YIOT Torah

Mourning Afternoon: The Dual Nature of Tisha B Av

 

Rabbi Moshe Greene, a Rebbe in Yeshiva Sh’or Yoshuv was once
driving in Queens when his back tire when flat.

 

As he was waiting for AAA to arrive, a Latino man in his sixties
pulled up. He introduced himself as Donny and without warning, started speaking
in Yiddish.

 

“Are you Jewish?” Rabbi Green inquired, completely caught off
guard.

 

Donny smiled and said, “No.”

 

While crouching down to examine the damaged tire, Donny explained
that he was a retired NYPD cop who on numerous occasions was assigned to
protect the Satmar Rebbe, Rabbi Yoel Teitlebaum zt”l.

 

After a few minutes of chatting, while Donny worked on the tire, he
turned serious and said, “I heard you Jews used to live in Israel where you had
a temple, a beautiful place where you all got together for holidays. Right?”
Rabbi Green nodded.

 

“I also heard about two thousand years ago you were exiled because
you couldn’t get along. Correct?”

 

Again, Rabbi Green nodded.

 

Donny continued. “I also heard if you guys could just get along,
G-d will move you back to Jerusalem and he’ll rebuild your Temple.”

 

Donny than leaned toward Rabbi Green, looked him straight in the
eye and asked: “So if you guys are so smart, with your Yiddeshe Kop how come in
two thousand years you haven’t figured out how to get along?”

 

Rabbi Green had no answer.

 

Tisha B’Av contains within it one aspect that is somewhat unique
among other special days on the Jewish calendar.

 

On Pesach, you can’t eat chametz for the entirety of the yom
tov.  Day and Night.  On Shabbos, one cannot do melacha the entire
day.  And the list goes on.

 

Yet, when it comes to Tisha B’Av we have this interesting concept
that after chatzos, after mid-day on the day itself, while there are still 7
hours left in the day, some of our practices change.  Some even end.

 

For example:

1)  
The
Rama writes in Shulchan Aruch that one does not go to work in the
morning of Tisha B’Av, but those restrictions are somewhat relaxed after
chatzos.

 

2)  
Tefillin is not worn in the morning (like aveil on 1st day), but
we do put it on in afternoon.

 

3)  
Maybe
most famously, we sit on the floor in the evening and morning of Tisha
B’Av, but after chatzos one is allowed to sit on a regular chair.

 

4)  
A Bris
Mila
only performed in the afternoon of Tisha B’Av, not in the morning.

 

5)  
We
even dim the lights in the shul and remove the paroches, and then
replace them in the afternoon.

 

What is this all about?  And
what does it teach us about the day itself?

 

The Brisker Rav, Rav Yiztchak Zev Soloveitchik, once explained this phenomenon as follows:

 

If we would look at that which we don’t do on Tisha B’Av, how would
you define the day?

 

On the one hand, we don’t wear leather shoes, we sit on the ground,
we don’t bathe.  These are all aspects of
Aveilus.   We look like someone who is
sitting shiva, rachmana l’tzlan. At the same time, we don’t eat and drink, we
daven, we lain.  These are not aspects of
aveilus, but rather aspects of a Taanis, a fast day.

 

So which one is it?  Is Tisha
B’Av a day of Aveilus or a day of Taanis? 

 

Answers the Brisker Rav, it’s both.

 

But how can it be both?  We
sit shiva only once we have lost our loved one. 
Once they’re not coming back.  All
is lost. The entire goal of a fast day, as the Rambam
writes so eloquently in Hilchos Taaniyos, is NOT to refrain from food and
drink.  Rather, it is there to inspire
us to act, to do teshuva, to see how we can grow and change.
  But that can only work if there is hope for
the future?!

 

So, says the Brisker Rav, now you can understand the unique nature
of Tisha B’Av, and why there is a difference between the first half of the day,
and the second half.

 

The evening and morning of Tisha B’Av are about aveilus.  We sit on the floor, we read Eicha, we read
Kinnos, we sit in the sad
We recognize that the tragedies we have experienced have been
horrific.  And we even ask EICHA!  How could it happen. We learn to appreciate
that which we have lost.

 

And to emphasize the aveilus, we do what aveilim do: We sit on the
floor, we don’t wear tefillin, and we don’t go to work.

 

However, as opposed to regular aveilus which takes place only when
the loss is PERMANENT, we are mourning a Beis HaMikdash, a loss which CAN BE
RESTORED. 

 

So after chatzos, we transition out of full aveilus, and we shift
into a Taanis, a fast day.  A day where
we no longer simply cry EICHA, How could you do this TO US, Gd.  We now ask ourselves, “what can WE do to
get out of this!?”

 

And to signify this change, we shift some of our practices:

       
We
get up off the ground

       
We
put on tefillin, the sign of our unique relationship with HKBH, as the gemara
says that in our tefillin it says “Shema Yisrael” and in Hashem’s tefllin it
says, “Mi K’Amcha Yisrael Goy Echad Ba’Aretz” Who is like My People Yisrael,
who are unique in the world!

       
We
lain the usual leining for a public fast day.

 

We stop wallowing in the sadness and begin the process of
reclaiming our greatness as a people.

 

And this dual element of the day is NOT contradictory.  It’s actually quite healthy.  As
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross writes in what was later termed the Stages
of Grief,
when something terrible happens to us, when we suffer
a loss, we can’t jump straight into learning life lessons.  We first have to acknowledge the pain.  We have to allow ourselves to experience the
sadness. 

 

It is only after we have processed that sadness and anger
that we become able to eventually reach the stage of acceptance, when we
can realize what has happened to us and become ready to grow from it. To be
ready to even be changed BY IT.

 

So how do we become changed by it?

 

I am now in the last semester of my Masters in Social Work
training, and this week I was sitting in a class on working with children in
therapy, and we were discussing how when a child comes in with a presenting
problem, it is the job of the therapist to not fall into the trap of seeing the
child just based on his or her behavior. 
Rather, it is critical to look at the entire picture of the child, from
a biological, psychological, and social perspective.  And one element of understanding a child’s
biological makeup is to try to uncover his or her temperament.

 

       
Is
the child adaptable or more rigid? 
Some people are more naturally flexible. 
Others are more rigid.

 

       
Is
the child naturally quick to warm up or more cautious?

 

       
Is
she by nature more optimistic or more of a glass half-empty personality?

 

There is of course much more to say on this topic, but as the
conversation continued, I began to think about how gaining a better
understanding of human development, can help us feel less frustrated and angry
with others.  Less judgmental and more
compassionate.

 

This isn’t to say that people aren’t responsible for their behavior
because they were born that way.  What I am
trying to say is that when we choose not to start with judgment, but instead to
start with CURIOUSITY about all of the complexities that make someone who they
are, it might allow us the space to find compassion and empathy, or at the very
least, allow us to harbor less resentment – which is probably better for our
own mental health too.

 

So, yes, we should spend some time on Tisha B’Av evening and
morning experiencing the aveilus of Yerushalayim. We should do our best to tap
into the SADNESS, the loss, the absolute nightmare that galus has brought us.

 

However, as morning turns to afternoon, and we get up from the
floor, we should try to find space to ask ourselves, NOT why did Hashem do this
to me, but what does Hashem WANT ME TO DO? 
How can I contribute to less animosity, less judgment, and more
understanding of other members of my people. 
Because when we do, we won’t only bring more positivity to our lives, we
will be sewing the seeds of a brighter future for us all.