What Are We Supposed To Be Doing on Tisha B'Av?

We all know the things we can’t do on Tisha B’Av. But just not doing stuff can’t be the whole story. The real point, I suppose, is the mourning. But how does that happen?

The poskim (אורח חיים תקנ”ד) point to a custom to avoid labor (מלאכה) and business (בפרקמטיה). That, no doubt, is to keep us from being distracted from the mourning. We’re also expected to refrain from learning most Torah sources as it’s assumed those will give us joy.

The tefilos and kinnos are certainly there to help us focus on this specific flavor of mourning. But tefilos don’t take that much time, and the kinnos - even when properly understood - are relatively modern: it’s unlikely that any of them is older than 1,000 years, and it’s only very recently that we began reciting the “whole book” regardless of our individual family traditions. So how did our ancestors from previous centuries actually fill the day?

Over the past 40 years or so, we’ve found appropriate, and often genuinely valuable, time fillers. In decades past, effective and entertaining darshonim - like R’ Pesach Krohn - would speak to camp bleachers full of boys for hours on end. This evolved into online streaming of “Project Inspire” kiruv videos which has, in turn, created an entire industry competing for eyeballs (and donations). None of that is necessarily bad, of course, although I’m not sure what some of those presentations have to do with Tisha B’Av.

Another appropriate time filler has been Holocaust reading materials. Considering that many consider the Holocaust as another chapter in the story of the Temple’s destruction, this too makes sense. But all those are really things that we could do on any day of the year. What was specific to Tisha B’Av? What, in other words, would Chazal have had us do to “fill time”?

Let me ask a similar question. What did our ancestors do during those long and dark hours next to the bed of a seriously ill relative?

As far as I can tell, there’s no reference to saying Tehilim for illness or other troubles in mainstream halachic literature that predates the kabbalistic revolution of the 16th Century. Just because everyone does it now, doesn’t mean that it was always done.

I once asked a talmid chacham if he was aware of any sources for reciting Tehilim under such circumstances. With a twinkle in his eye, he replied: “First you would need to find a heter.” (After all: לא נתנו דברי תורה לרפואת הגוף אלא לרפואת הנפש)

What, then, did we do during those long hours? The simple response, of course, is that we prayed. But for how long? Besides the regular shemone esrai, how many times can you repeat variations of “Please save my relative!” before it starts feeling weird? I personally suspect that God will figure out what you’re asking for after the first time (if not before).

Given that the core mitzva of bikur cholim is to ensure the patient has everything he needs, perhaps our ancestors made sure there was nothing missing, offered a heartfelt tefila, and went back to their regular responsibilities.

But here’s a different possibility that might also help us for Tisha B’Av. It’s possible that kinnus were composed as a substitute for whatever it was that had inspired people in previous generations.

What are kinnus? They’re sophisticated rabbinic riddles in a poetic form. And what does that remind you of? I don’t know about you, but they make me think of the later Prophets, Tehilim and Mishlei. Perhaps perversely, they also make me think of great English poets like Shakespeare, Milton, and Blake. (It’s no accident that there were rishonim who also read and wrote secular poetry.)

The power of poetry is in how its form can inspire emotions and push them deep into a reader’s personality. The power of poetry that’s saturated with subtle references to external sources is in how those new emotions can be founded on strong ideas.

Perhaps, then, a patient’s loved ones didn’t need to spend their time engaged in rote segulas for healing because the ideas of Tehilim (and the rest of Tanach) were already inextricably part of their personalities. A part of their consciousness will always be reflecting on what they need from God no matter what their hands might be doing.

And Tisha B’Av? Perhaps just sitting quietly in one place for hours at a time can be transformational in a positive way…as long as your mind and heart have already been trained with the hard lessons of Tanach.