It has been said that tears are the silent language of mourning. With the imminent arrival of Tisha B’Av, the lugubrious day when we collectively mourn the destruction of the Holy Temple with the accompanying loss of life, I lament that for all the kinnot that we offer up, there seems to be a paucity of tears. If the following five Yiddish terms do not bring tears to our eyes, then perhaps—at the very least—they will tug at our heartstrings.
Rysen dos hartz (tears at the heart): It wasn’t just the Holy Temple that was destroyed, it was also the concomitant loss of life as well as the ensuing expulsion of our people. The Romans were the enablers of the Inquisition of Spain, the Crusades of the Rhineland and the pogroms of Eastern Europe. And that’s just for starters. If we are unable to cry for joy that for the last 76 years we have been blessed with a Jewish homeland, let us at least cry as our people’s history led to “rysen dos hartz” for close to two thousand years.
Meetlyden (sharing of sorrow). These last 10 months may very well be the first time in Jewish history of mutual “meetlyden” between Jews of the diaspora and our Israeli brothers and sisters. Jews in the United States—as well as other countries around the world—were stunned as we saw 1,200 innocent lives snuffed out and over 250 innocents taken hostage by a stain on humanity known as Hamas. Jews in Israel were at a loss for words as they learned of antisemitism once again rearing its despicable head on college campuses and elsewhere, in countries where Jews were assured that there is nothing to worry about. Shouldn’t that be enough to spur our “meetlyden” for those who perished two millennia ago at the hands of the Romans?
Troyehr (mourning): The year 5784 may very well be remembered as a year of mourning. In addition to those murdered at the hands of the Palestinian enemy, as well as the hundreds of Israeli soldiers who valiantly sacrificed their lives in defense of the land of Israel and its citizens, we mourn the perversion of our values and morals. Had those whose hearts cried for the Palestinians over these last 10 months been alive during World War II, they would have in all likelihood expressed revulsion at the loss of Nazi lives as well as repulsion at the destruction of German cities by the Allied forces. If we can’t express “troyehr” for current events, let us at least express “troyehr” for Tisha B’Av.
Trehren (tears): If it’s true that tears come from the heart and not from the brain, then anyone who had a heart would be brought to tears at the high price we Jews have paid throughout our history. To be sure, there were cataclysmic events such as Purim when our people’s very existence was in abeyance. But Tisha B’Av marked the first time in our collective history when tears flowed as we felt the pain of our vulnerability and fear of unknown enemies. A meaningful Tisha B’Av is one when ess geest trehren (tears fall) because we feel the pain of our people.
Gehndzehneh hoyt (goose flesh). As a Jewish baby boomer, I was raised in the shadow of the Shoah. Accordingly, much of my Jewish education was shaped by man’s inhumanity to man. I can’t help but wonder if the necessary time spent teaching us about Hitler and his minions may have been at the expense of Tisha B’Av. After all, it is these two horrific events in our history—and no others—that merit the Hebrew/Yiddish term “churban.” As such, both Tisha B’Av and the Shoah should leave us with “gehndzehneh hoyt.”
True “troyehr” results in “rysen dos hartz,” “trehren” in our eyes, and being covered with “gehndzehneh hoyt.” If we are able to achieve all three, then our “meetlyden” will be sincere and complete, bringing us that much closer to the rebuilding of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. May it happen speedily in our days.
Rabbi Shawn Zell has recently returned to New Jersey, after serving at a pulpit in Dallas. He possesses certification in teaching Yiddish. Rabbi Zell is the author of three books.
