Can you feel it? The collective holding-of-their-breadth by world Jewry as nearly 16 million await news from Israel and beyond.
Will Iran avenge the deaths of Ismail Haniyeh of Hamas and Fuad Shukr of Hezbollah by striking back on Judaism’s ninth day of the month of Av (Tisha B’Av), the day Jews commemorate the destruction of the first and second temples, in 586 BCE and 70 CE, respectively, the expulsion from Spain in 1492 and other calamities through the millennia?
Tisha B’Av begins Monday evening. It ends Tuesday at sundown.
Moslems have attacked Israel on Jewish holidays. In 1973, Syria and Egypt attacked on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the holiest day of the Jewish year. Last October 7, Hamas attacked on the sabbath that coincided with Simchat Torah, one of the most joyous of holidays celebrating the fulfillment of the annual ritual of completing the weekly readings of the Five Books of Moses.
Unlike its mindset for those two surprise attacks, Israel this time would be ready, ready to defend and strike back in force. That doesn’t make holding one’s breadth any easier.
Tisha B’Av retains particular relevance for the generations of Jews who spent their summers attending Jewish camps. Idyllic country settings were transformed into somber scenes filled with mournful dirges, respectful silence, fasting for at least half a day, even for the youngest campers, and a general feeling of thoughtful reflection on persecution.
The ceremony commemorating my first Tisha B’Av at Camp Massad Aleph 68 years ago remains in my memory. Since Jewish days begin at sunset, we ate dinner early. After the meal the staff rearranged the dining hall, turning benches over on their sides. Lights were shut off. On top of every bench, four to a bench, candles inside scooped out potatoes were placed, to provide light by which we sang in Hebrew the Book of Lamentations.
You can imagine the first impression this austere ceremony had on a boy of seven, and my subsequent 14 years at various camps. The fireworks of a Fourth of July did not hold a candle to the evocative sorrow of Tisha B’Av.
I cannot say my adult observance of Tisha B’Av has been as encompassing. I haven’t fasted in years. Decades, actually. Still, I mark the day each year, this year more tremulously than in the past. Even after the day passes, whatever Iran does or does not, I will continue to hold my breadth.
