Every year when Tisha B'Av came around, I would have a certain dilemma. This is supposed to be a day on which we mourn the destruction of our Temple. It is a day when we do not eat, drink or wear leather shoes and follow varied and unique mourning customs.
Every year I would arrive at the synagogue to hear the Book of Lamentations, which bemoans the destruction of Jerusalem. However, every year I would end up daydreaming about totally unrelated things. As the cantor would be reading about the Temple, I would completely disconnect, planning my summer vacation, celebrating the end of my exams, or just hoping that the fast will go well this year.
It's difficult to be truly mournful over something that took place 2000 years ago – something that we've never seen and don't really feel lacking in our daily life. But all that was about to change.
The Turning Point
As part of my army service in the Israeli army I was placed, to my delight, in a teachers' unit. I served at the Bat Hatzor caravan site located near Gedera. The site held 700 caravans, which housed thousands of new Ethiopian immigrants. In the mornings I taught immigrants at the Yad Shabtai School in Ashdod. In the afternoon and evening hours I served as a counselor on the site.
This was shortly after Operation Solomon in 1993, during which roughly 14,500 Jews form Ethiopia were airlifted to Israel. It was a special and moving operation, and the entire Israeli population was surprised to see that suddenly there were Jews walking around here who had, in fact, been severed from our nation many generations ago.
They observed Shabbat, were familiar with most of the holidays and kept Jewish tradition in a devout and traditional manner. But it was clear that they didn't know everything; the separation they had undergone throughout all those years had influenced their system of traditions.
They had never heard of Independence Day or Yom Yerushalayim, or even about Purim or Chanukah – none of the latter historical events that took place subsequent to their break-off from the Jewish nation.
I realized that unless I concentrate on filling these gaps of knowledge, their adjustment in Israel would never be complete. I decided to allot a considerable amount of time each day to teach them about Judaism.
Passover and Ascending to the Temple
The month of Nissan had arrived and I started teaching about the holiday of Passover. My class consisted of 20 students, grades 3-6. (They were placed according to their reading level rather than chronological age.) These children had come to Israel only a few months beforehand and more than anything else, they loved to hear stories, mainly because they didn't have to read or write in Hebrew which was still quite a difficult task for some of them.
My plan was to first connect Passover to the other holidays by very briefly reviewing the three major festivals during the year when the Jewish nation would ascend to Jerusalem.
"Today is the first day of Nissan and Passover is celebrated on this month," I began. "Passover is one of the three festivals when the entire Jewish people used to go to Jerusalem to the Temple."
"Teacher, have you ever been to the Temple?"
At this point, a student jumped up, cutting me off in mid-sentence. "Teacher, have you ever been to the Temple?"
I smiled at him, realizing that he was somewhat confused. "No, of course not. That was a very long time ago!"
My student was insistent, and a few more pairs of eyes joined him. "Fine, it was a long time ago. But were you there? Were you at the Temple a long time ago?"
I smiled again, this time slightly confused myself. "Doesn't he understand? Perhaps my Hebrew is too difficult for him, " I thought.
"No, of course not. That was a very long time ago!"
Now the rest of the students joined him in an uproar. "You've never been there?" "Teacher, what's it like being in the Temple?" "What does the Temple look like?"
"Quiet!" I tried calming everyone down. "Listen everyone – there is no Temple! There used to be a Temple many years ago but today we don't have a Temple. It was destroyed, burned down. I have never been to it, my father's never been to it, and my grandfather has never been to it! We haven't had a Temple for 2000 years!"
I said these words over and over, having a very hard time believing that this was so strange for them to hear. What's the big deal? This is the reality with which we've all grown up. Why are they so bothered by it?
The tumult in the class was steadily increasing. They began talking amongst themselves in Amaric, arguing, translating, explaining, shouting, as I lost total control over the class. When the bell rang, they collected their things and ran home. I left the school exhausted and utterly confused.
Next Day's Surprise
The next morning I was hardly bothered by the previous day's events. In fact, I had nearly forgotten all about the incident. That day I had planed to just teach math, geometry and other secular subjects.
