Parsha: Mourning is not knowing

Parshat Devarim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Issue of July 16, 2010/ 5 Av, 5770

Like most of us who are up to date on local news, I don't think Jewish scholarship in women is something we need to mourn for on Tisha B'Av. I think the more Jewish knowledge that is out there -- the more that can be shared with those who will hear, the more that can be taught to our children -- is a good thing.

But where I feel we need to mourn on Tisha B'Av comes from a reference in chapter two of Devarim 2:16-17. "And it was after the entire generation of soldiers died from amongst the people... And then G-d spoke to me saying..."

Rashi suggests that since the word which is used to convey G-d's love is "Vayomer" (and He said) instead of "Vaydaber" (and He spoke), this means  G-d's conversations with Moshe since that time were more one-sided, that Moshe did not "converse" with G-d in the face-to-face manner he had  enjoyed previously until the first generation died out completely. This teaches us that the prophets only come to help out Israel when Israel is worthy.

Over the last few years, I have heard a number of well-known rabbis speak of what they felt was the biggest threat to Judaism today: the failure of Jewish education. As much learning as there is, as much as we personally learn, and as much as we support learning, we are still not conveying to our children why we care and why they should care.

Many schools do a fine job of educating our youth. But the reality is that every school fails miserably. When Jewish children leave a yeshiva elementary school, and certainly high school, not knowing: how to read Hebrew, how to translate basic Chumash, the overall storyline and narrative of the Torah, some of the works of the Neviim (prophets) and Ketuvim (writings), how to read or use basic (non-Artscroll) tools to work through a piece of gemara, basic Jewish history and other basic knowledge (who came first - Moses Maimonides or Moses Feinstein), why Judaism is important, why our ancestors died for the Torah, the struggle of faith, the challenges we face in our lives, then we have what to mourn.

Why do kids rebel? Why do kids reject? Why do we assume they will only come around when they get to Israel and become inspired?

Because it doesn't mean enough to us, or we don't know how to properly convey why it is meaningful. We can't express in words why we keep shabbos, why we spend more money on kosher food, or why we spend so so so much money to make sure our kids get the Jewish education that fails them. And why we don't back up what they are taught in school with similar values and education at home. And that's because we fail them.

G-d didn't talk to Moshe in a loving way for 38 years because the people were not deserving. The generation Moshe led was going to die. They spent 38 years waiting for their end to come. And during that time, G-d did not have a loving word to say to them through Moshe.

When we wonder why it sometimes feels as if G-d doesn't speak to us, it is because as good as we think we are, we are still not doing enough to transmit all we stand for to the next generation. Is it our place to live out our lives waiting to die so the next generation can go to the Promised Land? If G-d did not declare we have nothing to live for except for our time to finish up so we can pass a baton, we have no right to give up on ourselves or our children.

I encounter too many adults who go through the motions of an observant life and I wonder why they bother. They don't seem to care about davening, learning, lashon hara, laws against gambling, lewd behavior, and modesty in behavior and dress. Until we are successful at cleaning up our own house and setting goals for ourselves that correspond to the lifestyle we seem to want to model for our children (as indicated by the places we send them to be educated), the question over what new things we mourn for on Tisha B'Av remains an open book.

Every man and every woman needs to first come to grips with the statement of Ben Zoma in the beginning of the fourth chapter of Avot. "Who is rich? The one who is happy with one's portion." I will never be a kohen or a levi. I will never be a king. I will never be a mother. I will never know what it means to be loved by a husband. A woman will have a different list of what she will never be.

I am content with my lot and try to make the most of the things I can be and the opportunities I have to reach out to other people. And heaven knows, I have a long way to go in becoming the best I can be.

When we can teach ourselves and our children that our lives are meant to be more theocentric than egocentric; when we inspire and find people to inspire us, perhaps G-d will speak to us again.

Until then, the mourning comes.