Another year, we find ourselves once again sitting on the floor if Mashiach has not yet arrived.
Chazal teach us:
"כל המתאבל על ירושלים - זוכה ורואה בשמחתה. ושאינו מתאבל על ירושלים - אינו רואה בשמחתה."
"Whoever mourns for Yerushalayim will merit to see her joy, and one who does not mourn will not see her joy."
We hope and pray that this Tisha B'Av will be the last. We await the Geulah and long for the day to be transformed into a moed a time of celebration speedily in our days.
Perhaps this should be the last Tisha B’Av not only because of our longing for redemption and geula, but also because we’ve forgotten what we’re truly mourning, and how to mourn.
We live in a time where the weight of Tisha B’Av has sadly been diminished. Sitting on the floor, reading Kinnos in shul, is no longer the experience many of our children are growing up with. The day has been diluted taken over and, at times, even misused.
Ask a child today what Tisha B’Av means, and too often the first thing that comes to mind is “movie day.” Marketers target the date for high-profile video production releases, premiers, and sometimes even ideological agenda driven messaging. What was once a day of national grief has, in some circles, become a day of distraction.
Yes, modern technology allows us the comfort of our homes to hear inspiring shiurim and live-streamed drashos. And many of these messages are filled with sincerity calling for ahavas chinam, addressing the dangers of lashon hara and sinas chinam. But perhaps the emotional preparation and internal reflection these messages encourage should begin before Tisha B’Av, in the days leading up to it.
Tisha B’Av is not a day to anticipate it is a day we should long to transform. Not into a day of digital programming, but into a Yom Tov. משום דאיקרי מועד.
May we merit to see that day soon.
So well put. However there is a rule in physics nature abhors vacuum. Till we have programming on a community-wide level explaining what the churban is supposed to mean to us then by nature that vacuum will be filled by agenda driven messages.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately the alternative is worse if you saw the social scenes at the bungalow colonies or people locked up at home and going at each other on a long fast day.
ReplyDeleteit's better to have these inspirational productions to keep people from doing worse.
Again if you are fine without this than good for you
Is anyone at least reminded about the option of learning Medrash Eicha at home alone? Or Iyov with Rishonim? Or the various halachos available?
ReplyDeleteThe depressive heavy atmosphere of תשעה באב is not a bug but a feature. We should not be trying to shake it off. That is the mood of the day.
It's not like there isn't an abundant amount of English material translation of real sources the issue seems to be people would rather not study intently, it's simply hard work they'd rather watch a audio visual about living with Parkinson's which does tangentially have some relationship to the churban....
ReplyDeleteEvery Tisha B'av I share this letter that I once sent to Mishpacha Magazine.
ReplyDeleteEspecially today, please, let's not use this to criticize others, just to internalize the lesson.
And if recent controversies come to mind, please let's not go there!
Rebbetzin Wolbe’s Lesson [Not Black and White / Double Take – Issue 938]
After reading about the Double Take story about the “black hat,” I must share a fascinating experience.
I had an Uncle Jack who was a Holocaust survivor and one of the few survivors of the Riga ghetto. He also survived a terrible place called Stutthof, which he said had fewer survivors than Auschwitz.
When my brother in Yerushalayim made a chasunah, my uncle came. The chassan was close to Rav Wolbe ztz”l, who came to the wedding with his wife. Uncle Jack heard that Rebbetzin Rivkah Wolbe ztz”l was a survivor of Stutthof, and told me that he must go over to her.
I tried to dissuade him, saying that a chasunah might not be the right time for it, but he insisted.
I will never forget what happened.
He went over to the Rebbetzin and told her in Yiddish that he was in Stutthof. And she shouted, “You were in Stutthof?” She looked at him like a brother, she would have hugged him if she could. Then she emotionally said to him “We speak the zelbe litvishe Yiddish — We speak the same Lithuanian Yiddish!”
There was such a bond.
The scene is etched in my memory forever. It was then I learned a powerful lesson in ahavas Yisrael. Because Rebbetzin Wolbe didn’t even notice, nor could she possibly care, about something that I was well aware of. I’m sure everyone else in the room was aware of it as well.
What was that?
My Uncle Jack was the only “kippah serugah” in a sea of “black hats”!
At that moment I was cured forever of attaching significance to the type of head covering someone wears.
Beautiful story. Thank so much for sharing. A lesson to be learned.
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