Although our official mourning for the destruction of the Bet haMiqdash ends the day after Tish’a BeAb, our rabbis established certain traditions of mourning that are maintained throughout the year, as a permanent reminder that the Bet haMiqdash has not yet been rebuilt.

The Gemara in Baba Batra 60b mentions that when a Jewish family builds a house, it should not cover the walls with ceramics, carpets, or other elaborate coverings. Maimonides codifies this as follows:

משחרב בית המקדש, תיקנו חכמים שהיו באותו הדור, שאין בונין לעולם בניין מסוייד ומכוייר, כבניין המלכים; אלא טח ביתו בטיט, וסד בסיד, ומשייר מקום אמה על אמה כנגד הפתח, בלא סיד.

“When our Bet haMiqdash was destroyed, the rabbis of that generation established that we should not build a building covered as the residences of kings. Rather, when plastering the walls with clay and lime, one should leave a space of one ama by one ama without lime.”

As we see, there are two elements to bear in mind when finishing a house:

1. Not coating the walls of the house with luxurious materials.

2. Leaving a space of the wall unfinished (Peninei Halakha, Ha’am veha-Arets, p. 186, according to Beit Yosef on Shulhan ‘Arukh 560).

Other rabbis, following the opinion of the Tur (Rabbenu Asher ben Yehiel), were more lenient and did not restrict the materials used to coat private Jewish homes. According to this view, all that is required is that, when building a house, one should leave at the entrance, facing the front door, a square of the wall unfinished and unpainted, so that every time we walk into our home, we remember that the house of haShem is still in ruins.

Most contemporary rabbis follow this second opinion.

The size of this uncoated section is approximately 1.5 ft by 1.5 ft (אמה על אמה). This area should be left unplastered and unpainted. Similarly, if one uses wallpaper instead of paint, this segment should be left without wallpaper.

If possible, the unfinished segment should be on the wall opposite the entrance or as close to the front door as possible, so that all who enter the house will see it. Among Ashkenazim, some leave the unfinished square above the main door.

If someone purchases a previously inhabited home, does he need to remove plaster to expose an unfinished section?

It depends. If the previous owner was Jewish, and thus obligated to leave the uncoated square and did not, the new Jewish owner is now responsible for fulfilling this obligation. However, if the previous owner was not Jewish—and therefore not obligated—the new Jewish owner is not required to leave an unfinished section (Shulhan ‘Arukh OH 560:1), although he may choose to do so voluntarily.

In this case, or in other situations where there is technically no obligation (such as a rented home), one may instead hang a picture or decorative piece featuring Yerushalayim, its walls, or the phrase:

אם אשכחך ירושלים
“If I forget thee, O Jerusalem…”

This serves to educate ourselves and our children to remember the Bet haMiqdash.

Following the destruction of the Second Temple, a major change took place in Am Israel. It seemed that after the destruction and exile, it was no longer possible to live in a normal manner. The people could not conceive of pursuing a life with joy and celebrations without the Bet haMiqdash.

The Talmud (Baba Batra 60b) tells the following story:

“When the Temple was destroyed for the second time (68 CE), many Jews began living as ascetics, depriving themselves of eating meat or drinking wine. Rabbi Yehoshua said, ‘My children, why do you not eat meat or drink wine?’ They replied: ‘How can we eat meat, which used to be brought as an offering on the altar (mizbeach), now that the altar is ruined? How can we drink wine, which used to be poured as a libation on the altar, now that the altar is destroyed?’ He said to them, ‘If so, do not eat bread anymore, because the offering of bread (lechem haPanim) was also disrupted.’ They said: ‘[You’re right. From now on we will not eat bread;] we will consume only fruits.’ ‘Nor can you eat from the fruits of Israel,’ Rabbi Yehoshua told them, ‘because they are no longer being offered as first-fruits (bikkurim).’ ‘So we will eat other fruits of the earth (such as vegetables and legumes),’ they said. ‘But,’ he said to them, ‘you will not be able to drink water, because water was also poured on the altar (nisukh hamayim), and that has been disrupted too.’ At this point, they no longer found a possible answer. So Rabbi Yehoshua said, ‘My children, listen. Not to mourn for our Bet haMiqdash is impossible, but mourning excessively is also impossible, because we cannot impose restrictions that most people are not able to follow.’”

Rabbi Yehoshua went on to explain that we must continue living a normal life. We cannot allow our great mourning for the destruction of the Holy Temple to produce a permanent and eternal state of national mourning, and forbid eating meat or drinking wine, which are symbols of celebration. We need to find the delicate balance between national mourning and personal joy. There are some symbolic, discreet things we can do to remember the destruction of the Bet haMiqdash in times of celebration, so that while our Temple is in ruins, our happiness will never be complete.

