The Day History Refuses to Forget: What Tisha b’Av Still Demands of Us

Shalom all.

Every nation has its anniversaries – days of triumph, independence, or remembrance. But few have a date like yesterday, Tisha b’Av, the Ninth of the Hebrew month of Av, a day that seems to gather catastrophe into itself as if history chose a single point on the calendar to return to, again and again, with a warning. Across centuries, empires have risen and fallen, yet this date persists – quietly, solemnly – calling the Jewish people not only to mourn, but to reflect, to question, and perhaps most urgently, to change. 

To understand Tisha b’Av is to step into a long arc of history that stretches from the destruction of ancient Jerusalem to the complexities of modern Israel. It is not merely a religious fast day; it is a lens through which past failures and present challenges come sharply into focus.

A Pattern of Destruction
The origins of Tisha b’Av lie in two defining calamities: the destruction of the First Temple by the Babylonians in 586 BCE, and the destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans in 70 CE. According to Jewish tradition, both occurred on the same date – the Ninth of the month of Av – an alignment so striking that it shaped centuries of theological and historical reflection.

Scholars and bloggers often emphasize that these events were not simply military defeats. They were the culmination of internal fractures – political infighting, moral decline, and what rabbinic tradition famously calls sinat chinam, baseless hatred among Jews themselves. But primarily, these events happened because most of Israel, as a nation, distanced themselves from God. 

This interpretation is echoed in more analytical and policy-oriented publications, which frequently frame historical collapse not only as the result of external enemies, but of internal vulnerabilities. The lesson is not lost: nations rarely fall solely because of their adversaries; they fall when internal cohesion erodes.

Beyond the Temples: A Date Marked by Tragedy
As Jewish history unfolded, more tragedies seemed to gravitate toward this date. The fall of Betar in 135 CE, crushing the Bar Kokhba revolt; the expulsion of Jews from England in 1290 and from Spain in 1492; and later associations drawn with events in more modern history – all became part of the collective memory of Tisha b’Av.

Media commentaries often highlight how these accumulated memories transformed Tisha b’Av into something more than an historical commemoration. It became a repository of exile itself – a symbolic anchor for the Jewish experience of displacement, loss, and endurance.

Even more populist or advocacy-driven platforms frame the day as part of a broader narrative of survival, connecting ancient destruction to modern threats facing Israel. While their tone may differ from more academic outlets, the underlying message converges: history is not distant; it is present.

Causes Beneath the Catastrophe
The fast associated with Tisha b’Av is not only about what happened, but why it happened. Rabbinic tradition is unusually introspective in this regard. It does not attribute the destruction solely to Babylon or Rome, but turns inward, identifying corruption, injustice, and internal division as central causes.

Modern analysis mirrors this ancient introspection with commentators often pointing to polarization and societal fragmentation as key risks in contemporary states, including Israel. Similarly, essays circulated through more liberal-leaning newsletters explore the cultural and ideological divides within Jewish communities worldwide.

Even publications with broader geopolitical lenses or opinion-driven platforms frequently emphasize the dangers of internal discord, albeit through different ideological frameworks. Across the spectrum, one theme emerges with striking consistency: division weakens resilience.

Tisha b’Av in Modern Israel
In today’s Israel, Tisha b’Av is observed in ways that blend ancient ritual with modern sensibility. Synagogues fill at night for the reading of Eicha (the Book of Lamentations), its haunting poetry echoing through Jerusalem and beyond. Many sit on the floor or low stools, dim lighting replacing the usual brightness – a physical embodiment of mourning.

The streets, particularly in religious neighborhoods, grow quieter. While not as universally observed as Yom Kippur, the atmosphere is palpably different. In Jerusalem, the Western Wall becomes a focal point, with thousands gathering in subdued reflection.

Coverage in Israel-linked media often captures this duality: a modern, bustling State that pauses – if only partially – to remember its ancient losses.

At the same time, secular Israelis may engage with the day more culturally than religiously. Some attend public readings or discussions about social unity and historical memory. Others treat it as an opportunity to reflect on national identity in a broader sense. This diversity of observance itself reflects the complexity of Israeli society itself.

Memory as Responsibility
But, Tisha b’Av is not only about remembering destruction; it is about preventing its recurrence. This is where the day’s message becomes both timeless and urgent.

An important point that needs to be stressed is that national resilience depends on more than just military strength – it requires social cohesion, shared purpose, and functional institutions. These insights resonate deeply with the traditional teachings associated with Tisha b’Av.