I got off the bus and leisurely made my way toward the school. As I neared the gate the guard approached me, seeming a bit alarmed. "Tell me," he said, "do you have any idea what's going on here today?"
I tried recalling a special activity that was supposed to be going on, or some ceremony that I had forgotten about, but nothing exceptional came to mind.
"Why do you ask?" I asked him. "What happened?"
He didn't answer. He only pointed towards the entrance to the school.
I raised my head and saw a sizeable gathering of Ethiopian adult immigrants – apparently, my students' parents. What are they doing here? And what are they yelling about?
I went over to them, attempting to understand what was the matter from the little Amaric that I knew.
As I came closer, everyone quieted down. One of the adults who's Hebrew was on a higher level, asked me, "Are you our children's teacher?"
"Yes," I answered. "What is the matter, sir?"
"Our children came home yesterday and told us that their teacher taught them that the Temple in Jerusalem no longer exists. Who would tell them such a thing?" He looked at me in anger.
Am I sure that the Temple was destroyed? Of course I'm sure!
"I told them that. We were discussing the Temple and I felt that they were a bit confused. So I explained to them that the Temple had been burned down thousands of years ago and that today, we no longer have a Temple. That's all. What's all the fuss about?"
He was incredulous. "What? What are you talking about?"
I was more confused than ever. "I don't understand. What are you all so angry about? I simply reminded them of the fact that the Temple was destroyed and that it no longer exists today."
Another uproar – this one even louder than before.
The representative quieted the others down, and again turned to me. "Are you sure?"
"Am I sure that the Temple was destroyed? Of course I'm sure!" I couldn't hide my smile. What a strange scene.
The man turned to his friends and in a dramatic tone translated what I had told him. At this point, things seemed to be finally sinking in.
Now, however, a different scene commenced: one woman fell to the ground, a second broke down in tears. A man standing by them just stared at me in disbelief. A group of men began quietly talking amongst themselves, very fast, in confusion and disbelief. The children stood on the side, looking on in great puzzlement. Another woman suddenly broke into a heart-rending cry. Her husband came over to her to hug her.
I stood there in utter shock.
I felt as if I had just brought them the worst news possible. It was as if I had just told them about the death of a loved one. I stood there across from a group of Jews who were genuinely mourning the destruction of the Temple.
Tisha B'Av
A few months later it was Tisha B'Av. I had already been discharged from the army, on my way to college, and my military service seemed as if it had been such a very long time ago.
As I did every year, I went to synagogue. Everyone was already seated on the floor (as is customary for mourners), and I was waiting to hear the Book of Lamentations. I had expected, as in previous years, for this to be a time for some daydreaming and hoped I wouldn't get too hungry.
The megillah reading began, and I started reading the first two verses.
"Alas, she sits in solitude…like a widow…She weeps bitterly in the night and her tear is on her cheek. She has no comforter from all her paramours; all her friends have betrayed her, they have become her enemies."
Suddenly that first day of Nissan began replaying in my mind. The angry looks of those children. The parents' screams. The mothers' crying. The men's pitiful silence. The shock they were overcome with as they received the terrible news as if I had just told them about the death of a loved one.
At that moment, I understood.
I understood that this was exactly how we are supposed to mourn the Temple on Tisha B'Av. We are supposed to cry over the loss of the unity and peace throughout the entire world. We are supposed to lament the disappearance of the Divine Presence and holiness from our lives in Israel. We are supposed to be pained by the destruction of our spiritual center, which served to unify the entire Jewish nation.
We're supposed to feel as if something very precious has been taken away from us forever. We are meant to cry, to be shocked and angry, to break down. We are supposed to mourn over the destruction of the Temple, to cry over a magnificent era that has been uprooted from the face of the earth. The incredible closeness that we had with God – that feeling that He is truly within us – has evaporated and disappeared into thin air.
