Warriors of Holiness - אלופי עזות דקדושה: 08.08

THE SADDEST DAY

By Rabbi Arye Kaplan ZT"L

Reprinted with permission from Moziem Publishing Corp

The ninth of Av, Tisha B'Av, is the saddest day of the Jewish year. The Talmud describes it as a day that is set aside for tragedy. In both ancient and modern times, the very words "Tisha B'Av" have become synonymous with a day of gloom and mourning.

The story is told in the Book of Numbers. The Jewish people were about to enter the Promised Land, the land of Canaan. Despite the overwhelming odds, they had faith in God's ability to deliver the land into their hands. Almost as a formality, they sent spies to look over the land, to report to the people about the wonderful land God was giving them.

According to tradition, the story of Tisha B'Av began 3,276 years ago, eighteen months after the exodus from Egypt. Moses sent out twelve spies and charged them to examine the land:

See what kind of land it is. Are the people who live there strong or weak, few or many? Is the inhabited area good or bad? Are the cities where they live open or fortified? Is the soil rich or weak? Does the land have trees or not? (Numbers 12:18-20)

The twelve spies traveled through the land for forty days, and then brought back their report. The result was devastating. After seeing the mighty people and the heavily fortified cities of Canaan, their faith had been weakened. The spies claimed that:

The people living in the land are aggressive, and the cities are large and well fortified.... We cannot go forward against those people! ... They are too strong for us! (Numbers 13:28-31)

Such talk quickly weakened the newly acquired faith of the Jewish people. Their trust in God was shaken, and they doubted His ability to lead them to a certain victory. We find them in despair, lamenting the terrible fate which awaited them at the hands of the savage Canaanites: "The entire community raised a hubbub and began to shout. That night, the people wept." (ibid.,14:1).

God punished the people for this loss of faith, decreeing that they would not enter the land, but would wander in the desert for forty years, a year for each day that the spies tarried in the land of Canaan. Only their children would live to enter the Promised Land.

But there was more. For the senseless weeping and wailing, at a time when there should have been trust and faith, God decreed: "This evening you wept in vain. I will proclaim this day a day of weeping for all future generations." The Talmud tells us that this decree was sealed on the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av — on Tisha B'Av (Ta'anit 29a).

So began the tradition of Tisha B'Av. The forty years passed quickly, and the Jewish people conquered their homeland. Eventually, King Solomon built the Temple in Jerusalem, the focal point of all Jewish life and worship. Israel became an important political power, and began to ape the customs of her neighbors. Her faith again faltered and waned. Rather than an alliance with God, Israel trusted in her alliance with Egypt. The day of reckoning, the day of lamentation, dormant for 725 years— suddenly became manifest. On the ninth of Av, in the year 586 B.C.E., the Temple, the symbol of Israel's glory, the mark of God's presence in their midst, was reduced to rubble.

On that day Nebuzaradan, general of Nebuchadnezzar's Babylonian armies, came to Jerusalem:

And he burnt the house of the Lord, and the kingʹs palace, and all the houses of Jerusalem, every great manʹs house, he burnt with fire. Then, all the army of the Chaldeans that were with the general broke down the walls of Jerusalem, round about. And the rest of the people that were left in the city.. Nebuzaradan the general lead away into exile. Il Kings 25:9

The period of exile passed, and seventy years later the Temple was rebuilt, in the days of Ezra and Nechemiah. Even under the domination of the Greeks and Romans, the Jewish nation prospered. Jewish influence was to be found everywhere, in every field of endeavor, from philosophy to finance. At the height of their influence, it is estimated that there were over three million Romans who had converted to Judaism, so impressed were they with this tiny but prominent nation. But again, success went to the heads of the Jewish leaders, and faith in God became something to be ridiculed, a political tool to control the ignorant masses.

The upper class Jews were busy wending their way into society, a place where the traditions of their ancestors were of little use. The day of Tisha B'Av was again forgotten, as was its lesson.

656 years passed, until, in the year 70 C.E., disaster struck again. The Second Temple, the glory of Jerusalem, was destroyed by Titus the Roman. This time, Jerusalem itself was laid waste, her inhabitants put to the sword. An observer wrote that "blood flowed through the streets of Jerusalem like rivers." The tragedy of Tisha B'Av had come to pass.

But the tragedy did not abate with the destruction of Jerusalem. Blow after blow fell on Tisha B'Av, hammer blows that sealed the lid of the Jewish exile for 1,800 years. The last revolt of the Jews, led by Bar Kochba, was doomed with the destruction of Betar, their stronghold, on Tisha B'Av in the year 135. As a further retribution, the Roman procurator, Turnus Rufus, ploughed over the site of the Temple, obliterating every trace of the glory of Israel, fulfilling the prophesy of Jeremiah: "Zion shall be plowed into a field" (Jeremiah 26:18). This also happened on Tisha B'Av.

The exile continued. Once again the Jews were without a homeland, scattered throughout Asia, North Africa, and Europe. One of the most prominent Jewish communities was that in Spain. This era was known as The Golden Age, for Jews were given the same legal rights as Christians, and they rose to the highest social and financial positions. They became part of the intellectual elite as well, providing Spain with her finest thinkers and writers. It became so easy to forget, so easy to ignore their humble beginnings, an ancient faith, a venerable tradition. Then calamity struck: Jews were no longer welcome! The Spanish Inquisition persecuted the Jews as both heretics and infidels. The final blow was exile: all Jews were ordered to leave Spain under pain of death. The Hebrew date was — the Ninth of Av.

The lesson was to be repeated again in our own times Jewish life again reached a golden age, this time Germany. Here again, Jews attained the highest social and political status. In science and medicine, Jewish bred forgetfulness and neglect of a 4,000 year old heritage, ignorance of a promise and a faith. The "German Jew" became 200 percent German, and the Bible and prayer book were discarded in favor of Goethe and Geiger. What religious leadership still existed seemed mainly occupied in making a gracious exit from the world.

