Tisha b'Av, Talmud Torah and Marathons
Trying to connect to a day which doesn't really resonate
How do we connect to Tisha B’Av? To me, this is always a challenging question.
We are blessed with such full lives, physically, spiritually, and nationally. So it’s hard to take a day and feel a real sense of mourning, sadness, and loss.
I want to suggest one approach, based on one halacha and a mashal to a marathon.
The halacha: every year on Tisha B’Av, we learn less Torah than we normally do.
There’s a whole sugya here, but broadly speaking, you’re not allowed to do regular learning on Tisha B’Av. Only certain topics are permitted, mainly Eicha, stories of the Churban, and other tragic topics. This is based on the fact that Torah is joyous, and therefore inappropriate on a day of mourning. And even in the permitted topics, according to most opinions, you’re only allowed to learn on a basic level, simply to understand, without going in depth.
There’s also a discussion about whether there is a chiyuv Talmud Torah on Tisha B’Av or not. Maybe the permitted topics are just that, something you are allowed to learn but not obligated to.1 Either way, it’s clear: this is a day where we do less learning, of lesser depth.
On every other day of the year, we believe that learning Torah is a primary way to serve God. And on Tisha B’Av, we are disconnected. The question is why. What are we supposed to learn from this halacha?
Torah as a Placeholder
Ever since the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed and we were exiled, we were forced to fill our lives spiritually in a way that our religion wouldn’t fall apart. Had we remained tethered to the Mikdash as our primary source of spiritual inspiration, our entire foundation would have crumbled the moment it was gone. We were forced to shift our focus toward other parts of our religion that could accompany us in galus, and limud haTorah became central to that shift.
This is why so much of learning Torah is compared to elements of the Beis Hamikdash. A father whose wife just gave birth gets an aliyah, because it parallels the korban a yoledes brings. We say Birkas Hagomel after laining because kerias haTorah parallels a korban, and a korban todah is brought after surviving a crisis. Many sources describe Torah itself as our replacement for what we lost, a remnant and a placeholder for the days we don’t have a Mikdash. Like this section of selichot:
הָעִיר הַקֹּדֶשׁ וְהַמְּחוֹזוֹת,
הָיוּ לְחֶרְפָּה וּלְבִזּוֹת,
וְכָל־מַחֲמַדֶּיהָ טְבוּעוֹת וּגְנוּזוֹת,
וְאֵין שִׁיּוּר רַק הַתּוֹרָה הַזֹּאת.
וְשׁוּב בְּרַחֲמִים עַל־שְׁאֵרִית יִשְׂרָאֵל,
וְהוֹשִׁיעֵנוּ לְמַֽעַן שְׁמֶךָ.
Maybe the most important parallel is that of simcha. In the Torah, the word simcha is almost always used in connection with the Mikdash.
ושמחת לפני ה’ אלקיך אתה ובנך ובתך ועבדך ואמתך והלוי אשר בשעריך והגר והיתום והאלמנה אשר בקרבך במקום אשר יבחר ה’ אלקיך לשכן שמו שם.
דברים טז יא
There are even practical halachic ramifications to this idea. The minhag of Ashkenazim to omit birkas kohanim in chutz la’aretz is due to a lack of simcha in galus, and it is only recited on holidays where we connect to simchas hamikdash.
The Torah is also something which brings simcha. While this was always true, its centrality was emphasized when we no longer had the simcha of connecting to the visible Divine Presence in Yerushalayim.
The Danger of Getting Too Comfortable
But there’s a danger in this. If we feel so filled by the placeholder, we might stop yearning for the real thing. If connecting to Hashem through Talmud Torah is a substitute for feeling the Shechina at the Mikdash, and we enjoy the substitute too much, we lose the ache for the full expression of that connection. If we are completely fulfilled through the simcha of Talmud Torah, we will not ache for the simcha in the Mikdash.
So on Tisha B’Av, we cut back. We starve ourselves of this source of spiritual nourishment. We refrain from the simcha of learning not just to make us feel sad, but to realize that our current status is lacking, And if that makes us feel a bit distant from God, that’s good. Because as much as we strive to feel close to Him, we must be aware that so long as Har Habayit lacks a Mikdash with Shechina, there is still distance.
Our National Moment
I would like to apply this thought to our current moment, and compare it to the last stretch of a marathon.
It is hard to capture how blessed we are as a nation right now. The trajectory over the past 100 years is miraculous. From the ashes rose a renaissance of Torah learning, on a scale that has never been seen before in history. The Jewish people are gathering in the land of Israel for the first time in 2,000 years, and the Jewish population of Israel is nearly a majority of Klal Yisrael. The state itself has been a smashing success, economically, militarily, and technologically. Our main attitude to this should be gratitude and joy. But we must be careful.
The Marathon
We are running down the final stretch of the race. In most marathons, the last street is decorated with special banners and flags. We can’t confuse these decorations with the actual finish line. There is joy in having come so far, and feeling the proximity to the end is a thrill. But if we confuse this emotion with that of the actual finish line, we will let up too early. We will sing and dance on that final street, but in the official race results we will see three letters: DNF. Did not finish.
The joy of learning Torah and the joy of how far we’ve come as a nation are cut from the same cloth. Both are real, and both can trick us into celebrating like we’ve already crossed the line.
This is why we can’t learn on Tisha B’Av. By holding back from our main source of simcha and connection to Hashem, we focus on the work that still needs to be done. And hopefully that realization will motivate us to charge forward until the end.
great post. halevai we should hit the finish line soon