Now when Tisha B'Av rolls around, I go back to that incident with my students and their parents and try to reconnect to the meaningful lesson that they taught me – what it truly means to mourn for the loss of our holy Temple.
photo by Jody Sugar
(38) Uri Hirsch, July 30, 2020 5:58 AM
Real reason
I think that the real reason the students were so taken aback by the teacher's remarks about the Temple was that they were a people that left Israel so long ago that they hadn't realized that the Temple had been destroyed. They may have thought that it still existed. The news that it wasn't there anymore may have been the reason why they were so astonished.
(37) Sheila Cohen, August 1, 2017 6:22 PM
Can't wait to read the next story by Judy Waldman!!!!
Toby Katz, August 2, 2017 4:31 PM
Judy Waldman?
"Can't wait to read the next story by Judy Waldman!!!!"
Judy Waldman? Is that another name for Keren Gottlieb, who wrote this article? Or is that a different writer who writes similar articles?
(36) dina sullivan, July 26, 2015 12:42 AM
Inspirational
Beautifully written, honest, heartfelt, inspirational, Makes one think of how G-d lives in the people.
(35) Lori, The Netherlands, August 4, 2014 6:05 PM
I felt this story in my heart
Thank you sharing this heart-wrenching story. My observance of Tisha B'Av will never ever be the same.
(34) Debbie Litwack, July 16, 2013 1:43 PM
WOW! Very moving.
Genuine tears and feeling.
My newest grand-nephew was born today in Isarael--Tisha B'Av! Maybe he'll be Mashiach and we can celebrate!
Devorah Rena, July 16, 2013 3:53 PM
Kain ya he ratzon! May your words be true...
May that dear child born today, on the saddest day of our year, indeed be the Moshiach! Thank you for this post.
(33) Anonymous, December 25, 2012 8:53 AM
A Beautiful Story
This was one of the most beautiful stories I have ever read. If there was any doubts of the Judaism of the Falashas this story should dispell all of them. The Falashas are living proof that Judaism has NO racism in it and that these who may have been considered by some to be the least of us are the best of us. This politically conservative American Jew is proud to remember that the rescue of the Falashas is the only event in history in which black people were taken from African slavery to freedom!
(32) cvmay, December 25, 2012 8:52 AM
i envy those who live in israel and the opportunities that they have to teach others and to be inspired by them in turn. Next year in Jerusalem!
(31) Anonymous, August 8, 2011 10:17 PM
I have a similar story
This summer I was at a seminar for my sherut leumi (national service). One night a female singer, Odelia Berlin came to give us an evening of entertainment, but because this was during the Three Weeks we could not sing joyful songs and dance, so we sang quiet, sad songs of Yerushalaim. The first song we sang was 'al neharot bavel' from tehillim קל"ז to the tune sung by Meidad Tasa. This song describes the pain of the Jews, particularly the Leviim who are told to sing 'songs of Zion' when the are exiled to Babylon. Then they say the famousאם אשכחך ירושלים תשכך ימיני Well, the girls in the seminar were singing in enthusiasm (but not thinking much about the meaning of the words. suddenly, my friend elbowed me and whispered 'look'! she was pointing to a group of Ethiopian girls sitting across from us. It took me a minute to understand what it was I was witnessing: One girl had tears streaming down her face... another was just brushing her tears away... I was struck with a realization: These girls, who are my age, are crying because the Temple was destroyed! 2,000 years after Jerusalem was destroyed these girls are actually crying. They feel the pain. Later, my friend and I approached this girl and told her how moved we were when we saw her crying, we asked what made her cry what did she think of when she heard this song? She made it sound so simple: this song is sad, it tells of Yerushalaim that was destroyed, am Israel went to exile, it is very sad- so I cry. We all know in our minds that the destruction of the Temple and exile was a huge tragedy. Yet how many of us actually FEEL the tragedy in our hearts? How many of us can burst into tears? I always thought that if I would see someone really crying over the Churban it would be a great Rabbi, probably old, with long white beard and wisdom. Turns out she was a simple, girl my age, an olah from Ethiopia. May we all merit to really cry over Yerushalaim this year so that we can merit to see her being rebuilt next year
(30) Mel, July 20, 2010 7:30 AM
... this made me cry too.
