, ours is not solely a tale of suffering. It also contains a deeper history of resilience, of rising from the wretchedness of our mistreatment and moving beyond the valleys of the shadow of death. While some might attribute our survival to divine will, we Humanistic (and many other) Jews know better. When we have risen again, it is because we chose to lift ourselves up. This is the very essence of Jewish resilience.
On Friday night, Aug. 23, I will talk about some of the history, lore, and significance of this observance (delayed due to a special Freedom House program on Friday). I'll also discuss its relevance for modern secular Jews like us, for whom it may not be a day of fasting and prayer but is nevertheless a time of lamentation.