Summer is fun time in America. School is out for most kids, most people take
vacations. It really is the best season of the year. So it is always a challenge to take all of
that joy and happiness and throw it out the window and be sad because it is Tisha Be’Av.
It is hard to think about the destruction of the Temple while you are sunbathing on the
beach. It is impossible to imagine getting to work and rebuilding the Temple when you
have just started your vacation.
This is the final Shabbat before Tisha Be’Av. We are about to experience
the saddest day of the Jewish year. The destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem was
a tragedy on the scale of the Holocaust. It shook the Jewish community to its very
foundations. No longer were Jews in control of their own destiny. No longer were Jews
able to practice their religion. It would take the rabbis decades, even possibly a century,
to recreate a religion that was not based upon the sacrifices in the Temple.
This period of time before Tisha Be’Av is called Bein HaMeitzarim, In the
Narrow Straits. I think this name comes from the fact that the Jews were under siege in
Jerusalem. They were truly in dire straits. They were surrounded with no means of
escape. Their choices were to fight or surrender which at best meant the end of Jewish
autonomy and at worst meant slavery. But I think that the rabbis also had a metaphorical
understanding of Bein Hameitzarim. After the Temple was destroyed and Tisha Be’Av
became a day of national mourning for Jews that is when this time was called Bein
HaMeitzarim because in mourning we also feel enclosed. Mourning causes us to turn
inward. When we are hurting terribly it is hard to see beyond ourselves. When our pain
is so great our world contracts and we can only deal with our own needs.
In trying to understand why God would allow such a horrific thing to happen the
rabbis looked inward. They sought to find a reason for the destruction that made sense
with their theology and their worldview. They would not say, they could not say, that
this was the work of an evil or cruel God; that would be blasphemy. They believed in
a good God, but they also believed in a God of justice, a God who both rewarded and
punished. So they looked inward to find a reason for this seeming punishment. And
not as a way of blaming the victim. The rabbis are very careful not to say, “Well so
and so had it coming.” But they wanted to improve themselves and improve their lives
and be better servants of God. So they looked inward and they looked at the Jewish
community that lived in Jerusalem right before the destruction and they found their
answer.
In their day and age the Jewish people were not united. They were scattered
across the Middle East with nothing that unified them. In the time before the destruction
of the Temple, Jerusalem was a city divided. Even under a Roman siege the residents
were at odds, fighting amongst themselves. Some wanted to make a deal with the
Romans so that the people and the Temple would be spared, while others, the Zealots,
wanted to fight to the death. Jerusalem as a fortress could have held out for many
years. It had its own natural spring as a water source, and the Talmud records that it had
storehouses full of grain and fire wood, enough to last for twenty-one years. But the Talmud recounts that the Zealots burned the storehouses of food to force the people to fight or starve.
The rabbis believed that the Temple was destroyed as a consequence of Sinat
Chinam, senseless hatred, hatred for no reason. If someone does something terrible to
you it is natural to be angry, even hate them. This is not what the rabbis were talking
about. Here was a situation of Jews hating Jews for no reason. They may have claimed
that there was a reason, a real reason, “Oh I hate him because he is a Pharisee and I am a
Zealot so we are enemies.” But that is no reason at all. It was simple, blind, hatred.
The Rabbis looked to history, but they also looked deep into their souls and they
came out with a powerful message about the danger of hatred. In mourning we look
inward, in pain we are closed off to the world. On Tisha Be’Av, on the day of national
Jewish mourning, we gather as a community, but we are really alone because we do not
even exchange greetings on Tisha Be’Av. We sit on the floor, we read the sad story of
the destruction of Jerusalem in Eichah, we sing sad songs, and we should just feel sorry
for ourselves. Terrible things have happened to our people for thousands of years. It is
simply tragic.
Then what happens the next day? If we go about our business as usual then we
have missed the point. The rabbis taught us a powerful lesson about the power of
suffering and pain. Just like when we mourn a loved one. We first sit shiva. We are
paralyzed by the grief. And if we are not then the rabbis have us act as if we are. We
don’t leave our house for a week, we don’t shave, we don’t wear nice clothes, we sit on
the floor or a low stool. But after a week shiva ends. We emerge from our homes and
slowly reenter the world.
When the rabbis were searching for a reason for the destruction of the Temple
they were searching for the most basic human need - to give meaning to suffering. This is
very powerful, but also very dangerous. We should not be so presumptuous as to tell
other people how to make meaning out of their suffering. But we certainly should
support people who want to make meaning out of their own suffering. We support those
who are suffering, and when the grieving is done we support them in their efforts to find
their own meaning to their tragedy.