Therefore, the Sages taught, for example, that on the wedding day, the groom should have the Bet haMiqdash in his mind above his personal joy, placing some ashes on his head as a discreet sign of mourning. Similarly, when a celebratory meal is prepared, we leave aside one dish in remembrance of the destruction of the Temple.

The Sages who lived during the generation of the Bet haMiqdash instituted certain traditions related to grief, to help us remember—during moments of celebration—that our Bet haMiqdash is still in ruins. We mentioned, for example, the custom of placing ashes on the head of the bridegroom, leaving an unfinished segment of a new house’s wall, etc.

Today we will examine another such tradition—lesser known and, in many communities, nearly forgotten.

Rambam writes the following (Hilchot Ta’aniyot 5:13):

וכן התקינו שהעורך שולחן לעשות סעודה לאורחים מחסר ממנו מעט ומניח מקום פנוי בלא קערה מן הקערות הראויות לתת לשם

“Likewise, [our Sages] decreed that when one sets a table for a meal with guests, some food should be left out, and a space should be left empty [on the table] where a dish would normally be placed.”

To better understand this halakha, we will explain several of its details:

1. This practice applies specifically to festive meals prepared for guests and does not refer to regular daily meals.

2. Meals held on Shabbat or Jewish holidays are excluded from this practice, since on Shabbat and Yom Tob we are not permitted to show visible signs of grief.

3. There is a discussion among the rabbis as to whether festive meals for personal religious celebrations (se’udot mitsva, such as a Berit Mila, Bar Mitsva, etc.) fall under this practice. Rabbi Eliezer Melamed and others maintain that they do. According to Rabbi Mordechai Eliyahu z”l and other authorities, they do not.

4. In indicating our obligation to remember the Bet haMiqdash, the Sages clearly did not want us to engage in overt or heavy displays of mourning when hosting a festive meal. Rather, the intention was a discreet and indirect expression: the absence of a dish.

The challenge—and perhaps the reason this tradition has fallen into disuse—lies in how to implement it today in a meaningful way. The methods of presenting, displaying, and serving food have changed significantly since the time of the Mishnah (1st–2nd centuries CE). In that era, food presentation followed a well-established protocol, including a set number of dishes and a fixed arrangement. As a result, guests could easily notice that a specific dish was missing, recognizing this omission as a subtle reminder that the celebration was not entirely complete without the Bet haMiqdash.

Over time, the number and variety of dishes served at festive meals changed. It became increasingly difficult—or impossible—for guests to detect that a dish was intentionally left out. Thus, as Maimonides describes, the symbolic gesture became primarily the act of leaving a section of the table empty, rather than omitting a specific dish. Even in Maimonides’ time, this empty space could still be understood as a meaningful expression of grief.

Today, with such a wide variety of foods and styles of presentation, it would be nearly impossible for guests to notice that a specific dish is missing, or to recognize that an empty space on the table is a gesture of mourning.

Nevertheless, since this enactment was instituted by the Sages—and is not merely a popular custom—many contemporary rabbis believe it is appropriate to continue observing this practice, even if it is recognizable only to the hosts. For example, if a host plans to serve several types of dishes to entertain guests, they may choose, in memory of the Bet haMiqdash, to omit one of those planned dishes. Alternatively, when serving food buffet-style, they could leave a portion of the table empty, as described by the Rambam and Shulchan Arukh, even if this act is only understood by the host.

Some suggest that, from an educational perspective, when hosting a celebration, one could also place a discreet, decorative item on the table as a subtle reminder of Yerushalayim and the Bet haMiqdash.

This year, 2025, the fast of Tish’a BeAb begins on Saturday night, August 2, and ends on Sunday night, August 3, at 8:38pm in New York (some communities end at a different time—check your local times).

Like in 2022, we are once again faced with the unique situation of transitioning from Shabbat, a day of joy, into Tish’a BeAb, the saddest day of the Jewish calendar.

Here’s how we make that transition in practice:

🔹 SHABBAT MINCHA

On this special Shabbat, Mincha (the afternoon prayer) is held earlier than usual, to leave time for the final Shabbat meal to be eaten at home. This year, Se’uda Shelishit, the third meal of Shabbat, will not be held communally at synagogue but privately at home.

🔹 THE LAST MEAL

Typically, before the fast begins, we have the Seudat haMafseqet, a mourner-style meal: bread, lentils, and a hard-boiled egg, eaten while sitting on the ground. But when Tish’a BeAb begins on Saturday night, this meal is replaced by Se’uda Shelishit, which is a regular Shabbat meal.

