Dear Temple B’nai Emet Family,
I write this as a deal has just been announced between the United States and Iran to end the war of the past three-and-a-half months. I pray that by the time you read this in the Clarion, the war is indeed truly over. But I think it is safe to say that no matter what happens between now and then, we will still feel as though we are reeling. News today happens at breakneck speed. Of course, technology plays its part–we can hold the world in the literal palms of our hands, instantly picking up on everything from what happens in a war to the latest thing said by the friend of someone remotely famous.
But, is it just me, or does the world actually move faster, nowadays? Technology doesn’t just affect the speed with which we read the news. It also affects the speed with which we make news. It seems that everything from science to politics to entertainment adapts and moves forward constantly. We’re not just acting, we’re reacting. Do we really think we can move that quickly with stability?
If I’m even a little bit right, this can’t be good for the polarization in our society. If our hot button topics are always just that–hot–without any chance for cooldown, we will react rather than listen. There is a lot to unpack about the war with Iran and a lot we do not really know about the negotiations to end it. But that does not stop a constant public back-and-forth. Politicians and news outlets scramble to get out a message to appeal to the audience that most pays attention to them and then tells the audience what it wants to hear. No time to think or discuss, much less to actually hear a different perspective–just react.
If you think I’m calling out those other people you don’t listen to, think again. I see this problem with every political, cultural, and ideological persuasion. We as Jews are certainly affected by this problem as well. What happens in Israel, the U.S., and elsewhere is a constant source of angst, of course. And we seem to wring our hands in dismay more than we stroke our chins in thought.
This is certainly not the first time I have called out society’s inability to have productive discussion over difficult matters. But what I am emphasizing here is the need to take a thoughtful moment–something there is unfortunately a ton of pressure not to do.
The last two Shabbat services before this writing, when we were reading the portions of Sh’lach and Korach, I touched upon different aspects of the need to pause before reacting. This includes the example of the horrible consequences of a refusal to listen to a positive and faithful dissenting opinion. It also includes Moses and Aaron “falling upon their faces” to give room to their distress at the actions of the people and to seek Divine communication before they replied in upset.
Last Shabbat in particular, I spoke of our need to exemplify that pause in our lives with our central ritual time of Shabbat itself. Now more than ever, whatever your relationship to electronics on Shabbat, I strongly recommend resisting the temptation to check your news feed for at least that one holy day a week. Just as we need a pause in our conversations to keep our emotions from overwhelming our responses and to allow ourselves to listen, so too do we need a pause in our lives to not be bombarded with worldly facts or professional worries.
But, as important and helpful as Shabbat is, there are more subtle features in our calendar to help us extend a sense of thoughtfulness into our mundane lives.
One such feature begins the night of July 1, 2026, or 17 Tamuz, 5786. This marks the three-week period leading up to the ancient destruction of the Temple on 9 Av, which falls on the night of July 22 through the daytime of July 23. The beginning of this period is marked by a minor, daytime-only fast on July 2 and ends with a full 25-hour fast, much of which includes mourning practices. The 9th of Av, Tisha B’Av, is the only day of the year for which we encourage a sustained focus on the negative, and we try to make sure that this focus is given a safe space and stops by midday, even if we’re still fasting.
What of the rest of the three weeks? We go about our lives–but with reminders, certain traditions that guide us away from overt public celebrations. And as the month of Av begins, some give up particular joys, like wine and meat, on weekdays. (Please contact me for guidance on these traditions.) But we still work, we still kiss our loved ones, we still share a smile with someone that needs the encouragement. And we talk through our challenges.
Judaism does not like to dwell in asceticism, but when our traditions give us brief moments of deprivation, perhaps one takeaway is the reminder that we can do these practices, we can remind ourselves of our pain, and still go on living.
I advised going news-silent for Shabbat, but going all week while shutting out the world? That is neither advisable nor practical. We cannot always take a pause. But if we do take a pause at least some of the time, and occasionally remind ourselves of how much we are capable of when we are fully in our lives… Then perhaps it is not too much to ask that we think about what someone from a different belief system or political party writes, or check in with that team member we usually ignore, or listen to the loved one calling for attention at an inopportune time.
The ancient Temple destruction was the initial reason for this three week period. Our Sages and our history teach that our most sustained exile resulted from enmity and sectarianism, without the will to bridge the divide. We all know there has been no shortage of sorrow or division since then. We don’t do things to remind us of pain just to feel bad. We remind ourselves of pain because the pain exists whether we deal with it or not. Let us embrace our most thoughtful and open-minded responses to that pain and handle our challenges together.
May these days be a time of contemplation and repair for us all.
With hopes and prayers,
Michael J. Feldman
