The Longest Running "Nu?" in History

July 24, 2026/10 Av 5786/Shabbat Va'Etchanan/Shabbat Nachamu

Hevre/Friends,

Welcome to the season of Jewish guilt!

It began three weeks ago with the fast of the 17th of Tamuz, marking the day the Romans breached the walls of Jerusalem on their way to destroying the second Temple. That launched us into the "Three Weeks" of mourning restrictions: no live music, no haircuts, no weddings or B-Mitzvah celebrations (aka kosher caterers vacation). By the first of Av the mourning intensified into the "Nine Days": no meat, no wine, no new clothes until Tisha B'Av (the 9th of Av) itself - which was yesterday - when we fasted and mourned the destruction of both Temples and the devastation of ancient Jerusalem.

The fast is now behind us. The guilt, however, is just warming up. Elul is a few weeks away, and with it the deep introspection and work of repentance that carries us through Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 

Getting excited?

What is Jewish guilt, anyway? Catholic guilt says "you sinned." Jewish guilt says "you sinned, and after everything I did for you." Protestant guilt says "you sinned, but let's not make a scene."

It seems like Catholic guilt is about what you did. Jewish guilt is about what you did, what you didn't do, what you were thinking of doing, and what your cousin did that brought shame on your whole family.

Of all the teachings about Jewish guilt, especially those that blame the fall of the Temples on our own failings, there's one that might make you laugh if it weren't so haunting. It comes from the Talmud Yerushalmi:

"Any generation that doesn't rebuild the Temple shares responsibility for its destruction."

Seriously? We're personally on the hook for something that happened in the year 70? You? Me? The Church says you inherit original sin. We inherit an unfinished construction project. And every year it's not done, it's on us. It is the longest-running "Nu?" in recorded history.

And we institutionalized it. Three weeks of mourning. Fast days. A glass broken at every wedding. At the happiest moment of your life, you’re  reminded about the unfinished renovation. "Mazel tov!! Also, the Temple. Just so you know. Enjoy the party."

Some Jewish radicals have tried to lay a cornerstone for a third Temple, and, in violation of the longstanding status quo, over 3,000 went up to the Temple Mount yesterday to pray on Tisha B'Av. It will surprise none of you that I am not in favour of rebuilding the Temple and reinstituting animal sacrifice. (Although life with a puppy has given me new sympathy for the impulse.) What I am in favour of is rebuilding what the Temple stood for. Rebuilding a world worthy of a Temple:

• A civilization where heavenly ideals meet their earthly expressions: justice, peace, integrity, generosity, light, and love.

• A society that gathers diverse people - and not only a diverse Jewish people -  in unity, in harmony, in shared recognition of all that is precious and holy in life.

• A world where compassion and patience overrule resentment and revenge; where forgiveness is asked and granted with humility.

• A world the holy One beholds and says: "Yes! I'd like a home there. Build me a Temple in Jerusalem! Okay, there's no parking, there are constant arguments, and the neighbors can be impossible. But the light. The light is incredible."

I think the Sages understood something profound when they made every generation answerable for the Temple it didn't rebuild. They taught us that guilt isn't only for what you've done; it's for making peace with what you haven't done. It's like saying to a friend: "I'm not mad that you forgot my birthday. I'm mad that you were okay with it."

The teaching summons us to own all the rebuilding we know we should be doing and aren't. It jolts us out of complacency; it refuses to let us make peace with our own moral and spiritual laziness.

With great sensitivity, the tradition calls this Shabbat, “Shabbat Nachamu”: "Nachamu, Nachamu, Ami/Comfort, comfort My people," says Isaiah in the first haftarah after Tisha B’Av. We don't just sit with our guilt. It’s followed by comfort.  But the word for comfort, nechamah, also means to effect change. In other words, comfort comes with a demand: get up and rebuild.

So here's my message to you this Shabbat: Start rebuilding. One boulder at a time. One act of chessed at a time. One mitzvah at a time. One Shabbat guest at a time. One visit to someone ill at a time. One loving word at a time. One act of solidarity at a time. One study session at a time. One hour of volunteering at a time. One tzedakah donation at a time. One grudge released at a time. One apology at a time. One forgiveness at a time.

With one stone at a time, together we won’t raise a physical Temple but we’ll build a sanctuary of healing and renewal - for our people and for humanity.

We are not the generation that destroyed the Temple. But two thousand years is a long time for a job site to sit empty. It's time to break new ground. Pick up a shovel.

Yallah.

Shabbat Shalom,

Dini

Photo by Ronen Avisror