(29) Anonymous, July 15, 2010 2:18 AM
wow......
thank you.
(28) Anonymous, July 30, 2009 8:31 AM
Wow, a truly remarkable experience. Thank you for sharing your inspiration.
(27) Jeanette, July 29, 2009 7:18 PM
very good article
this article has helped me to mourn the loss of our temple,the way that the young ethiopian students couldn't believe it has made it more of a reality to me and brought tears to my eyes and will help me go thru this fast day with significantly more meaning. thank you
(26) yehudit levy, July 20, 2009 8:17 PM
what a chesed
What a chesed Hashem did for you, in allowing you to witness pure and genuine mourning for the temple as if it had just happened: something none of us are privileged to see or perhaps even really feel today. And thank you for the chesed you did for your readers in sharing your experience. You have given us something to grasp during our own "mourning".... I will be telling your story for many years to come...
(25) mark shane, July 20, 2009 6:21 AM
tears
A beautiful piece of truth. before the explanation had been given in this article, I found myself shedding tears.... Very heavy. I got it..and when is the turn-around? This is the beginning.!
(24) Yael Hershberg, July 19, 2009 7:16 PM
Making the loss of the Mikdosh real
Beautiful, thank you so much.
(23) Goldie Klein, July 19, 2009 3:20 PM
Thank you for your insighful and touching words. I have often wondered how we could feel with our hearts the Churban. How to make it a part of our lives..... Your article helped. Thank you. G. Klein
(22) Malka, July 19, 2009 2:15 PM
so moving
I volunteered at the Bat Hatzor mercaz klita at roughly the same time, so I can so easily visualize what you describe. Thank you for this very moving article.
(21) Sharon, August 4, 2008 4:16 AM
new understanding
The reason many of us don't feel the intense pain of not having the beit hamikdash and everything that went along with it is that we never had other expectations. The Ethiopian Jews fully expected to visit the temple, so the news that it is no longer created a deep sense of loss. A child orphaned from his father before birth will not feel the pain of loss the same way a child who knew his father, but later lost him. Both have no father, but the feeling of loss and mourning belong mainly to the child who remembers his dad.
For this reason we need to really focus on what we have lost. We need to contemplate what the temple meant, our once close relationship with Hashem and unity among the nation. Only then can we trully mourn and inspire ourselves to make the necessary changes to bring the age of mashiach.
(20) Shira Twersky-Cassel, July 29, 2008 3:19 AM
This captures the true spirit of the Beta Yisrael
The Beta Yisrael have been brought home to Am Yisrael, bringing their unique gifts of strength of conviction and deep faith. Their tradition links their return to the Messianic times. Some have been taken off track by the inner upheaval in modern day Israel and misdirected political policies but I am certain that the Beta Yisrael internal strengths which maintained them for 1000 years will contribute to our eventual return to authentic, renewed Judaism in Eretz Yisrael.
Kudos to the author and thank you.
(19) Daniela, July 21, 2008 11:02 AM
Ethiopian Jews
This article made me cry, beautifully written. I cry still when I think of how these same people must have felt when they were told probably only a short time after this that their Jewishness was in question. It's a very complicated issue, and this article makes the issue all that much more heart wrenching.
(18) Anonymous, July 24, 2007 8:44 AM
moved me to tears
Your article moved me to tears and helped make Tisha b' Av more meaningful, thank you!
(17) Anonymous, August 2, 2006 12:00 AM
I am crying now
Thank you for giving me a way to understand, at least somewhat, how I should be feeling too. Aws I write this (erev Tisha B'Av) the tears are coming out of my eyes. May we celebrate tomorrow, with Mashiach's arrival and the rebuilding of the Temple.thank you again.
(16) Aliza, August 14, 2005 12:00 AM
I was very touched by this speech and many others but i just cant cry and mourn properly no matter how much i want to. What should I do?