When we mourn the destruction of the Temple we turn inward, we are in the
narrow straits, but as we emerge from Tisha Be’Av we move to an expansive place and
our gaze turns outward. The Tikkun, the reparative act, for the destruction of the Temple
is to turn outward. This Shabbat, the Shabbat before Tisha Be’Av is known as Shabbat
Hazon, the Shabbat of vision. The name comes from the first word of the Haftarah from
Isaiah, Hazon Yeshayahu, the vision of Isaiah. What is your vision? What kind of a
world do you imagine?
Yes this is one of the three Haftarot of rebuke; it is not a prophecy of a utopia. But what is Isaiah’s rebuke? The Israelites are not worshipping other gods, they are not ignoring the Temple. In fact the exact opposite is true. All they do is bring sacrifices.
And Isaiah says enough. “Vayomar Adonai ‘Savati Olot Eilim.’ And God said I am
sated with burnt offering of rams.” The people are looking for an inward answer. Things
are not going well so they need to bring more sacrifices. But Isaiah has come to tell
them that they are looking in the wrong place. They are looking inward when they need
to look outward. Verse 17, “Limdu Hietev-Learn to do good, Dirshu Mishpat-Devote
yourselves to justice, Ashru Chamotz-Aid the wronged, Shiftu Yatom-Uphold the rights
of the orphaned, Rivu Almanah-Defend the cause of the widow.” Why does Isaiah use
these metaphors of the orphan and the widow? The orphan and the widow are on the periphery of society. They are not full citizens, they do not have a say about their futures. They are dependent upon others to argue their cause. They are the voiceless.
Who are the voiceless today? What issues have you always wanted to give voice
to, but never did? How many times have you said, “That’s terrible. Something should be
done about that.” Now is the time to give a voice to those voiceless concerns. Just two
weeks ago we recounted how the daughters of Tzelofchad stood up for what they thought
was right and demanded of God and Moshe that they receive their father’s inheritance.
God’s initial reaction was, “Ken Benot Tzelofchad Dovrot” which is translated in the
chumash as “The plea of Tzelofchad’s daughter’s is just.” But a more literal translation
is “Indeed, the daughters of Tzelofchad are speaking!” How presumptuous of them!
Women, in Biblical times, speaking! Speaking about what they think is right.
They had the courage to give voice to the voiceless concerns of all women and
their courage was rewarded. Now it is our turn to have that same courage. We must
create our future. And when we give a voice to our voiceless concerns we rebuild the
Temple.
I have many Orthodox friends and colleagues and they often ask me if I pray for
the rebuilding of the Temple. I tell them honestly that I do, but it is probably not the
same Temple that they are praying will be rebuilt. To me the restoration of the Temple is
not about rebuilding a physical edifice simply to have a place to offer sacrifices. To me
the Temple is a symbol of unity, Jewish unity, but also universal unity. As the Isaiah later
prophesies, “Ki Beiti Beit Tefilah Yikareh LeChol Ha’Amim, For My house shall be
called a house of prayer for all nations.” A rebuilt Temple to me is preconditioned upon
Jewish unity. How else could we rebuild the Temple if the Jewish people were not united
in the effort? And once the Jewish people are united we can truly be a light unto the
nations, Or LaGoyim. But I’m getting ahead of myself. We must begin with the bricks
and mortar of the Temple, which are the people.
On one level the Temple is purely symbolic. The Temple is in fact a replacement
for Mount Sinai where God gave us the Torah. We do not know where Mount Sinai is.
We can not go back there for another experience of God. But the Temple is the place
where we can meet God again and again.
On another level the Temple is not symbolic at all, it is us. We can build beautiful
structures, but they are dead. It is the people who fill them who bring them alive. The
Temple that we rebuild will not be just a structure, it will be a fulfillment of our hopes
and dreams. The Temple that we rebuild is our vision for the future. The temple that we
are in now is a stepping stone to the rebuilt Temple in Jerusalem. Temple Ramat Zion
has to embody our highest ideals. Temple Ramat Zion has to be a place where we can
fulfill our hopes and dreams. And that begins with you. To paraphrase the late President
Kennedy, “Ask not what your synagogue can do for you, but what you can do for your
synagogue.”
When we see our community, our synagogue, as the vehicle to help us each fulfill
our highest hopes and dreams, then we will be on the path to redemption and the Temple
will be rebuilt speedily and in our days.