Similarly, commentary across Jewish and Israeli media returns again and again to the understanding that the Second Temple was lost not merely because of Rome, but because of internal division. The implication is clear: the lessons of Tisha b’Av are not confined to antiquity.

What It Means for Us Today
For a modern reader – whether in Israel or the diaspora – Tisha b’Av poses uncomfortable questions. Are we more unified than those who came before us? Have we learned to balance disagreement with mutual respect? Can a society remain strong if its internal bonds are fraying?

These are not abstract concerns. In an era marked by political polarization, cultural clashes, and rapid change, the themes of Tisha b’Av feel strikingly contemporary. The warnings embedded in this day are not relics; they are diagnostics.

Even across ideologically diverse platforms, there is a shared recognition that unity, however difficult, is indispensable. And, of course, it finds its way into political discourse, particularly now, in an election year. The forms of expression may vary, but the conclusion converges: survival is not guaranteed by strength alone.

A Day That Looks Forward
Paradoxically, Tisha b’Av is also a day of hope. Jewish tradition teaches that the Messiah is born on this day, a symbolic assertion that from the depths of destruction can emerge the seeds of redemption. 

This idea reframes the day entirely. Mourning is not an end in itself; it is a catalyst for renewal. By confronting the causes of past failures, individuals and societies can begin to chart a different future.

In today’s Israel, this forward-looking aspect is increasingly emphasized. Discussions about unity, resilience, and shared destiny often accompany the traditional observances. The day becomes not only a remembrance of what was lost, but a commitment to what can still be built.

The Enduring Message
Tisha b’Av endures because it refuses to let history fade into abstraction. It insists that the past remains relevant – that the same forces that once led to destruction can reappear in new forms.

Across the wide spectrum of media, the underlying lesson resonates: resilience is not only about defending against external threats but about strengthening internal bonds.

If there is one message that Tisha b’Av carries into the present, it is this: history does not merely happen to us. It is shaped by our choices – by how we treat one another, by how we handle disagreement, and by whether we can sustain a sense of shared purpose even in times of strain.

The Ninth of Av is, ultimately, a mirror. It reflects not only what was lost, but what is at stake. May its message resound not only throughout this land, but throughout the world.

“Weeping may last for the night, But a shout of joy comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)

Shabbat Shalom. Bless, be blessed and be a blessing.

Marvin

“Let My People Go!”

The British journalist, William Norman Ewer, wrote during the early part of the 20th century: “How Odd of God to Choose the Jew”. His comment sparked a multitude of replies, but the one that best appear to have responded to his comment was the reply from Cecil Browne: But Not so Odd as Those who Choose A Jewish God But spurn the Jews.

From a purely literary point of view, it would be obvious that Browne’s comment was the successful retort to Ewer. Nevertheless, the “anti-Jew” comment of Ewer continued through the 1900s until the end of World War II. Some believed that anti-Jewish sentiment faded to a large extent with the historical end of the Holocaust and the establishment of the nation of Israel. But, we see in the events of the present time that such antagonism only lingered in the recesses and backroads of people’s minds and memories and is now, once again, evident in places great and small throughout this circular sphere that we call Planet Earth.

To recite and enumerate the multitudes of events, chants, demonstrations and political actions that are targeted against Jews, and against the Jewish State, Israel, would appear to be superfluous. Every day brings with it another protest, another call for exclusion, punishment and for death to the Jews and to Israel, referred to be some segments of society as the “Little Satan”, as well as calls for the death of the “Big Satan”, the United States. Even many who preach sermons mix politics with Bible from their pulpits. Some sing “Go down Moses … and Let my people go.” But then, the condemnation comes that Israel’s response is not proportionate to the attack that it suffered. 

These events are particularly egregious at this time, on this day, when most Jews throughout the world celebrate the Feast of Passover – a time of remembrance of the release of the children of Israel from slavery in Egypt. The historical event, which appears in the Book of Exodus and has both physical and spiritual lessons for us all, is referred to throughout the Older and Newer Testaments. It is an event that is to be told and re-told from generation to generation. Clearly, that event has considerable significance for us today.

