In Tunis, the capitol of Tunisia, the chief rabbi, Rabbi Yehoshua Bassin, had police power granted him by the local authorities. One Tisha b’Av, a well-to-do Jew opened his store. Rabbi Yehoshua sent some people to the merchant with orders to close the store. The Jew refused.

The messengers returned, reporting the refusal. Rabbi Yehoshua sent them again and again the Jew refused. “That happened two thousand years ago. It has nothing to do with me.” The messengers came back, relaying the Jew’s rationale. Rabbi Bessin, “We’ll take our time with this one.”

Fast forward to the morning of Purim eve, some seven months later. Rabbi Yehoshua sends some of his “gendarmes” to the rich Jew with a summons to appear before him. In addition, they also have instructions to take him by force, should he refuse. Sure enough, when they arrive and tell him that he is to immediately go to the rabbi’s home, he refuses. “What?! It’s Purim eve. There’s so much to do and prepare. I don’t have time.” When he refused to go willingly, they handcuffed him (or however they did it in Tunis of old), and dragged him to Rabbi Bassin’s.

Rabbi Bassin told the merchant to wait outside his office. The unhappy merchant waited and waited. The longer he waited, the unhappier and more impatient he became. Finally, as the afternoon shadows become more pronounced, he can’t stand it any more. He jumps up and burst into Rabbi Yehoshua’s office. “Rabbi! You called me to your office. What do you want? It’s getting late. It’s almost Purim and I have much to prepare!”

The rabbi looked at him, “What are you in such a rush to prepare for? What’s the big to-do?”

The merchant was shocked. “What’s the big to-do? It’s Purim! The great miracle that God made for us through Mordechai and Esther, to save us from Haman!”

“That concerns you?” asked Rabbi Yehoshua. “That happened two thousand years ago, like Tisha b’Av. What has it got to do with you?” Rabbi Bassin continued. “Remember what King David says (Psalms 137:5), ‘If I forget you, Jerusalem, may yemini (literally, my right hand) be forgotten.’ If one forgets about the destruction of Jerusalem, he cannot properly recall the holiday of ish Yemini (Esther 2:5, a reference to Mordechai).”

The moral of the story (one of them, anyway) is that we cannot divorce any episode of Jewish history from our personal experience. One can’t be a “good time” Jew or a “fair-weather” Jew. The loss of the Beit HaMikdash (holy Temple), how, why and by whom it was destroyed, and the responsibility we bear for it has to be thought about it and taken to heart.

There’s a common mistake made by many, that Rebbe Nachman of Breslov’s teachings are always warm and fuzzy. The Rebbe zl is demanding as well. In Likutey Moharan (Part II, Lesson #67), Rebbe Nachman tells us that God is waiting with anticipation to return to us and build the Beit HaMikdash. Instead of getting in the way, we should assist in its building and pray for it. Then the Rebbe poses a suggestion:

Perhaps in your first incarnation you were the cause for its destruction. Even if not, perhaps now you are the one preventing its being rebuilt. That’s tantamount to causing its destruction.

Rough words, painful. Challenging. Are you part of the problem, or contributing to the solution? Let’s think about this honestly on Tisha b’Av (and other times during the year). Let’s accept responsibility for our past failures and start today to work on rebuilding the Beit HaMikdash. After all, it’s not just God’s home. It’s our home, too.

© Copyright 2013 O. Bergman/148West