In this exciting world, there was no place for the "old fashioned" Synagogue Jew. The Sabbath Jew gave way to the market Jew, to the university Jew. The modern generation looked upon the God of their fathers as an ineffectual remnant of the ghetto. "God has grown old, He is powerless" — or so they thought.

Hitler was to teach them differently. With nothing less than miraculous precision, the drama unfolded: the persecutions, the segregation, the ghetto, the concentration camp, and then the Final Solution — "Judenreihn," the extermination of all Jews.

The stage for the Final Solution was the concentration camp of Auschwitz, where the most modern facilities for murder in the history of mankind had been constructed. Gas chambers snuffed out the lives of 800 people at a time, crematoria disposed of the bodies just as quickly, while factories rendered the fats of human beings into bars of soap. Altogether, close to 2 million Jews were slaughtered there. The gas chambers of Auschwitz were opened on July 23, 1942; the Hebrew date- the ninth of Av — Tisha B'Av.

What do we learn from Tisha B'Av? What is the lesson that rings like cold steel throughout the ages? It is that we, as Jews, are God's chosen people, and as such, have an obligation. There is no room for forgetfulness, no place for complacency. Tisha B'Av teaches us-that the alternative to full Jewish life is isolation & desolation; that the alternative to God – is destruction!

In every generation where Jews have tried to forget that they were Jews, in every age where they have tried to throw aside all tradition, where they have attempted to forget their Creator, the lesson has been re-taught. We have had many teachers: Nebuchadnezzar, Titus, Turnus Rufus, King Ferdinand and the Inquisitors, and Adolph Hitler. We have had many teachers, but have we learned the lesson?

Here in the United States, the Jews are living in another Golden Age. We live in a nation that has never known organized pogroms and persecutions against our people. Jews have achieved positions of prominence in all spheres, even rising to the highest levels of politics and government. Close to half of the Jews in the world live in the United States, and enjoy the highest standard of living and security in our history.

But American Jews are also the most complacent Jews who have ever lived. No matter what anybody may preach, no matter what lessons history has taught us, we all know that "it can't happen here."

Our Constitution gives us too many guarantees, our government is too stable, our sense of fair play is too egalitarian, for any great persecution to take place. It seems obvious that, barring any great national catastrophe, we as Jews can remain secure in the United States. However, can our Constitution, our government, or our leaders, give us any guarantee that there will not be some great upheaval in the near or distant future? In the final analysis, can we depend on the good will of man? Have we any hope other than our Father in Heaven?

On July 15, 1945, less than fifty years ago, an event occurred that changed the shape of history as we know it. At 5:30 in the morning, over a New Mexico desert, mankind created a new, awesome force, in the explosion of the first atomic bomb. Despite the frightful power unleashed, atomic energy was still a benign force. It was not until three days later that President Truman, in a top secret meeting, decided to use this weapon against human beings. The fateful decision was made on July 19, 1945. The Hebrew date: the ninth of Av — Tisha B'Av.

Many papers and books have speculated about the aftermath of a nuclear war. After a limited nuclear war, civilization might be able to resume. But has anyone speculated on the fate of the Jew? Assuming that enough people were left to continue some semblance of civilization, what would be the position of the Jew? I shudder to think of it. Every catastrophe demands a scapegoat, and the Jews have been scapegoats for centuries. Who else would be left to blame for this disaster — if not the Jews? It was a Jew — Albert Einstein — who first conceived the theory of the atomic bomb. It was a Jew — Robert Oppenheimer — who was the father of the atomic bomb. It was a Jew — Edward Teller — who fathered the hydrogen bomb. Whatever calamities would follow a nuclear war, the disaster to the Jew would be fifty-fold. Democratic ideals would evaporate, and we would be privileged to assume our traditional role —as the scapegoat.

Tisha B'Av has been observed throughout all generations as a reminder not to be complacent, not to forget. After the destruction of Jerusalem and the First Temple, people were bewildered. They asked, "How could it all have happened?" The Book of Lamentations begins by asking how:

ʺHow does she now sit solitary? The city that was full of people has become like a widow. She that was so great among the nations, a princess among states, has become a mere vassal.ʺ Lamentations 1:1

When it is too late, we can always ask, "How did it all happen?" But the wise man works to avoid tragedy. History has shown us, again and again, that God will not let the Jewish people forget their identity or their destiny. It has taught us that: "complacency always precedes calamity."

Many years ago, I heard the great Chassidic Rabbi of Klauseuberg, Rabbi Yekutiel Halberstam, remark that: in America it is very easy to be a Jew, but very difficult to want to be a Jew. The chains of materialism and conformity pull us in two directions away from our heritage. But lest we forget our identity in the midst of material comfort, let us remember the lesson of King Solomon. Our sages tell us that in the midst of all his glory, King Solomon wore a ring inscribed with the words: "Gam zo ya'avor —this too shall pass away."

Material wealth and power are here today — gone tomorrow, but faith in God is eternal. We have nothing and no one to lean upon except— Our Father in Heaven.

We pray that God will spare us from all evil and calamity, and that He will instill in us the faith of our fathers and the fortitude of our ancestors.

Cause us to return to You, O Lord, and we well return (unto you). Renew our days as of old! Lamentations 5:21.

Excerpt from Rabbi Kaplan's Book "Faces & Facets" by Moziem Publishing Corp. Rabbi Kaplan taught these words over thirty years ago- His farseeing insight is uncannily pertinent in our current-day situation.

For this and other publications of Rabbi Kaplan zt"l contact Mozaim at 718-853-0525