The Ninth of Av

[dorchadas]

Past sunset was the end of the Tisha B'Av, so now I'm back to the internet.

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.
-Maggie Smith, Good Bones

That was a poem that we read last night, when I went to Mishkan's Erev Tisha B'Av event. We ate and chatted a bit before sundown, since it was still Shabbat--the ninth of Av was actually Saturday, but Shabbat postponed the holiday one day--and then prayed Ma'ariv and lit the candle for havdalah. Only the candle, so as not to break the fast by drinking wine or take joy from smelling the spices. And then, we went into a separate room and listened to Eicha being read, by candlelight, with candles we had lit from the havdalah candle.

There were tissues around, and I saw a few people crying, but I was not one of them. Even though this year I've taken the fast further than I have in the past few years.

I wrote in my Tisha B'Av post from two years ago about a modern rabbinic opinion I found that suggested fasting from sunset until noon, to mourn the destruction of the Temple (both times), the scattering of the Diaspora, and all the other tragedies that have befallen us through the ages, and then breaking the fast at noon to celebrate the diversity that the Diaspora brought to the Children of Israel and how Jewish life flourished even in the midst of tragedy. And that's what I've done in years past. But I feel like since the last Tisha B'Av, there's been so much tragedy both for me and for the world that I couldn't do that with a clear conscience, so I fasted for the whole time.

Some people from Mishkan and other organizations went down to an immigrant detention center in Kankakee to hold a vigil, joined by organizations across the US. I wonder now if I should have joined them instead of sitting at home all day, and if it would have been more meaningful. But, I can't change even the recent past.

If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
my highest joy.
-Psalm 137:5-6

I hope you all had a good weekend!

Comments

[tcpip]

Damn that Maggie Smith piece is real good.

[dorchadas]

There were other songs and poems I wanted to include in this post when I heard them at the service, but that poem drove them all out of my head.