A note about the 9 Days

Rosh Chodesh Av, which we marked yesterday, has a bit of a strange valence.

On the one hand, every Rosh Chodesh (beginning of the month) is a miniature holiday - a time of joy, excitement, and anticipation. Yet on the other hand, the month of Av, especially the period we are now entering - the nine days from Rosh Chodesh Av to Tisha B’Av - is perhaps the saddest time on the Jewish calendar.

As I reflect on the historic calamities that befell the Jewish people within these dates, I can’t help but think of the crises we currently face on multiple fronts. It seems like we lurch week by week from one calamity or near-miss to another. Political violence, social upheaval, military conflicts threatening to spiral out of control, and the day-to-day challenges of living proudly and safely as a Jew - any one of these would be enough to get me in the “proper” frame of mind this Av.

So what is the right approach to a time like the month Av, then? Yes, we are in a period of mourning in the heart and psyche of the Jewish people. But mourning is not completely devoid of joy, or at least it doesn’t have to be.

The Munkacser Rebbe (Rabbi Chaim Elazar Spira, 1868-1937) argued that, though the Mishnah in Ta’anit (4:6) states: Mishenichnas Av, Mema’atin Be’simcha, i.e. “When the month of Av arrives, we decrease in joy” - it should be read, “we decrease…(but) in joy.”

Though it is important and appropriate to mourn, he taught, we should do so joyously, knowing that such moments are also necessary corridors through which we pass in order to reach something better on the other side.

In our modern world, we grasp at anything that might inoculate or distract us from sadness. We often conflate the kind of emotional challenge that the Nine Days and Tisha B’Av present to us with an unhealthy, undesirable sadness that we would prefer to avoid altogether. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (1772-1810) captures this crucial distinction in Likutey Etzot, a compilation of his spiritual and practical wisdom:

A broken heart is a very precious thing. And know that a “broken heart” and sadness (atzvut) are not the same at all. Sadness is expressed in anger and irritability, whereas broken-heartedness is like a child cleansing himself before their parent [or] a child crying and complaining that they have been set far from their parent. The latter type is dearly beloved by God. It would be best for man to experience such a “broken heart” all day long. But, because most people would easily be led from a broken heart to sadness, which is exceedingly injurious, as I have explained many times, one ought to set aside some period during the day to pray with a “broken heart,” restricting his broken-heartedness to that period alone while the rest of day is spent in joy.

I hope we merit to see this season of Av not as an obstacle to overcome or outlast, but rather as an opportunity to pray with a broken heart - to express longing, rather than despair - and that we find the strength and bravery to do so.