Dear Lab/Shul,
Today my people fast. Today my people feast. Today, I choose: All people are my people, no matter what or why we celebrate or cry. Today we name the broken and begin to build.
Today billions of people on the planet have one sacred mountain on their minds. For some, climbing that mountain is a reality, a privilege, for many of us, it is the gift of myth. Already today, violent clashes on the mountain, already blood. For these, with these, I cry.
For Jews, today is the saddest day of the year, the fast day of the Ninth of Av, recalling exile, loss of lives, and accumulating collective tragedies for over 3,000 years. The temples that stood on the Temple Mount were destroyed on this day, hundreds of years apart. We still grieve and remember. Not the building – the humiliation, the loss of home and its embodied sense of the Divine.
The Muslim community celebrates Eid al Adha today, honoring the sacrifice of Abraham, our shared ancestral patriarch, and his devotion to the source of life and loyalty. He built his altar on that same sacred mountain long before any temples or mosques.
I say “my people” not because I equally belong to both communities but because I am a member of the human tribe. Despite our differences – nuances between the myths we tell, whether we fast or feast today – we are one people. The loss we mourn today, as well as the devotion we celebrate, is upon us all to carry and preserve.
What would Abraham say about his children fighting on this day instead of feeding each other with kindness?
My Muslim friends worldwide devote time to charity today, to prayer and bonding with family and community. My Jewish community remembers the pain of so much suffering and begins our journey toward the new year, toward repairing all that we can within and beyond.
This is a day to deepen our commitment to each other, not just to the tribal and triumphalist truths we have inherited. A day to go beyond the borders of our familiar faith, our traumas, and our mistrust. A day to fast and to feast – together.
On this day according to Jewish tradition, the Messiah is born. Let’s make it the day of the birth of Messianic consciousness – all the dreams we’ve ever very dreamed, all the hopes we’ve ever hoped. On this day, some say, we begin the Days of Awe – leading up to the Day of honest atonement from this day of woe.
A few weeks ago I was in Israel and met up with my friend Dvir Cohen Eraki – a talented Yemenite-Israeli musician, cantor, teacher. He will join us at Lab/Shul this season of awe to open the gates of the heart. Check out this short vid we shot in preparation for today, for this day that calls on us to open up the gates of repair.
On this day many are weeping, but there is a legend I love about about a reason to laugh in the face of destruction before this day is done.
After the Jerusalem Temple was burnt down by the Romans, a group of sages walk by and see the ruins of what was once their house of worship, their site of Sacred Presence. Now wild beasts roam the ruins, foxes run where only priests were allowed. The sages weep. But one of them, Rabbi Akiva, starts laughing. “Why?” they ask, confused and angry.
There was a prophet who foretold this loss, Akiva reminds them. But there was also a prophet who foretold the healing: children playing in the rebuilt city, elders sitting here in dignity and joy. You can cry for the present, but I laugh for the future. I choose to be with both, feeding my pain with hope.
On this day many of my people are protesting all the evil ways in which we treat each other as enemies instead of as friends in need of compassion. ICE protests, occupation rallies, and gatherings in which we wisely use our loss to care and to heal. We’ll be gathering today with friends from around the city for the #JewsAgainstIce Tisha B’Av Action. This is the day to rally and to rise.
Today, I fast, and today I will feast. I will join my people as we cry and as we gather, rising above the din of the division to honor our yesterdays and be the prophets of tomorrow. Let’s bring messianic meaning now.
Take a moment today to honor something in your life that’s broken. Take some time to hug it, love it, laugh with it – you – until you cry. Those tears are sacred. Feed them to the one you love.
Today, from the rubble, together, we rise.
– Rabbi Amichai Lau-Lavie
