This article was constructed with the help of either writings, lectures or shiurim of
Rabbi’s Yissachar frand, Baruch Dopelt
Fasting is not the easiest and the most popular aspect of Judaism, however, one is required unequivocally to do so. It’s part of the package deal. There are six fasts in our Jewish calendar year. The way to remember them is by this little rhyme: boy, girl, long, short, black and white. Boy is Tzom Gedalia; Girl is Ta’anit Esther; long is 17 of Tamuz (for it’s the longest); short is 10 of Tevet; White is Yom Kippur and black is the 9th of Av. Interestingly, black is always associated with the 9th of Av because of the major bad luck the Jewish nation had experienced. Our sages teach that the ninth day of Av is a cursed day that is eternally destined for bad luck and tragedy. Over the years we have wrote of tragedies that have fallen upon us starting from the three weeks leading up to the fast day. This year, perhaps what looms in many is the dangerous Iran nuclear deal with the United States which was finalized during this period. What a disaster!!
The first nine days of the Hebrew month of Av, culminating with the fast of Tisha b’Av, are days of national mourning, when we contemplate the nearly 2,000-year-long galut, the physical and spiritual displacement of our nation.
No one likes being sad. People gravitate to happy moments. We always reminisce subconsciously selecting and magnifying the good times of our lives and abandoning the unhappy moments. Interestingly, even when we recall a negative aspect of our past it’s usually sugarcoated and minimized. That’s human nature. We prefer the smiley Politician, the happy home maker, the cheery waiter, the polite banker.
Though festivities are inappropriate for these days, there is one avenue of joy that is permitted-joy associated with serving G-d, the joy of a mitzvah, in particular a siyum (the completion of a tractate of the Talmud-which is both a mitzvah as well as an academic feat). In fact, the celebration of certain mitzvot overrides the sorrowful nature of the moment, and calls for a seudat mitzvah-a celebratory mitzvah meal during which course the mourning practices of these days are relaxed. On those celebrations in particular meat which is usually prohibited during the 9 days is served. Some even allow music.
My friend invited me to one of those; however, it seemed a little odd. I suspected since he being a big party goer and his neighborhood always is a little excessive of serving the best of everything at kiddushes, weddings, bar mitzvot, this invite was sort of forced out of sheer effort to party. A sham you might say; an excuse to eat pastrami and garlic hotdogs. Perhaps to say, hey we can do it in the confines of Halacha-HA- HA. However, there is a deeply rooted, mind boggling, reason for having this festive occasion during the nine days and it makes perfect logical sense!!!There is a Gemara in tractate Shabbat that mentions Abaya – one of the prominent figures of the Talmud would pay for the celebration of his friend’s completion of a tractate and invite the entire Rabbinical body, making it a public display, even though it was thought to be a private event.
There is a Chassidic tradition where there is participation in a siyum during each of these nine days!! The question is why? Why some do celebrate deliberately? Isn’t that act putting a slight on the mourning period; isn’t that insulting the ones who perished on account of that day? Isn’t that putting salt on the wound of the bitter pill our ancestors experienced? One has to realize the ramifications of these dark days. Tisha B’Av is brutal. Do people realize it’s Tisha B’Av!!
Let’s examine a few famous incidences in our history in particular, Rabbi Akiva, Moshe and Apter Rebbe and perhaps we will get a better understanding of this action.
During the period of Sefirat HaOmer, 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva died. Our sages say it was because they did not show proper respect for one another [Yevamot 62b]. This seems to be a rather serious punishment for such a light offense. Why were they deserving of such harsh judgment?
Perhaps, film writers took their romantic story line from this particular Gemara. It sure sounds familiar. The Talmud [Kesubot 62b] relates the story of an ignorant shepherd named Akiva, who Rachel – the daughter of the wealthy Kalba Savua wished to marry. She fell in love with him according to the Gemara, because he was “modest and a good person”. She knew that if he would apply himself to Torah studies, he would become a great scholar. Her father threatened that he would disown and disinherit her if she married such an ignoramus. She married him anyway. They were paupers for 24 years. We know the rest of the story.
Tosfot (one of the prominent commentaries in the Talmud) in Tractate Ketubot asks how it could be that the Gemara there describes Rabbi Akiva as a “good person” when the Talmud elsewhere [Pessachim 49b] says that Rabbi Akiva (when he was an ignoramus) used to hate Torah scholars and would (if he could) bite into them like a donkey. Boy, that sounds familiar, it seems like history repeats itself. I know a few of those that have sharp teeth. Tosfot answers that Rabbi Akiva expressed this attitude not out of hatred for Torah scholars per se, but out of resentment that they kept themselves aloof from the masses. He perceived (perhaps erroneously) haughtiness on their part and therefore could not stand such perceived arrogance.
Tosfot means that Akiva was, in fact, a good person – so good that he could not tolerate it when others put on airs and looked down on the masses. He felt that this was an affront to other (simpler) people and – good person that he was – felt an urgency to defend the honor of even simple people who were ignoramuses.
Given the fact that Rabbi Akiva was such a righteous and pious individual when it came to defending the rights of even simple ignoramuses, the critique of his students was all that much greater for not following in their master’s footsteps regarding showing honor for their fellow students. For that harsh critique, they unfortunately died during the days of the Omer.
