The Cosmic Catastrophes of Tisha B’Av
By HOWARD SCHWARTZ
There are three cosmic catastrophes in Jewish tradition—the
Shattering of the Vessels, which, according to the Ari (Rabbi Isaac Luria),
took place before the creation of the world; the eating of the forbidden fruit
by Adam and Eve and the resulting expulsion from Eden; and the destruction of
the Temple in Jerusalem. From the perspective of Jewish mythology, each of
these catastrophes is equally disastrous. The first, for which humans bear no
blame, resulted in a flawed world in which evil could flourish. The second
deprived us of the perfection of Eden. And the third, the destruction of the
Temple, sent the people of Israel into a physical and spiritual exile that will
not come to an end until the arrival of the Messiah restores the world to its
pre-fallen condition.
Note that I have described the destruction of the Temple, and not of the
Temples, although Tisha B’Av marks the destruction of both Temples, said to
have been torn down on the same date, the ninth day of the month of Av. That is
because, from a mythological standpoint, the destruction of the two Temples
blurs into one. In rabbinic, kabbalistic, and Hasidic literature the Temple
becomes an archetype that contains both Temples, and its destruction
incorporates the Shattering of the Vessels as well as the Fall of Adam and Eve.
On Tisha B’Av, Jews don’t just mourn ancient tragedies; they also think about
the present. The dangerous forces that provoked disaster still exist, and are
at their most prevalent on this day. This way of reliving the past is
characteristic of the Jewish approach to the holy days. The Haggadah says, “We were
slaves unto Pharaoh in Egypt,” not “They,” and on Shavuot we don’t merely
commemorate the Giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, we receive the Torah anew.
So, on Tisha B’Av, the anniversary of the day on which the Temples were
destroyed and other disasters occurred, we fear that such disasters might be
repeated in our time. Some regard these fears as mere superstition, while for
others the fear of the wrath of heaven on this day is a visceral fact. In any
case, this sense of potential catastrophe was sufficient to convince the
Israeli government to delay the implementation of the disengagement from Gaza
until after Tisha B’Av.
But it’s not just the people of Israel who mourn the destruction of the Temple.
Even God feels our pain:
When the Temple was destroyed and Israel banished, God wept bitterly day and
night, saying, “Woe is Me! What have I done? I caused My Shekhinah to
dwell on earth for the sake of Israel, but now that they have sinned, I have
returned to My former habitation. As below, so above—in both there is weeping
over what has come to pass. You weep in the night, but I weep day and night,
for My presence knows no sleep.”
Then God hung sackcloth over the entrance of His house, rent his purple garment
and went barefoot. So too did God extinguish the lamps, withdrawing the light
of the sun and the moon and the stars. And God sat silently and lamented over
the Temple. He alone knew of the precious spiritual treasures hidden there. (Lamentations
Rabbah, Proem 24)
This
myth is interesting in that it suggests that God follows Jewish patterns of
grief. Paradoxically, however, God also gave permission for the enemies of
Israel to destroy the Temple, since it is assumed that such a disaster could
not take place without God’s acquiescence.
Further, in the Zohar, the central text of Kabbalah, God’s Bride, the Shekhinah,
is so furious that God has permitted the Temple, her home in this world, to be
destroyed, that she abandons God and goes into exile with her children, the
Children of Israel:
When the Temple was destroyed, the Shekhinah came and went up to all
those places where she used to dwell, and she would weep for her home and for
Israel, who had gone into exile, and for all the righteous and the pious ones
who had perished.
At that time the Holy One, blessed be He, questioned the Shekhinah, and
said to her, “What ails you?” And She replied, weeping, “My children are in
exile, and the Sanctuary has been burnt, so why should I remain here?” Now the
Temple is destroyed and the Shekhinah is with Israel in exile and there
is no joy to be found, above or below. (Zohar 1:202b-203a)
All three mythic catastrophes—that of the myth of the Ari, the fall of Adam and
Eve, and the destruction of the Temple—function in a similar fashion. Each
triggers a rupture in God’s plans that ultimately throw existence out of
balance. The pattern in all three cases is that of a cosmic collapse, which can
only be healed by a cosmic restoration. The Ari described this restoration as
the Gathering of the Sparks, in which the sparks from the sacred vessels that
had shattered were scattered all over the world—but especially over the Holy
Land—and it was the particular destiny of the people of Israel to gather these
scattered sparks. Indeed, this is the basis of the key concept of Tikkun
Olam, repair of the world. According to the Ari, when enough of these
fallen sparks have been gathered, the broken vessels will become whole again,
and the world will be restored to its unfallen state, reflecting God’s original
vision. This result is identical to the expected outcome of the coming of the Messiah.
In order for the Messiah to prove that he is indeed the long-awaited one, he
must accomplish three incredibly difficult tasks: the ingathering of the
exiles, thus bringing all the Jews in the world back to the Holy Land; the
raising of the righteous dead; and the restoration of the Temple in Jerusalem. So
just as the destruction of the Temple signifies a cosmic catastrophe, the
rebuilding of the Temple represents the necessary step that must be taken to
restore that which has been broken.
Until the Messiah arrives to accomplish these great tasks, Tisha B’Av is a day
of great mourning. It is a day that has taken on a kind of epic quality, that
of a religious Friday the 13th. One must be very careful on Tisha
B’Av, or the finest clothes will turn to rags. On earth, as well as in heaven,
the danger of all those cosmic catastrophes still lurks. Just as the Jewish
people plead with God on Yom Kippur to spare their lives, on Tisha B’Av they
plead with heaven to spare the Jewish people and to restore them to their
rightful place in God’s vision of the world.