You may eat meat, drink wine, sing zemirot, and learn Torah as usual.

The only restriction is time:
Se’uda Shelishit must be finished before sunset, which is at 8:09pm in New York on August 2.

After this time, no more food or drink may be consumed.

🔹 TRANSITION PERIOD (8:09pm – 8:59pm).

Shabbat is still in effect between 8:09pm (a few minutes before sunset) and 8:59pm (nightfall, please, notice that these are the times for UMJCA, Other communities would end Shabbat a few minutes earlier or later). See here: https://www.myzmanim.com/search.aspx?lang=en

We cannot perform any weekday (Melakha) or mourning activities (abelut).

We remain dressed in Shabbat clothing.

We do not yet change shoes or prepare for Tish’a BeAb.

We may not eat or drink, as the fast has already begun.

At 8:59pm, once night has fallen:

We privately say: “Barukh haMavdil ben qodesh lechol” (Blessed is He who separates between the holy and the mundane)

Only then do we begin the practices of mourning.

🔹 FIRST ACTS OF MOURNING

After verbally ending Shabbat:

We change from leather shoes to non-leather footwear.

We switch from Shabbat clothes to weekday attire.

Then we go to synagogue for the Tish’a BeAb night service.

Most synagogues delay Arbit slightly (15–20 minutes after Shabbat ends) to allow time for these transitions.

🔹 HABDALA ON TISHA BEAB

We do not recite the full Habdala ceremony on Saturday night.

Instead:

We say “Ata Chonantanu” during the Amida of Arbit.

We recite only the blessing of “Bore Me’ore haEsh” (over a flame) before reading Echa.

The full Habdala with wine (HaGefen and HaMabdil) is postponed until Sunday night, after the fast ends.

🔹 TISHA BEAB NIGHT IN THE SYNAGOGUE

The evening prayer begins with Psalm 137: Al Neharot Babel, the mournful psalm of the Babylonian exile.

Then we read:

Megillat Ekha (Lamentations), written by the Prophet Yirmiyahu (Jeremiah), which recounts the destruction of Jerusalem and the First Temple in 586 BCE.

This is followed by the recitation of Qinot (elegies), poetic laments for national tragedies throughout Jewish history.

The synagogue is dimmed. We sit on the floor, mourning not only ancient destruction, but also centuries of Jewish suffering.

Many communities conclude the night with a solemn announcement of the years that have passed since the destruction of our Second Bet Hamiqdash, which according to our account happened in the year 68. (חיים ):

“Listen, oh our brothers of the house of Israel… today we count 1957 years since the destruction of our Bet haMiqdash.”

May this be the last year we cry for Jerusalem.

Moshe addresses the people of Israel —the new generation of Israelites who are about to enter the Land of Israel— in a long and powerful speech. His words begin by recalling the events that took place from the time of the Exodus from Egypt, forty years earlier, until the present moment.

Moshe also recounts the appointment of leaders and judges to assist him in guiding the people. This initiative would later serve as a foundational model for the judicial system of the nation of Israel, establishing the principle of shared responsibility and justice.

He then retells the story of the spies, and how —with the exception of Yehoshua and Caleb— they discouraged the nation, spreading fear and doubt, which led to a national crisis. As a consequence of this episode, that entire generation was denied entry into the Promised Land. This turning point caused the people of Israel to wander in the desert for forty years, awaiting the rise of a new generation.

God tells Moshe that the people had remained long enough in the mountainous region and that the time had come to move forward toward the Promised Land. He instructs them not to provoke or engage in conflict with the descendants of Esav, who lived in the land of Se’ir. Instead, they are commanded to purchase food and water from them —not to take anything by force— because God had not granted Israel any portion of the land of Se’ir.

Similarly, God commands Moshe not to harass the Moabites or the Ammonites, since their lands were given by God as an inheritance to the descendants of Lot. These nations were not to be disturbed, respecting the divine allotment of territories.

The Israelites then spent thirty-eight years journeying from Kadesh-Barnea to the crossing of the Zered River. During that time, the entire earlier generation —those who had rebelled— perished in the wilderness, just as God had decreed.

Moshe reminds the people that he had sent envoys to Sihon, the king of the Amorites, with a peaceful offer, requesting safe passage through his territory. However, Sihon refused and instead prepared for battle. The Israelites were then forced to engage in war with Sihon, king of Cheshbon, and they ultimately conquered his land.

The Torah then describes in detail the subsequent conquest of the territories of both Sihon and Og, king of Bashan, on the eastern side of the Jordan River. These newly acquired lands were allocated to the tribes of Reuven, Gad, and the half-tribe of Menasheh, establishing their inheritance on the eastern bank of the Jordan, even before crossing into the main body of the Promised Land.

