Why we mourn

During the period leading up to Tisha Be’av, the 9th of Av, the day of national mourning, we tend to focus our thoughts on the destruction of the Temple.

Western Wall plaza general view 370 (photo credit: REUTERS)
Western Wall plaza general view 370
(photo credit: REUTERS)
During the period leading up to Tisha Be’av, the 9th of Av, the day of national mourning, we tend to focus our thoughts on the destruction of the Temple.
There is no historical evidence that the destruction of either Temple occurred on that day. Jeremiah 52:12-13 says that the destruction of the First Temple took place on the 10th of Av and 2 Kings 25:8-9 gives the date as the 7th. Josephus states that the Second Temple was destroyed on the 10th as well, but for whatever reason rabbinic Judaism chose the 9th, and the 9th it remains.
When we think back on those times – 586 BCE and 70 CE – we should remember that the Temple, for all of its importance, was only a symbol for something else: It represented the glory of the people of Israel, with God’s presence dwelling in our midst. What was destroyed in 586 was the nation of Judah; the independence of our people, all its institutions and the very country from which so many of them were exiled.
This could easily have spelled the end of the religion of Israel and of the people of Israel. We could have been relegated to what has been called the dust-heap of history, as just another ancient people wiped out by a stronger enemy.
Would any of our sacred writings have survived? Who knows what human civilization would look like had the remnants of Israel assimilated into Babylonian civilization, worshipping “sticks and stones,” as the exiles put it to Ezekiel, their prophet, and never returning to the Land of Israel.
There are two questions that must be answered with regard to these events: What caused the destruction, and what prevented assimilation, thus making the return possible? A truly thorough answer to either of these questions is beyond the scope of this column, but let me venture a few possibilities.
The prophets, such as Jeremiah, tended to blame the destruction on moral laxity. They had strayed from the ways of God and from the terms of the covenant.
Be that as it may, Jeremiah also points out the practical problem of the disastrous geopolitical game the kings of Israel were playing, taking sides in the disputes between the great powers of the day.
Perhaps the cause was a combination of these factors.
What about the fact that we did not disappear? Here I believe that religion played a major role. It was the great biblical scholar Yekezkiel Kaufmann who posited that the new religion of Israel, with its absolute monotheism and its total negation of the pagan world and of the existence of pagan gods made it virtually impossible for the Israelites to assimilate into any other culture. They had to stand apart.
Another factor would have been the strong belief that the God of Israel would never abandon them, that although they would be punished for their transgressions, they would not be destroyed. The Torah states this and the prophets reiterated it time and again.
The very same prophets who foretold the destruction and exile of the Judeans also promised that they would return. Jeremiah, the prophet of doom and calamity, had taught, “Again shall be heard in this place... the sound of mirth and gladness, the voice of bridegroom and bride” (33:10-11). Isaiah of the Exile prophesied, “It is I who say of Jerusalem, ‘It shall be inhabited,’ and of the towns of Judah, ‘They shall be rebuilt’” (44:26).
It is very doubtful that we would have survived without these beliefs.
The calamity we commemorate on the 9th of Av is much greater than the destruction of a building, magnificent and sacred as it may have been. It was the terrible suffering, death and destruction that came upon the people of Judea, the loss of their land and of their very existence as a nation. It was also the near extinction of our people and the entire civilization and religion that was to become Judaism. For all of this we mourn. ■
The writer, former president of the International Rabbinical Assembly, is a two-time winner of the National Book Award. His latest book is The Torah Revolution (Jewish Lights).