I vividly remember standing in our sanctuary on Friday afternoon, March 13, 2020, in shock and disbelief, less than an hour after sending an email canceling services. For 130 years, my predecessors and generations of congregants worked tirelessly to build and maintain Jewish life in Oakland, California, and here we were, closing the doors to the building. I slowly walked to the light switches, turned off the chandeliers that hung from the A-frame structure, and looked back one last time before exiting the building. Feeling the weight of the words from Eicha (Lamentations 5:21) for the first time in my life, I davened: 

הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ ה' אֵלֶיךָ וְנָשׁוּבָה חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵינוּ כְּקֶדֶם

Bring us back to you, God, and we will come back; renew our days as of old!

More than a year later, that return has slowly begun. First with weekday minyanim, then Shabbat morning services. The most challenging High Holy Days of my career were a chaotic success. We have celebrated britot, baby-namings, and bar mitzvahs and marked shivas — all outdoors, distanced, and masked. And finally, on March 14, 2021, a small group of us returned to the sanctuary for the first time to mark Rosh Chodesh Nissan davening, a month of renewal. 

There have been many times in the last year when I found myself looking to Jewish leaders from two-thousand years ago to see how they navigated the crushing catastrophe of the Churban Bayit Sheni (destruction of the Second Temple). 

Dr. Bryna Yocheved Levi, in her article “Zecher LeMikdash — Zecher LeChurban,” points out that the rabbinic response to destruction took place in different stages. The initial experience was one of shock and sadness: 

היה רבן יוחנן יושב ומצפה כנגד חומת ירושלים לדעת מה יעשה בה [כדרך שנאמר בעלי, 'ועלי יושב על הכסא יד דרך מצפה']. כיון שראה רבן יוחנן בן זכאי שחרב ביהמ"ק ונשרף ההיכל עמד וקרע את בגדיו וחלץ את תפליו והיה יושב ובוכה ותלמידיו עמו.

Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai was sitting and watching opposite the walls of Jerusalem, to know what would happen to it … When Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai saw that the Temple was destroyed and burned, he stood and tore his clothes and took off his Tefillin and sat and cried together with his students. Avot D’Rabbi Natan, Nusach 2 Chapter 7

But after taking time to grieve, the first generation of Tannaim who survived destruction, led by Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai, busied themselves with creating new practices to ensure that Jewish life would continue to survive. These are the gezeirot (edicts) we call zecher LeMikdash in memory of the Temple. 

Most famous among these edicts is Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai’s decision that we should carry the lulav and etrog all seven days of Sukkot, even though the Torah only commands it to be held on the first day outside of the Temple (Mishnah, Rosh Hashanah 4:3). Unprecedented times required unbelievable religious creativity to ensure that our memories of the Beit Hamikdash, the center of Judaism, would not fade. 

With fits and starts, our communities have followed in the ways of the first post-Churban generation. This past year has required unbelievable creativity and experimentation. Within the bounds of halacha, we created virtual classes, tefilot, and social opportunities. We found ways to do chesed that were unimaginable before last Purim. 

The second generation of Tannaim who led the community after the Churban faced a different set of challenges. Klal Yisrael’s emotional scars did not disappear with the passage of time. We can understand this stage and its emotional drama in a story with Rabbi Yehoshua, the leader of this second generation in the Talmud:

תנו רבנן כשחרב הבית בשניה רבו פרושין בישראל שלא לאכול בשר ושלא לשתות יין נטפל להן ר' יהושע אמר להן בני מפני מה אי אתם אוכלין בשר ואין אתם שותין יין אמרו לו נאכל בשר שממנו מקריבין על גבי מזבח ועכשיו בטל נשתה יין שמנסכין על גבי המזבח ועכשיו בטל אמר להם א"כ לחם לא נאכל שכבר בטלו מנחות אפשר בפירות פירות לא נאכל שכבר בטלו בכורים אפשר בפירות אחרים מים לא נשתה שכבר בטל ניסוך המים שתקו אמר להן בני בואו ואומר לכם שלא להתאבל כל עיקר אי אפשר שכבר נגזרה גזרה ולהתאבל יותר מדאי אי אפשר שאין גוזרין גזירה על הצבור אא"כ רוב צבור יכולין לעמוד בה דכתיב (מלאכי ג, ט) במארה אתם נארים ואותי אתם קובעים הגוי כולו אלא כך אמרו חכמים סד אדם את ביתו בסיד ומשייר בו דבר מועט.

