Fasting for Gedaliah and Contemplating October 7
Throwback Thursday
Today is the Fast of Gedaliah, which follows Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), which we celebrated over the past two days.1
The post only indirectly discusses Middle East politics and the Israeli-Palestinian war. The situation has only become more awful and more dire. As a humanist, I hate the unbearable suffering. As a friend of Israel, I hate how their continued prosecution of the war is undermining their global standing and alienating their friends and supporters. The war and destruction is continuing primarily because of the sheer venality of Israel’s prime minister and his small coterie of supporters and allies.
Like everything happening in the world today, I feel powerless in the face of it.
This post is mostly about the spiritual meaning of the Fast of Gedaliah, although it has political overtones.
Fasting for Gedaliah and Contemplating October 7
As I wrote this I was observing (imperfectly to be honest) the Fast of Gedaliah. This is a minor fast, from dawn to nightfall, that takes place the day after Rosh Hashanah (this year it is a day after the day after because of Shabbat.) This year, on the eve of the anniversary of October 7, the Fast hits hard.
An Ancient Tragedy
The Fast of Gedaliah commemorates the assassination of Gedaliah around 582 BCE. In 586 BCE, the Babylonians conquered Jerusalem, ending the independent Jewish kingdom of Judah. This tragedy that is remembered over the summer on Tisha b’Av. The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar forced the elites of the conquered land into exile, the Babylonian captivity. Others fled to Egypt. Gedaliah was then appointed governor by Nebuchadnezzar and began rebuilding, encouraging Jews who had fled to nearby lands to return. Ishmael ben Nethaniah, a figure from the deposed royal household, came with 10 men and assassinated Gedaliah at a New Year’s Feast. Gedaliah was warned of Ishmael’s plot but failed to heed it.
In the aftermath of the assassination, attempts to revive the Jewish polity ceased for decades. The Fast was instated, much later:
The Sages established a fast to commemorate Gedaliah’s death to teach “that the death of a righteous person is equal to the burning of the Temple of our Lord.”
The Fast of Gedaliah of Gedaliah is the last of four Fasts commemorating the destruction of the Temple by the Babylonians, a cycle the begins in the winter with the Fast of Tevet (commemorating the beginning of the siege) and reaches its apex in the summer with Tisha B’Av and the destruction of the Temple. Fast of Gedaliah comes later and occurs amidst the Days of Awe—the Holiest Days of the Jewish year begin.
Implications in Light of October 7
This year it hits hard. It is the day before the October 7 massacre. The political symbolism is profound. The obvious interpretation is that Gedaliah was a pragmatist who made peace with reality, while Ishmael was an extremist who saw Gedaliah as a collaborator with Babylon. It may be that Ishmael was an opportunist, seeking power for himself. There is evidence the nearby tribes egged him on.
The most obvious political and moral analysis is that Jews must not turn on one another, when a Jew kills another Jew the consequences are profound and ripple outwards. According to tradition, the destruction of the Temple was due to hatred and divisions amongst the Jewish people.
A deeper lesson is that Gedaliah was accommodating reality, whereas Nethaniah was steadfast in rejecting this accommodation. There are other points in the vast literature of the Jewish people that highlight the importance of steadfastness. Pinchas, who slew an Israelite who fornicated with a Midianite, is but one example of the latter.
Wisdom is in distinguishing which course is the right one, and when the situation has changed. I am named for Aaron, the High Priest who was known as a peacemaker. I know which way I tend.
October 7 will be added to the long list of tragic dates in Jewish history. Occurring as it does in the heart of the holiest time in the Jewish calendar it will add bitterness to a time characterized by sweetness.
The Palestinian are akin to the broken children of Israel after the Babylonians struck. They ran headlong into the rising power of Zionism, which had centuries of energy and dynamism behind it. Truly, the Palestinians never truly stood a chance. The question is what to do? Can they accommodate this new power in their midst? So far, they have not. The Hamas death cult is needed to prevent any such accommodation, to foster a nihilistic extremism that in turn also eliminates accommodationists on the Israeli side as well. This is the way of the terrorist.
Alas, Palestinian (and Arab) Gedaliahs have also faced assassination. (And so have, at times, Israeli peacemakers.)
I write as a steadfast and unapologetic Zionist, but I wonder if Israel too has always been wise in charting its course and accommodating realities? Even granting justice to Israel’s cause, the deaths of innocents and the vast trauma of war is always a tragedy. We cannot shy away from this truth.
Spiritual Sustenance
Yesterday, I fasted and contemplated. In a previous life I was a Middle East analyst, but I do not know what to say about current events, I am just saddened. Instead, I am, in the tradition of the Rabbis, exploring a question to feed my spirit.
What is the meaning of having the cycle of tragedies related to the destruction of the Temple overlap with the Days of Awe, the most deeply spiritual time of the Jewish calendar?
Rosh Hashanah is the beginning of the New Year and we celebrate the creation of the world. As we pray, we contemplate who we are and what we have done, and despite our many flaws we appeal to Hashem to grant us a good year. Over the next ten days we seek to make amends to those we have harmed so that on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, we come together to atone for them.
In the days of the Temple, the great festivals were accompanied by sacrifices. It is difficult for we moderns to grasp the significance of the sacrifices. I don’t. But in ancient times herd animals were the source of wealth and security in a time when these things were precarious. Sacrificing the most valuable thing we possessed, the thing that ultimately assured our livelihood, was profound.
In some ways, I believe that our time praying is a form of sacrifice. As a middle-class Westerner, precarity has never been a fact of my life. My treasure, the thing I squander but is most precious, is my time. I willingly surrender it to Hashem (as I did in a different way today by not eating.)
Amidst the feasting and joy of being with family and friends on Rosh Hashanah, the Fast of Gedaliah is a sobering moment that reminds us of the destruction of the Temple and the severing of our great connection with Hashem.
Judaism stands on two legs, our relationship with Hashem and our relationship with others. With the destruction of the Temple our relationship with Hashem is frayed, a shadow of what was. We must put greater emphasis on doing right in our lives, in how we treat others. When asked to teach entirety of the Torah while standing on one foot, the great sage Hillel responded:
What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation of this—go and study it!
My own Haftorah portion ends with words of Micah, preaching against an obsessive focus on sacrifice:
He has told you, O man, what is good; and what the Lord requires of you, do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your G-d.
Judaism is an effort to guide us as individuals to be decent. By focusing on the murder of a single righteous individual, the Fast of Gedaliah focuses these great decisions down to very real consequences. Misattributed to Stalin, the quote “a single death is a tragedy, a million a statistic” captures this sentiment. It aligns with how human beings understand the world—through specifics and individuals. The Fast of Gedaliah was a specific instance of a few people doing wrong to another, and a reminder to us not to repeat this evil. A single death or tragedy can ripple outwards with great consequence, we must never forget that. We must strive to do right.
Alas, today I am unable to fast. I teach my class this evening and my brains fall apart if I don’t eat.