Tisha B'Av From Grief and Catharsis to Hope and Rebirth An Interpretation of the Customs of Tisha B'Av (Adapted mainly from R. Irving Greenberg: The Jewish Way, Summit Books, 1988) Re-enactment of past tragedy Rabbi Irving Greenberg has pointed out that the dominant model of the fast is to reenact past tragedy. Reliving and remembering these sorrows, he notes, is the key to overcoming history's setbacks. By experiencing the tragedy afresh every year, Jews can never become reconciled either to the destruction of the Temple or the Exile. "Every year it is as if the tragedy has just occurred and the shock is still fresh. So Jews taste the dregs of defeat and suffering even when they experience success and peace in their daily lives." Greenberg adds that this kind of "replay" helps people become more sensitive to those who suffer and need help. "This is the messianic spirit, the faith that builds on the sands of despair, the faith that knows death and fights it." Imagery of grief for loved one While the primary model is reenactment, the halacha also draws upon its imagery of grief for a dead member of the immediate family. In that case, the seven days of mourning and the outpouring of the heart follow the death of the departed. However, when reliving historical tragedy, notes Greenberg, one knows the outcome at the outset. Thus the sense of doom and grief builds up before the day actually arrives and the emphasis switches to the renewal of life. Tisha B'Av is thus seen as the culmination of a series of minor fasts that began with 10th Tevet, the day on which the siege of Jerusalem began in 586 BCE. The Night of Tisha B'Av For the night service of Tisha B'Av, the curtain of the Ark in the synagogue is removed and the sanctuary is kept in semi-darkness. This recalls the act of Hester Panim, (lit. the 'hiding of God's face'), suggests Greenberg. In tragedy, we experience "the eclipse of God" and live in a void and empty universe: it is as if the Divine Presence had abandoned the physical Temple. The sense of gloom is heightened by the reading of the Book of Lamentations and dirges (Kinnot)), as well as the discomfort of sitting on the floor or low benches. Rabbi Greenberg calls this the anti-Exodus structure. Rather than celebrating freedom from slavery with good food and clothes, we mark the move from freedom to slavery. The Book of Lamentations The Book of Lamentations is an intricate set of dirges and descriptions of Jerusalem under siege and of the destruction of Jerusalem. "The elegy bewails Jerusalem once teeming with life and now sitting abandoned... It captures the horror of siege: children pleading for water, cannibalism of hunger-maddened mothers, priests defiled..." The sinning people are blamed, God is questioned, and faith is just about restored, as the memory of His kindnesses are recalled. Mirroring a sense of doom The book is read softly, mirroring the morbid atmosphere. The prayers abound in the sense of rejection. Thus the request for one's prayers to be accepted (titkabel) is omitted from the Kadddish prayer, as in the house of the mourner. Some sleep without a pillow or soft mattress to express further the sense of unease and discomfort. The next day, maintaining the spirit of abjection, one refrains from greeting friends and neighbors. Worshippers also desist from wearing the Tallit (prayer shawl) and Tefillin (phylacteries) during the morning service since they symbolize glory and decoration. Only in the afternoon - "when the finality of of the Destruction has sunk in" - are the Tallit and Tefillin put on. Also, during the day, while some special prayers of remorse and petition are included in the private and public prayers (the Amidah), others are omitted as being inappropriate in mood. Hope not lost Indeed, changes in mood are critical to the rhythm of the day. This can be observed in the deletion of the traditional Tachanun or Penitential Prayer (of all prayers!) from center stage in the service, after the Amidah. With fascinating insight Greenberg notes that just as defeat and despair seem to overwhelm, the balance tilts, and the Jew makes the countervailing move: In the depths of defeat, he anticipates rebirth and triumph. As such, at this point in the prayers, Tisha B'Av has adopted a new mode and is now referred to [in the Code of Jewish Law] as an 'assembly day,' or mo'ed. As such, the drift is now towards hope, and it is now suddenly inappropriate to self-indulge in prayers of desperation. As the day progresses The following Torah reading of the day similarly touches on the dual themes of exile and return. This is then followed by the reading of the Kinnot which usually occupies the bulk of the morning. The Kinnot are a collection of elegies and laments largely written by the Spanish poets (11th cent.), covering many of the tragedies of Jewish history. "No one generation's grief," notes Greenberg, "could be the sole focus of this day." Work and business activity are restricted during the day, at least until the afternoon. Now the new reality grows and Tallit and Tefillin are adorned, missed prayers are added and a circumcision of a new born child can now take take place. In line with the fast, the associated festive meal is postponed till the end of the day. With the passing of the day When the day is over the ceremony of the new moon is recited. In kabbalah, the ceremony expresses the hope for the Messiah and that all of nature and history will be restored to wholeness and perfection. The reenactment does not end abruptly, Rabbi Greenberg notes; it tapers off. Some of the mourning practices - such as eating meat - are carried over till the tenth Av. The Temple was still burning; our grief lingers. And one takes time to ponder on the meaning of Tisha B'Av in our times. One looks back to the pogroms and the Holocaust and considers, too, what ills of humanity still need to be corrected in our day.