Crossing the Bridge

More significantly, I struggle to establish and sustain a mindset that’s appropriate for this period of the year. Not all meaningful points in the calendar present me with this challenge. The spiritual work of the Yamim Noraim is blessedly transparent: focus on regret for past misdeeds, request forgiveness, and construct a plan for improving in the coming year.

Not so with Tishah B’Av. As the fast day looms closer, its avodah and requisite spiritual input seem increasingly vague. I recognize that we mourn our Beis Hamikdash and should reflect on Klal Yisrael’s national losses. I acknowledge that we must think of all this galus has wrought and appreciate the transformative power of geulah. But what is it that I’m actually meant to do? Is my avodah to eke out a few sincere tears?

Rav Moshe Schwab draws a similar contrast between the clarity of our spiritual directives during the Yamim Noraim and the ambiguity of our spiritual roles on Tishah B’Av. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are all about doing. We crown Hashem our King, hear the shofar blasts, summon regret for our aveiros, and say Vidui. Tishah B’Av, however, is characterized by aveilus, profound mourning. And aveilus is not about doing; rather, it is a state of being.

During aveilus for a beloved relative, an avel is so consumed by loss that he is halachically proscribed from activities that may distract from mourning. More than anything else, the period of mourning is articulated by what he’s not doing: No bathing, no shoes, no sitting on regular chairs, no laundered clothing. Because aveilus is not about doing; rather, it’s a painful state of being. Even the phrases we employ to describe mourning convey this idea: A person doesn’t do aveilus, he’s in aveilus.