Jewish World Review / August, 1998 / Menachem-Av, 5758
We explained how that although G-d is
everywhere,
the Beis haMikdash had been the central address where G-d
could
be more easily found, and it was the place to where all Jews
used
to make thrice yearly pilgrimages. This dinner, we told her,
was
the beginning of a very sad day, and that the whole next day
we
would be fasting to show our deep sorrow.
This seemed to satisfy her, if only temporarily. The
day
after Tisha b'Av she found us back in our chairs, wearing
shoes,
and eating a regular meal. Her innocent and sincere question
now
was: Has the Beis haMikdash been rebuilt?
Her point was well taken, of course, and she, in
her
simplicity, stumbled upon an idea discussed in the Talmudic tractate of Baba Batra (60b). It is suggested that in our
extreme
sadness over the destruction of the second Beis haMikdash,
there
should be a ban on eating meat and drinking wine until the
Temple
is rebuilt. The Talmud's response is that such a reaction
to
tragedy can be taken to extremes that would lead to bans on
many
aspects of normal life. Instead, normal life must continue,
but
with reminders of this national tragedy sprinkled throughout.
We
thus mourn the destruction of the Beis haMikdash at certain
time
periods that are designated for mourning, such as Tisha b'Av
and
the three weeks leading up to it. In addition, we have a slew
of
customs that are intended to remind us of the Beis haMikdash
and
its destruction that are included in our daily lives and
at
various life cycle events.
In order to explain this to Shlomit we took out our
wedding
album and showed her the breaking of the glass. Even at our
most
joyous occasions we do not suppress the lingering sorrow over
the
still unbuilt Beis haMikdash. At all weddings a glass
is
shattered to remind us of the tragedy. In addition, many have
the
custom of placing ashes on the groom's head as an
additional
reminder.
At times of personal sorrow, the national mourning is
also
duly commemorated. The standard formula for consoling a
mourner
is: hamakom yenachem eschem besoch sha'ar avlei
tzion
v'yerushalayim --- may G-d comfort you among the mourners
of
Jerusalem and Zion. We are telling that mourner that he is
not
alone in his mourning. We are all still grieving the loss of
our
beloved Jerusalem that is not fully rebuilt.
A custom that has seen a resurgence in popularity in
recent
years, especially in Israel, is the Talmudic mandate to leave
an
area approximately 2 feet by 2 feet opposite the entrance of
the
house unplastered. This too is a sign of mourning for the
Beis
haMikdash. A contemporary take on this is to cover the area
with
a piece of artwork that indicates the reason for it being
left
unplastered.
Other memorial customs are location dependent. For
example,
although the general talmudic attempt to ban all music
in
mourning over Jerusalem's destruction has not taken hold,
there
is to this day a widely observed proscription on
instrumental
music in Jerusalem's Old City. And just like a mourner rents
his
garments in despair (kriya), so too is there a custom to
tear
kriya when seeing the desolate Temple Mount. This practice
is
widely observed, and visitors who have not been to the
Western
Wall in more than 30 days can be seen ripping their shirts.
There are customs that are observed today to remind us
how
things were practiced in the Temple. On Sukkos we shake the
"four
species" for a full seven days. According to biblical law
the
lulav was used for seven days in the Temple and only one
day
elsewhere. Now that there is no Temple, the lulav is
used
everywhere for seven days as a reminder of the observance in
the
Temple. Similarly, at the Passover seder, a "sandwich" of
matzah
and marror (bitter herbs) is eaten to commemorate how it was done in the
Temple.
On Chanukah, in addition to the menorah that is lit in the
house,
one is also kindled along the southern wall of the
synagogue.
Again, to emulate what was done in the Beis haMikdash.
As Jerusalem and the Temple are mourned and remembered,
so
we hope they will be speedily rebuilt. This fervent wish has
been
incorporated into the daily prayers said thrice daily, the
grace
after meals said after every meal, and in the closing liturgy
of
two of the most important days on our calendar. The
Neilah
service at the end of Yom Kippur and the seder on Passover
both
conclude with the moving phrase: "Next Year in
rebuilt
Jerusalem." The essential Yom Kippur ritual was not praying
all
day in synagogue, but rather the service of the high priest
in
the Jerusalem Temple. The name "Passover" actually refers to
the
Paschal sacrifice that was offered in the Temple. It is on
those
days that the absence of the Temple is most acutely felt
and
therefore it is on those days that our hope for its
restoration
is verbalized.
Shlomit continues to ask if the Beis haMikdash has
been
rebuilt and if not, what can we do to make it happen. We try
to
explain to her that if we as Jews are "good", it will help
make
the time right for G-d to rebuild the Beis haMikdash. She,
of
course, insists that she is good. Other than that, we
explain
that although life must continue as usual, we try to not let
the
absence of the Beis haMikdash stray too far from our minds
even
after the Tisha b'Av fast is
Remembering
what was ... and
what yet can be
Children not only say the
darndest things ---- they cause
us to think, observes Ari
Zivotofsky.
LAST TISHA B'AV eve, my then three year old daughter
Shlomit
was surprised to find her parents sitting on the floor,
shoeless,
eating a "dinner" of bread, hard boiled eggs sprinkled
with
ashes, and water. In response to her bewildered query,
we
explained that we were showing sadness for the burning of
the
Beis haMikdash (Holy Temple in Jerusalem) by very bad
people a
long time ago.
Ari Zivotofsky is a writer based in suburban Washington, D.C.