Tisha B’Av Reflections in the Present Moment

Written by Rabbi Amitai Fraiman, Founding Director of the Z3 Project

The past 660 days have been incredibly difficult. Actually, devastating might be a more accurate word, and I’m still not sure it is strong enough. If I’m being honest, I don't even know if I can fully express the enormity of this period. It will take a much longer time and done by more eloquent people than myself to start capturing the realities we have been living through.

Personally, I haven't even lived in Israel for over a decade. I can't even imagine what my family and friends are living through. Not to mention those impacted directly: hostages, soldiers and their families. How do I find the audacity to speak about the moment?

And all of this without having even mentioned the millions in Gaza suffering from Hamas’ oppression. Their war machine and neglect of the Palestinian people has caused a new level of devastation, leaving many parts of that beautiful strip of land in utter ruin.

And right before our eyes, it's only getting worse.

Understandably, everyone wants to help. However, the noise and pandemonium around the conversation is deafening. It's nearly impossible to separate fact from fiction, good intention from bad. For every fact there is a counter fact. For every expert witness, there are ten to undermine them. This is not a statement about a specific accounting of the reality, nor is it meant to be an equivocation of any sorts about the ugly truth that is undeniable—the war since the almost mythological hellish evil we all saw live streamed on October 7 has unleashed a military response of biblical proportions without an end in sight. Not for the hostages. Not for the Israelis. And not for the Palestinians.

At the end of the day, what can we do? What can we say that is of substance, not merely moral grand standing? How many more hollow strategic-geo-political-ethical-statements can be made that carry little weight and don’t seem to move the needle?

Many of us, myself included, are grappling with the question “What is our responsibility?”.

I’m not sure I have the answer, or if it’s meaningful, but here is what’s going through my mind in this convoluted moment.

It goes without saying, the hostages must be released. The war must end. Hamas and its evil partners in chaos and destruction need to be obliterated and the Israelis and Palestinians need to get a fair chance at living peacefully and in prosperity.

Additionally, our role, particularly those who are outside of the line of fire, must act and speak responsibly. We must keep in mind the ultimate end goal and act in a way that we believe will bring that vision of peace closer. That is our role.

And that means not amplifying hate, not magnifying destructive voices (even if they seem to be on “our side”) and that means to be expansive in our empathy, while being clear about our intentions.

Coincidentally, or possibly uncoincidentally, we find ourselves on the eve of Tisha B’Av. The sermons about baseless hate and destruction are writing themselves faster than even AI can keep up with. But still, I think it's worth focusing on one of the stories at the heart of this day of mourning, which Jews have been continuously observing for over 2000 years.

Although there are many stories told on this very heavy day, in this moment I am reminded of the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza. This particular story tells of a mistaken invitation to a banquet that led to public humiliation, rabbinic silence, and eventual betrayal to the Romans. The fallout from this small personal conflict—rooted in baseless hatred—set in motion events that contributed to the destruction of the Second Temple.

There are striking parallels between this story and our current moment. At its core are unmet human needs, wounded egos, rigid principles and the silence of leaders. Though the tale can be read to support many viewpoints, its deeper message is universal: internal division, moral inflexibility and uncharitable behavior can lead to our downfall.

In moments like this, we must continue to force ourselves to be in community. To be open to different perspectives, lean into our greater community even when we might not fully agree on something. In fact, we should continue to be in community especially when these difficult moments present themselves. Because working through them is how we will build a stronger, more resilient shared future.