Based on shiurim given by Rav Yisrael Altusky shlita, Yeshiva Torah Ore, Yerushalayim
What should be our focus during the hot summer months, especially during bein ha’metzarim—the Three Weeks? This time of year, which coincides with camp and “summer fun,” is rarely anticipated with excitement. It begins with the fast of Shiva Asar b’Tamuz, commemorating the breaching of the walls of Yerushalayim, and culminates with Tishah b’Av, the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash. The minhagim and restrictions observed during this period—particularly as Av begins—are far from enjoyable. (Unless, of course, you’re looking forward to all-dairy meals. Just avoid the siyum!)
Interestingly, when we look in the Shulchan Aruch for the halachos of the Three Weeks, we find very little. The first ruling is: Mishenichnas Av, mema’atim b’simchah—when Av begins, we reduce joy. The Rema adds that we don’t get married from the 17th of Tamuz. Most of the detailed halachos focus on the week of Tishah b’Av (shavua she’chal bo) or from Rosh Chodesh Av onward. The bulk of our practices are minhagim—customs that Klal Yisrael accepted upon themselves and which intensify during the Nine Days.
There’s a key difference between halachos and minhagim: Halachah is what the Torah or Chazal mandated; minhagim are what the people voluntarily took on. This may explain why the laws of bein ha’metzarim seem so limited—it’s largely rooted in minhag, not direct Torah or rabbinic command. But why is that?
Let’s look at the date itself—the 17th of Tamuz. The Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chaim 549) states that this was the day the Romans breached the walls of Yerushalayim during the destruction of the Second Beis HaMikdash. However, in Sefer Yirmiyahu, it says the city was breached on the 9th of Tamuz during the destruction of the First Beis HaMikdash. So why do we fast on the 17th?
The Mishnah Berurah explains that we are still in exile from the events of the Second Temple period, and a second fast would be too burdensome. The Be’er Heitev cites a Yerushalmi (Taanis 4:5) that says the pasuk in Navi may contain a “mistake.” Due to the chaos and trauma, people may have misremembered the date—and yet this “mistake” is recorded for eternity.
Can this truly be? Do we ever fix a fast day based on a known error?
The Abarbanel explains that the book of Yirmiyahu is full of grammatical flaws, as is Eichah. These are not accidents, but expressions of Divine grief. Hashem was “too broken” to speak eloquently. That’s why He chose Yirmiyahu—young, simple, from the small town of Anasos—to be the Navi of the Churban. His unsophisticated language reflected a raw, painful, heartfelt hesped.
Here’s a poignant story told by Rav Chaim Pinchas Scheinberg zt”l that brings this home: A young mother passed away, and at the levayah, her husband, a promising talmid chacham, delivered an eloquent, beautifully composed hesped. Not long afterward, he asked his late wife’s father if he could marry her younger sister—a common halachic preference for the children’s sake. But the father-in-law refused. Why? Because the hesped had been too perfect. If he had truly been broken, he would have spoken with tears, not with polish. The fluency, the clarity—it betrayed a lack of emotional depth.
And that’s the point. Nearly 2,000 years into this galus, our sense of loss for the Churban has dulled. We don’t feel the pain the way our ancestors did. We often blame external factors for our suffering without realizing that galus is the root of all our struggles. This is why Chazal didn’t impose extensive mourning halachos. When people no longer feel, you can’t legislate emotion.
But minhagim are different. They were accepted by earlier generations who did feel that pain. They refused to eat meat during the Three Weeks not because they had to, but because they had no appetite for joy. Even today, you can find Jews who still live with that mindset. When we observe these minhagim, we are connecting to the deep emotions that fueled their creation. That gives them powerful meaning.
And bein ha’metzarim won’t always be a time of mourning.
As we say in selichos, one day the fast of Shiva Asar b’Tamuz will become a Yom Tov.
The Yalkut Shimoni (Pinchas 29) says that Hashem wanted every summer month to have a Yom Tov. Nisan has Pesach, Iyar has Pesach Sheini, Sivan has Shavuos. Tamuz was also supposed to have one, but the sin of the Golden Calf ruined it. Av and Elul became months of tragedy and teshuvah. To make up for the loss, Tishrei was given Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkos, and Shemini Atzeres.
The message is clear: these days were meant for joy. The tragedy of the Churban interrupted that joy, but it won’t be forever.
Chazal teach that whoever mourns the Churban will merit to rejoice in its rebuilding. With proper perspective, we can see Hashem’s love even in the Churban and galus. Our observance of the Three Weeks isn’t just mourning—it’s a way to show Hashem that we haven’t forgotten, and that we’re ready to rejoice when the time comes.
May that day arrive soon, with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days.
R’ Dovi Chaitovsky and his family are zocheh to live in Eretz Yisrael. He has the great z’chus to learn and teach Torah in Yerushalayim Ir HaKodesh.