This post is not intended to be a Sermon from Mount Carmel, in Haifa. Nevertheless, there are some details of the story of the exodus from Egypt that cannot be disregarded on this 200th day of Israel’s war against Hamas. Jumping past God’s prophetic declarations to Abraham, we read that Moses, the one called to lead the children of Israel to freedom, told Pharaoh, the ruler of Egypt: “Let my people go”. Pharaoh refused. God sent plague after plague upon the Egyptians, affecting water, plants, livestock and daily life and eventually, bringing about the death of multitudes of Egyptians and finally, the military might of Egypt. Each plague was progressively worse than the preceding ones. Egyptians suffered and groaned and complained, but their leader refused to free the children of Israel until the leader of Egypt, the Pharaoh, that represented the power and might of his nation and who was treated as a god of the people, was affected by the personal loss of his first born son. 

Apparently, the suffering of the Egyptians that was brought about by the God of the children of Israel was not enough to move Pharaoh, as he remained adamant in his steadfast refusal to release those whom Egypt held captive and whose lives existed at the whim and fancy of Pharaoh. It’s interesting that none of the neighboring countries or tribal communities attempted to intercede when the Egyptians were suffering and none of them asked Moses or the children of Israel to provide camel caravans of deliveries of humanitarian aid to the citizens of Egypt. Of course, there was no internet at that time and no social media, nor were there institutions intended for “higher learning” that would allow for rebellion and violence under the guise of free speech, or any Middle East organization that was to oversee the camel deliveries of aid and assistance to the suffering Egyptians. It was only when the ultimate price was paid, the price of human life and the loss of the firstborn of every Egyptian household, that the cry went out throughout the land to let the Hebrews go. And they did go, with gifts from the Egyptians who were only more than happy for them to leave. Once they were freed, Pharaoh tried to capture them again and bring them back to Egypt. At that time, however, God brought an end to their efforts once and for all.

The leadership of Israel today has called for the release of the hostages being held by Hamas, by the “Palestinian” Islamic Jihad and by the riff-raff, all of whom are holding some of those taken captive on October 7th. We won’t discuss whether they were right-wing or left-wing in their ideology, because that did not enter into the thinking of the terrorists. The Hamas leadership of Gaza doesn’t care about the suffering of the people that it is supposed to care for. And they, in turn, according to most information polls, overwhelmingly supported Hamas in its actions and would even vote for Hamas, again, if elections were to be held today. 

I’ve read far too many articles of those who call for Israel’s total withdrawal from Gaza and for its unilateral ending of the war, so that all of the remaining hostages could be released. It is regrettable that most of those condemning Israel’s actions against a vicious, totally immoral and death-idolizing enemy do not live here. They live in their political ivory palaces, condemning from afar what they, themselves, would be unwilling to tolerate if they were the direct victims of terror. 

Passover is definitely a celebration of freedom and this year’s observance was made extremely difficult because some of our people are still being held hostage – a fact that seems to have been forgotten, overlooked or simply ignored by many who condemn Israel’s actions against Hamas. In exchange for the release of hundreds of prisoners, many of whom are guilty of murder, the number of hostages being offered by Hamas at this point is only 20. They want a six-week moratorium on the fighting so that they, Hamas, can try to locate the remaining hostages, as they admit they don’t know where all of the hostages are at this point. Israel still doesn’t know how many are alive or what their condition is. Nevertheless, it amazingly continues to try to negotiate with representatives of evil, so that they would “let our people go”

The Dry Bones Blog – 19 April, 2024

“Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap” (Galatians 6:7), including Hamas. Israel was called of God to be a light to the nations, not because of our “greatness”, but because we were “the fewest of all peoples” (Deuteronomy 7:7). There is a demonic movement spreading throughout the world that seeks to extinguish that light, but it will not succeed and those who curse Israel will find themselves “fighting against God” (Acts 5:39). “Thus says the LORD, Who gives the sun for light by day And the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night, Who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar; The LORD of hosts is His name: ‘If this fixed order departs from before Me,’ declares the LORD, ‘Then the offspring of Israel also will cease From being a nation before Me forever’.” (Jer. 31:35-36)

Every offer of peace that Israel has made towards its enemies has been rejected. As former Prime Minister Golda Meir once stated: “We’re the only people in the world where our neighbors openly announce they just won’t have us here. And they will not give up fighting and they will not give up war as long as we remain alive. Here.

And in a “60 Minutes Interview” that took place during September, 1973, Golda said to then Senator Joe Biden, “Don’t look so sad, Senator, we have a secret weapon in our battle against the Arabs. Senator, we have no place else to go.”

The war against Hamas can end today, Passover 5784. All they need to do is “Let Our People Go!”

Bless, be blessed and continue to be a blessing.

Marvin