So we see the important emphasis Rabbi Akiva places on “love thy fellow man like yourself”
Another interesting aspect of our concept of brotherly love is this story of the Chassidic Rabbi called the Apter Rebbe.
The Apter Rebbe was known by his book called Ohev Yisrael [lover of Israel]. The Apter Rebbe was, as the name of this book implies, an exceptional proponent of the commandment of loving one’s fellow Jew. He was accustomed to say that in every single Torah portion there is an allusion to Ahavat Yisrael (the mitzvah of loving a fellow Jew).
One of his Chassidim came to him and asked where such allusion was to be found in Parshas Balak. A general reading of this parsha certainly turns up no such reference.
The Rebbe looked at the Chossid in surprise and told him there was an obvious allusion — the name BaLaK is an acronym for the words V’ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha [You shall love your neighbor as yourself] [Vayikra 19:18]! The Chossid looked at the Rebbe in surprise and protested, “But Rebbe, Balak is spelled Bet Lamed Kuf and the words in the pasuk [verse] teaching we should love our neighbor begin with the letters Vov Lamed Chaf? – You are matching a Bet with a Vov and a Kuf with a Chaf to make this allusion!” [The matched letters make the same sounds, but are different letters.]
The Apter Rebbe responded with something that was more than just a whimsical quip. He responded with a profound insight saying: “You have been my Chossid all these years. Haven’t you learned yet that when it comes to ‘Ahavat Yisrael’, you can’t be so precise about the exact lettering “?
The Apter Rebbe knew very well how to spell Balak. But he was teaching his disciple the lesson that when it comes to Ahavat Yisrael, there must be an elasticity. We have to cut people flak. We have to be a little more tolerant, a little more open, a little more willing to bend.
Love thy neighbor like yourself requires tolerance, patience, this is what the Alter is trying to convey.
One of the most impressive displays of psychological tactics to subdue a nation in the history of the world was Pharaoh – the King of Egypt. By luring in the Israelites into slavery was a masterful plan. However, Pharaoh underestimated Moshe’s Empathy For His Brethren.
The enslavement was so intense that even when Moshe came to Klal Yisrael to announce their impending redemption, the pasuk [verse] informs us that “They were unable to listen to him out of shortness of spirit and hard work.” [Shmot 6:9]
Rav Yonasan Eibeshutz [Tiferet Yonatan] asks why Pharaoh excused the entire Tribe of Levy from servitude. It seems uncharacteristic of the ruthless ruler to give such a courtesy. Rav Yonasan Eibeshutz answers that Pharaoh saw through his astrologers that the eventual redeemer of Israel would come from this tribe. Pharaoh reasoned that a person who was not part of the pain and suffering of the people would never be able to redeem them. Simply, he would not be able politically to rally the people behind him. The masses would discount his ability to lead them by virtue of the fact that he was not one with them during their time of suffering.
This indeed is how Rav Yonatan Eibeshutz interprets the above referenced pasuk. The people were not able to listen to Moshe because of the fact that they had experienced shortness of spirit and hard work – and he never had. Moshe lived in the lap of luxury. They were not ready to listen to him or to let him become their redeemer!
Pharaoh’s logic seemed very reasonable. So where did he go wrong? His error was that he underestimated what the Torah highlights as the most prominent character trait of Moshe. If we look back in Parshat Shmot, we notice that there is very little we are told about Moshe before he became the leader. We are told “Vayigdal Moshe” [Moshe grew up], which Rashi says means he became prominent in Pharaoh’s household – he became a prince. He could have stayed in the luxury of the palace and sufficed with saying a few chapters of Tehillim for his brethren. But Moshe went out. He went out to see what was happening with his brothers and he saw their suffering. He risked his life by killing the Egyptian, thereby taking part in the misery and the drama of his brethren’s enslavement. He identified not only with the “macro” suffering of his brothers, but with that of each individual, as indicated by his rescue of the unfortunate Jew being beaten by the Egyptian. Even when two Jews were fighting, he came to the rescue of the victim, again demonstrating his attribute of empathy and association for the burden of his fellow man (noseh b’ol chaveiro). In Midyan, he again came to the rescue of Yisro’s daughters because his personality could not tolerate oppression. Finally, we are told that he watered the flocks.
In all these descriptions, the Torah emphasizes over and over again that Moshe demonstrated the character trait that Pharoah thought he would never have – the attribute of empathy for the suffering of others. Logically, Pharaoh was right, but he underestimated Moshe’s strength of character that despite the fact that he was not part of the enslavement, he did feel the pain as acutely as anyone who experienced it personally. There are many examples we can bring from the Torah and the pattern all equals to AHAVAT YISRAEL. G-d is promoting unity. He didn’t destroy the generation of the tower of Bavel because the culprits showed some degree of unity. Can one imagine how G-d would feel if we showed a genuine feeling toward our brethren.
The Sages have said that the primary reason for the Temple’s destruction was the lack of love and harmony between Jews. Sharing in the joy of another, the one who completed the tractate, is a demonstration of Jewish unity-which reverses the cause for our predicament, and therefore brings it to an end. For this reason we purposely have the siyum. It is this action, the happy cherished moment even with people one doesn’t know, fixes what was broken and would turn the black Tisha B’Av into a united festive party.
