This coming Sunday, we will observe the saddest and most traumatic day on our calendar: Tisha B’av (the 9th of the Hebrew month of Av). It is on this day that we remember the tragedies and catastrophes which have befallen our people over the last few thousand years. But the darkness and sadness of this day can be traced to one, singular episode: the Sin of the Spies. Despite the assurances of God and Moshe we felt compelled to scout out the Land of Israel. The spies came back, delivered their disastrous report, telling the nation that the land was simply unconquerable. These demoralizing words sent the people into a downward spiral. The nation cried, and it is here that the Talmud records a dramatic statement: “God said, ‘You have cried unnecessary tears, I will cause you to cry for many generations to come.” (Taanis 31) When did this report and Divine response occur? On the 9th of Av. It is the sin of the spies that created the tragic foundation for this difficult day. A foundation upon which tragedy has been layered over the last two thousand years.
But did the punishment fit the crime? We as a nation certainly were ungrateful and lacked faith. But to condemn every Jew (over the age of 20) to death in the desert; to mark this day for ongoing tragedy, seems a bit disproportionate. Furthermore, the people tried to do teshuva (repent). The very next morning the Torah relates that the people arose early in the morning and ascended to the mountaintop, saying, “’We are ready to go up to the place of which the Lord spoke, for we have sinned.’ Moses said, ‘Why do you transgress the word of the Lord? It will not succeed. Do not go up, for the Lord is not among you, [so that] you will not be beaten by your enemies (Bamidbar 14:39-41).’” They acknowledged their mistake and tried to right the wrong, yet the punishment was still severe and swift. How are we to understand the nature of their mistake and the Divine reaction?
The Dubno Maggid (Rabbi Yaakov Kranz, 1740-1804) explains this dynamic with a mashal (parable). There was a fine young man who was known to be a Torah scholar with sterling middos (character traits) who was engaged to marry a young woman from a very wealthy family. One day, as the fathers were sitting down to discuss the financial arrangements for the upcoming wedding, the father of the bride told the father of the groom, “I am so happy our children are getting married, we will be happy to pay for the wedding. My only request is that you take care of outfitting your son for the wedding. But it is important that you buy him a suit of the finest materials.” To which the father of the groom responded, “My dear friend, I, too, share your excitement for the upcoming wedding of our children and I have much appreciation for your generosity. I am a man of virtually no means and while I can certainly afford a basic wardrobe for my son, I can’t purchase the type of clothing you are suggesting.” “Well if you can’t provide this one small part, then the wedding is off!” replied the father of the bride. And so, the beautiful match ended. A few months went by and the father of the bride regretted his hasty decision. The groom was such a fine young man with such refined character, how could he justify breaking off the nuptials over a suit. He contacted the father of the groom and voiced his desire to have their children marry. “My dear friend,” replied the father of the groom, “my son is a very special young man who has much potential. Yet, you were willing to cast him aside because of a suit. Any family that would treat my son this way doesn’t truly appreciate who my son is. I no longer wish for my son to be a part of your family.”