(15) Tsivya Weisgrau, July 21, 2004 12:00 AM
I cried.
I cried.
(14) Dina Neuman, July 6, 2004 12:00 AM
I'm in tears
Wow. That story reduced me to tears and gave me a fresh perspective on the Beit Hamikdash's loss as well. Thank you.
(13) Robin Starkman-Garbe, August 8, 2003 12:00 AM
I understand now
I did not really see myself, now I cry and always will. Thank you!
(12) Anonymous, August 7, 2003 12:00 AM
This is a great article - reading it on Tisha B'av really helped me get in touch with how one is supposed to relate to the tragedy that happened so long ago. thank you.
(11) Rivka Likhovetski, August 6, 2003 12:00 AM
Amazing Article
This article was a great way to teach ppl how we should act on the 9th of Av through a real life story.
Thank you! :)
(10) John K. (Yochanon), August 5, 2003 12:00 AM
Your story helped me understand
Is it really true, how you describe it? I guess I shouldn't doubt it. How distant we are from so many things. Your story helped me understand not only the loss of the Temple, but what the Temple was as it existed. Thank you.
(9) suzanne strohmeyer, August 4, 2003 12:00 AM
If I could change who I am I'd choose to be a Jew
Your stories touch my heart and your religion touches my soul and makes me sing.
(8) Batya Y., August 4, 2003 12:00 AM
One has to view the destruction of the Temple as if it is happening in our time.
This is such a great story, sometimes we can learn the greatest lessons from the most unexpected places and the most unexpected people...
(7) tziporah mandel, August 4, 2003 12:00 AM
WOW!
Amazing story! You saw how people truly felt the terrible loss of the Bais Hamikdash, and you gained an emotional understanding of this true tragedy. Thank you so much for sharing this story!
(6) Dina, August 3, 2003 12:00 AM
What a moving story - if only we could all feel that way about the destruction of the Temple. This reminds me of a story told by a rabbi in pre-war Europe, who arrived in the town of Nitra, Slovakia (where my grandmother was from) during the Nine Days. It was the middle of the day, but the Jewish section was deserted. All the shops were shuttered and there was not a soul to be seen on the streets. The rabbi wondered if he had somehow made a mistake and arrived in town on Shabbos. He was drawn to the synagogue and upon entering saw an amazing sight. The entire community was in shul, seated on the floor and sobbing their hearts out - as if, said the rabbi, they had just that moment received the telegram telling of the destruction of the Temple. I had thought that such Jews and such emotions had been destroyed in the Holocaust. Now I see they still exist.
(5) Tengo Kilumanga, August 3, 2003 12:00 AM
Tisha B'Av-How is it possible to mourn something that happened 2000 years ago?
This is a very beautiful, compassionate and touching story. A genuine feeling of loss for an event that took place thousands of years ago
(4) Sid Laytin, August 3, 2003 12:00 AM
You helped me connect with the pain
Thanks for bringing the loss of the temple to life for me. Your story brought tears to my eyes.
(3) Jonathan, August 3, 2003 12:00 AM
I had tears rolling down my cheeks reading this article. You gave me the gift of seeing the event through new eyes. Never before was I able to experience the loss we have suffered in such an immediate and personal way.
Thank you and may you have hatzlacha raba.
(2) Anonymous, August 3, 2003 12:00 AM
Temple Tears
Reading this has brought me closer to G-d, and the lost of our beloved Temple. To think of the Falasha Jews, having that hope of a Temple while living in Ethiopia, and then making Aliyah and later learning that the stories they heard and the moments they dreamed of came to a halt 2000 years ago, has brought many tears to my eyes. This year's Tisha B'Av will be celebrated for me the right way, to mourn not only for our Temple. But to also strengthen the hope of our people. That though the Temple is absent from us physically, we each carry apart of it in our spirits through the Torah.
Blessed be.
(1) Shimon Zimmerman, August 3, 2003 12:00 AM
I understand Tiisha b"aav more now.
Now I understand the purpose of mourning our beloved temple.