Exile and Return

Half way through July the Jewish calendar shifts into the month of Av. Many are familiar with the somber Ninth of Av, the day commemorating the destruction of both Temples in Jerusalem, the first built by Solomon and destroyed by the Babylonians as a preamble to the exile (586 BCE); the second rebuilt by the returnees of that exile and destroyed by the Romans (70 CE). Because Reform Jews do not as a group mourn the loss of the sacrificial system practiced in those temples, we often turn our backs on the commemoration of the disasters ascribed to Tisha b’Av.

There are lessons for us, however, in the midrashic context of these historic events. The rabbis of the Talmud conclude that the first Temple was destroyed because of the immorality of the people. Although living in the Promised Land, our ancestors were not careful of their relationships with God and with one another. Abuse of the weak, sexual immorality, savage murders and idolatry stained their moral fiber. They had not hearkened to the voices of the prophets but had continued in their depravity. Although we moderns often reject the idea of divine retribution, our ancestors did not. The behavior of those who returned from exile was at least somewhat more careful than those who had been led away. That exile lasted only about 70 years.

The underlying cause of the destruction of the second Temple is identified by the Talmud (Yoma 9b) as sinat chinam, baseless hatred. Even though the crimes that brought down the first Temple (immorality, murder, idolatry) are our three cardinal sins, the exile experienced by those who lost the second Temple has lasted many centuries. (Some would say that the exile ended with the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948; some still await a return that seems more divinely sanctioned.)

Our commentators are quick to point out that there are two types of “hatred” (we might say “aversion” or “dislike”), that which has an outside cause and that which does not. If someone has harmed you and has shown no sense of remorse, it is understandable that you continue to dislike the person. (Of course, it is probably more sensible in most cases to get over the irritation. Some even say that harboring a grudge is a sort of idolatry, with the image of the person you dislike taking over the mental space that ought to be reserved for God. ) But there are times that we catch ourselves pre-judging others and disliking them for no ostensible reason. This dislike expresses itself—no: we choose to express it—in the way we speak about the other or act toward him or her. Alas, we often shrug our shoulders and excuse these feelings and behaviors as “normal.”

The values that we live by and the practices that Jews count as important include taking stock of our “normal” behavior and holding that behavior up for scrutiny. Judaism encourages us to live on a higher than merely “normal” plane. Sinat chinam may not be manifest in open hostility, but it eats away at us. If we do not actively examine the feelings that produce antipathy, we allow ourselves to slip into a sourness of soul that is unhealthy for ourselves and those around us. Ultimately, we find ourselves in exile from our better self. While it may be only July, the High Holy Days loom before us. Days of introspection are ahead. May we banish unseemly prejudices and instead practice the art of seeing in all the image of God.

Rabbi Peg Kershenbaum