On the eve of Tisha B’Av, which marks the destruction of the First Temple by the Babylonians and the Second Temple by the Romans, most restaurants in Israel close early and no comedies are broadcast on TV. As a result, when invited to a dinner at a trendy eatery in Herzliya on Saturday night, I questioned whether it would be open.
Not only was the answer yes, but the place was packed, to boot.
Seated near a large window watching the orange sun slowly sink into the Mediterranean, I felt a mixture of great fortune and guilt. The meal I was about to enjoy, the price of which could cover my rent, would be as delicious as the company was interesting. But it was the start of a somber Jewish fast day, when we should have been at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, not partying along the beach.
Years ago, an Orthodox friend contended that Tisha B’Av should have become a feast day when the State of Israel was established, because it signified that we had returned to our homeland from exile. When I asked why he did not put this theory into practice, he said his neighbors would take it the wrong way.
Indeed, Judaism is big on “marit ayin,” meaning the way things appear, which is why I’ve never been good at observing it. I am nevertheless a sucker for its spiritual tenets, moral lessons and endless wisdom. So I decided that if we were all feasting while our neighbors were fasting, I could at least make a meaningful toast befitting of the occasion.
“Let us hope that next year on Tisha B’Av, Jews will be allowed to pray on the Temple Mount,” I said, referring to the fact that today only Muslims are permitted to do so, and if any Jew is caught even mouthing words suggesting he is communing with God, Muslims and police descend upon him like the plague.
And boom, before our glasses even had a chance to clink, it was clear I had sparked a political fight. In my defense, it was one of few times I actually hadn’t intended to be provocative. I knew that the people at the table shared my views, and believed I was saying something non-controversial.