The Sages taught in a baraita (Tosefta, Sota 15:11): When the Temple was destroyed a second time, there was an increase in the number of ascetics among the Jews, whose practice was to not eat meat and to not drink wine. Rabbi Yehoshua joined them to discuss their practice. He said to them: My children, for what reason do you not eat meat and do you not drink wine? They said to him: Shall we eat meat, from which offerings are sacrificed upon the altar, and now the altar has ceased to exist? Shall we drink wine, which is poured as a libation upon the altar, and now the altar has ceased to exist? 

Rabbi Yehoshua said to them: If so, we will not eat bread either, since the meal-offerings that were offered upon the altar have ceased. They replied: You are correct. It is possible to subsist with produce. He said to them: We will not eat produce either, since the bringing of the first fruits have ceased. They replied: You are correct. We will no longer eat the produce of the seven species from which the first fruits were brought, as it is possible to subsist with other produce. He said to them: If so, we will not drink water, since the water libation has ceased. They were silent, as they realized that they could not survive without water. 

Rabbi Yehoshua said to them: My children, come, and I will tell you how we should act. To not mourn at all is impossible, as the decree was already issued and the Temple has been destroyed. But to mourn excessively as you are doing is also impossible, as the Sages do not issue a decree upon the public unless a majority of the public is able to abide by it, as it is written: “You are cursed with the curse, yet you rob Me, even this whole nation” (Malachi 3:9), indicating that the prophet rebukes the people for neglecting observances only if they were accepted by the whole nation. Rabbi Yehoshua continues: Rather, this is what the Sages said: A person may plaster his house with plaster, but he must leave over a small amount in it without plaster to remember the destruction of the Temple. Bava Batra 60b (translation from The William Davidson digital edition of the Koren Noé Talmud)

Rabbi Yehoshua’s response to the ascetics of his day is often seen as a great display of Talmudic logic and reductio ad absurdum. But his response is also filled with deep validation and empathy for the pain of the community. He acknowledges their sadness, and their inability to move forward and live. This is the generation that codifies laws zecher LeChurban, acknowledging the losses and painful memories that deserve a place within our ritual lives. 

During the first year of the pandemic, community leaders have worked unbelievably hard to recreate Jewish life in new ways. But some of our Zoom events are underattended. Our cautious minyanim have not always reached capacity. And while more and more members have been vaccinated, after a year of “doing Shabbos” differently and at home, not everyone is rushing back to abbreviated services that don’t (yet) include childcare or kiddush. 

While religious leaders (myself included) might be frustrated with a sometimes lackluster response from our communities, we need to embody the empathy of Rabbi Yehoshua. And then we must slowly, kindly, pull our people back to life. 

Now is our moment to embody the faithful optimism of the great Tanna Rabbi Akiva, who declared, while looking at the ruins of the Bayit Sheni, that he had full emunah in the great rebuilding that was yet to come. While as leaders, our emotional batteries are running close to empty, we need to find ways to replenish ourselves, and then bring this sense of optimism to our communities. We will rebuild and use the creative muscles we developed in the last year to build back with renewed vision and deeper empathy. 

But I turn to our community members with a plea: Be our partners in bringing our communities back to life. We are waiting for you, and need your strength, your resolve, and your physical presence — we are waiting for you with open arms and can’t do this alone. With Hashem’s help, in the coming months we will turn again to the words of Eicha again as we bring back our sifrei Torah and ourselves to our sanctuaries, with the unique joy that comes from having walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and made it through to the other side: 

הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ ה' אֵלֶיךָ וְנָשׁוּבָה חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵינוּ כְּקֶדֶם

Bring us back to you, God, and we will come back; renew our days as of old!

May the communities we rebuild, congregants and leaders together, have the best of the old, but the openness for the creative good that is yet to come.