Parshat Devarim / Hazon 5767

I once heard Rabbi Harold Kushner tell the story of a family he knew growing up in Brooklyn that was ardently secular and anti-religious. This was the kind of family that went out of its way to eat on Yom Kippur. They made a point, however, of fasting on Tisha B’av. When Kushner asked why they did this, they explained that they while they thought that ideas like sin and repentance was mumbo jumbo, they fully understood how important it is to remember the suffering of the Jewish people, and to grieve for the national losses that we’ve experienced.

Coming from a totally different place, there is a Chasidic saying that makes a similar point. “On Yom Kippur who wants to eat, and on Tisha B’av who can eat?” When we think about the suffering of our people throughout history, beginning with the destruction of the two temples and continuing into our own times, how can one sit down and eat a meal on the day historically connected with these events? You don’t have to be a believer to observe Tisha B’av. Tisha B’av is not a matter of faith or belief. This day addresses the hard and cold facts of history. This week we mourn for our people – not only for our past but for the immediate present as well. We mourn for the people who have had to flee from their homes and the families that mourn the loss of sons and daughters. We mourn for families whose sons have been taken captive and for our people because the peace we so desire is still so far away.

I found myself wondering this week about the connection between fasting and Tisha B’av. At first glance fasting and Tisha B’av don’t seem to go hand in hand. The ninth of Av is, after all, a day of national mourning for the Jewish people. Many of the customs that we observe on this day are connected with avaylut, with Jewish grief practices. We sit on low chairs and chant the book of lamentations in plaintive tones. We walk around bare foot or at least in non-leather shoes just as mourners do. We refrain from studying Torah on Tisha B’av because the study of Torah is said to cause us joy. One day a year we become avaylim, we all become mourners who sit Shiva for the sorrow and suffering of our people.

But what does all of this have to do with fasting? Fasting, after all, is an expression of remorse and not grief; it is a way of showing that we are prepared to sacrifice our comforts in an effort to return to God in repentance. Fasting is associated with Yom Kippur, a Day of Atonement and return, when we confess our sins and resolve to renew our relationship with God. Fasting is not necessarily associated with grief or sorrow in the Jewish tradition. In fact because fasting is an opportunity for renewal, there is even an element of joy in fasting. If so, why do we fast on the ninth of Av? There are many things that are asked of a mourner but fasting is not one of them!

Tisha B’av, I’d like to suggest, is really a combination of both grief and remorse; it is a combination of avaylut and Yom Kippur.

On Tisha B’Av we mourn the catastrophes that have marred our history. But we also take advantage of this day as an opportunity to contemplate our own role in these events. By fasting we express the idea that we are not simply victims of events beyond our control – we are responsible for our own destiny as well. This idea is powerfully expressed in the third chapter of Eichah, the book of Lamentations. Having bemoaned his terrible suffering, the author says: “Whose decree was ever fulfilled unless the Lord willed it? ...Of what shall a person complain? Each one his own sins! Let us search and examine our ways, and turn back to the Lord…”

But this idea troubles us. It suggests that we are responsible for our own suffering. There has been so much suffering in Jewish history; why should we turn around and cause ourselves further pain by suggesting that somehow we deserve the pain and anguish that has been inflicted upon us. Did we deserve to have our temple burned to the ground and our people exiled from their land? The words of Lamentations are devastating. We read of sons and daughters carried off in exile; of mothers who consume their own children out of hunger! No matter what our ancestors may have done they did not deserve to suffer in this way.

What of the people who were exiled from their homes in Spain in 1492? The Jews of Spain created one of the most vibrant cultures in our history – and yet it was all taken away from them in a single decree. And how about the million and a half children who died in the Holocaust – what did these children do to deserve such a fate? To suggest that there is a connection between Tisha B’av and Yom Kippur is troubling at best and obscene at worse.

Several years back, a school bus driver in Israel lost control of his bus and went over a cliff – children were killed and maimed. At the time certain religious leaders in Israel suggested that the reason this tragedy took place was that these families had not checked their mezuzot. I can’t think of a crueler or more obscene comment – to suggest that these families were responsible for their own anguish. Yet how is this different from the suggestion that the Jewish people are responsible for its own national catastrophes? If we fast as a means of atonement on Tisha B’av then I am deeply troubled by this day. To fast out of a sense of grief on this day is one thing. To do so because of remorse and guilt is all together different.

So what are we to say? Are we responsible for our own suffering? And how are we to understand God’s role in the tragedies which we mark this coming week? Tisha B’Av seems to suggest that all this is punishment – and that is something that we simply can’t accept in the generation after the holocaust.

These questions go to the very heart of our theological reflections as Jews…and ultimately these questions are unanswerable. We affirm our belief in free will and yet we also believe in God’s presence in the universe. Yet these two sets of beliefs do not always go hand in hand.

We cannot answer these question but we can learn from them. Maybe we are meant to wrestle with these questions. By making Tisha B’av not only into a day of sorrow but also a day of remorse we Jews affirm our belief that we are not victims – that we ultimately have control of our own destiny – and that even when bad things happen we still make our own choices. Sorrow is an opportunity for self-reflection – and self reflection often inspires remorse. Who hasn’t felt regret about the choices they have made. Self reflection is a chance for us to rise above circumstances and to take control of our lives. We fast on Tisha B’av in order to spend time in self reflection and to understand our place in the universe. Rather than feeling sorry for ourselves we can ask ourselves how we should live our lives.

Are we responsible for our own suffering? Some times we are and often we are not. Either way we need not be helpless victims – we always have choices. We can always say yes to life and to meaning and to purpose.

After the Holocaust we can no longer say, “Of what shall a person complain? Each one of his own sins.” Life is not that simple. Tisha B’av is not just an expression of grief but an opportunity to reflect on God’s place in the universe. I do not believe God is simply acting upon us – I believe we live in partnership with God and that we must make choices that will affect our destiny and that of those who follow us.

In these dark hours we need Tisha B’av more than ever. We need to remember our past but we also need to develop a sense of hope that we are not merely victims of others. We can and do make choices. Just as Yom Kippur is a day of renewal, Tisha B’av is an opportunity to renew ourselves, to rise above the ashes and to follow a new path in our lives.

There is a tradition that the Messiah will come on Tisha B’av. This day begins with grief. It leads to reflection and remorse. But out of this reflection resolve and hope are born.