MOURNING FOR TISH’A BEAB

THE THREE HAFTAROT

The mourning customs observed between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av vary from one community to another. But there is a tradition that is the same for Sephardic, Ashkenazi, and all Jewish communities around the world: the Haftarot that we read during the three Shabbats between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av. These three texts are known in Hebrew as תלתא דפורענותא, the prophecies that predicted the tragedies we had to live through.

First, let’s better understand what the Haftarah is. In the synagogue, after completing the reading of the weekly Torah portion, we read a text from the Prophets that relates in content to the biblical portion that has just concluded. The Haftarot were established by our Sages about 2,000 years ago when the Romans prohibited Jews from reading the Torah, with the purpose of recalling the weekly biblical portion. The Haftarot we read during these three Shabbats, however, are not thematically related to the weekly portion but to the destruction of the Bet haMiqdash and the exile.

To be more precise, these Haftarot that describe the historical events related to these tragedies were expressed by two prophets, Jeremiah and Isaiah when they warned the people of Israel about the consequences of abandoning the covenant with God, that is, His Torah. The message is very simple: when the Jewish people do not follow God’s commandments, when they worship idols and commit other abominations, the Almighty suspends His protection, and the Jewish people—who were never known for their military power—are at the mercy of their ruthless enemies and consequently suffer invasions, destruction, and exile.

EXCHANGING A NATURAL SPRING FOR A POROUS CISTERN

The first of the three Haftarot, which we read last week, is from the first chapter of the Book of Jeremiah (Dibré Yirmiyahu) and deals with his initiation into prophecy and his delicate mission to warn Israel about the consequences of their actions. The Haftarah corresponding to this week’s Torah portion, Mattot-Mas’e, is the second of the three special Haftarot. The prophet Jeremiah criticizes Israel for abandoning God and being ungrateful to Him, forgetting that Hashem took us out of slavery, protected us from the dangers of the desert, and led us to a land of abundance.

Jeremiah expresses shock and indignation at the behavior of Israel and says with sorrow that if one were to search in all corners of the planet, it would be difficult to find a nation so foolish and senseless. To exemplify the behavior of our people, Jeremiah uses a profound metaphor: a town has a beautiful spring of fresh and abundant water. This natural source continuously produces water and doesn’t even require maintenance. The people of this town are truly privileged: unlike all other cities, they do not depend on collecting rainwater for their survival because the freshwater source provides them with everything they need for their well-being and prosperity. Jeremiah implies that Hashem, God, is to Israel what the water source is to that privileged people: their abundant privileged source of life. But inexplicably, the people of that town abandon the water spring, turn their backs on it, and to obtain water; they dig cisterns with their own hands! These artificial wells do not have their own water; they are completely dry when it doesn’t rain and cannot even retain the water they absorb from rain because they are full of cracks. Who would conceive of abandoning a natural water spring and seeking to collect the precious liquid in broken cisterns?

This is the powerful message of Jeremiah’s text. Abandoning God, the source of physical and spiritual life for Israel is not only a betrayal of our covenant with God but also an act of foolishness, a shame for anyone who considers themselves intelligent. And, of course, it is also “offensive and humiliating to the Abandoned Spring,” that is, God, who has been “replaced” by His own nation and replaced with false idols that the Yehudim have made with their own hands.

WHO WILL HELP US NOW?

Although the rabbis added some additional verses to conclude the Haftarah with a positive and hopeful message, towards the end of this text, we find a verse with a harsh but very relevant lesson that, unfortunately, we still need to learn. On the one hand, the people of Israel abandoned God, betrayed Him, turned their backs on Him, and sought false gods. But, surprise! When the Jews have to face difficult times and imminent tragedies, they finally realize that the gods of Egypt, Assyria, and other nations were only clay and wood. And only then, when no one else can help them, they remember God, pray to Him, and plead: “Please, Hashem, save us, rescue us!” (Jeremiah 2:27 כִּֽי־פָנ֥וּ אֵלַ֛י עֹ֖רֶף וְלֹ֣א פָנִ֑ים וּבְעֵ֤ת רָעָתָם֙ יֹֽאמְר֔וּ ק֖וּמָה וְהוֹשִׁיעֵֽנוּ).

If we look for a relevant lesson for the present in this Haftarah, perhaps this is the most fitting one. In difficult times when we are desperate because no one else can help us, only then do we remember God, pray to Him, and say, “Please, help us.” And when we are fine, we forget about our Creator, abandon His commandments, and don’t even thank Him for His continuous and abundant blessings.

Rabbi Yosef Bitton