The History of Tish B’Av: Lamentation, Longing, and Messianic Hope
- MDI

- Jul 28
- 4 min read
From Mourning to Redemption: Tracing the Theological and Historical Tapestry of the Ninth of Av

Tish B’Av, the Ninth of Av, is the darkest day on the Jewish calendar—a day saturated with loss, lament, and yearning that echoes through centuries of Jewish history. Yet, paradoxically, it is also laced with the flickering promise of consolation and ultimate redemption. To understand Tish B’Av is to journey through the ruins of Jerusalem, to sit amid the ashes of exile, and to peer prophetically into an age of Messianic restoration.
Origins of Tish B’Av: A Legacy of Calamity
The roots of Tish B’Av are ancient, tied inexorably to the destruction of both the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem—events that symbolize the shattering of national and spiritual life for the Jewish people. According to rabbinic tradition, the seeds for this day of mourning were sown even earlier, during the wilderness wanderings after the Exodus from Egypt. When the spies returned from Canaan with tales that demoralized the people, causing Israel to weep needlessly, God is said to have declared, “You cried for nothing tonight; I will establish this night as a time of weeping for generations.”
Thus, Tish B’Av was marked as a day of tragic destiny.
The First Temple, built by Solomon and the spiritual heartbeat of the Israelite nation, was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE. Centuries later, the Second Temple—rebuilt after the Babylonian exile and standing at the time of Jesus—met its end at the hands of the Romans in 70 CE. Both destructions are believed to have occurred on the Ninth of Av, a convergence that transformed a single day into a symbol of compounded sorrow.
But the misfortunes associated with Tish B’Av did not end there. Throughout Jewish history, this day has been marked by calamities, including the expulsion of Jews from England in 1290 and Spain in 1492, as well as tragedies in the modern era. Tish B’Av has become a vessel for collective grief, a day when historical wounds are reopened and remembered.
Rituals and Liturgy: Embodying Grief
On Tish B’Av, the rituals enacted are as evocative as the history they commemorate. The day is observed with fasting, abstinence from pleasurable activities, and the reading of Eicha (the Book of Lamentations), a poetic dirge mourning the destruction of Jerusalem.
Synagogues are dimmed, congregants sit on the floor or low stools, and the melodies of kinnot (elegiac poems) fill the air with yearning and despair.
These rituals are not merely acts of remembrance; they are deeply participatory, inviting each generation to share in the pain of the past. By depriving the body and humbling the spirit, Tish B’Av cultivates empathy with ancestors who witnessed devastation and exile. The mourning is communal, yet intensely personal.
Layers of Meaning: The Theology of Suffering and Exile
Tish B’Av is not just a memorial to physical destruction. It is a meditation on the deeper theological consequences of exile—the severance of the people from their land, their Temple, and, it seems, from God’s manifest presence. The day invites reflection on sin and its consequences, as the rabbis associate the Temple’s destruction with baseless hatred and spiritual decline.
Yet embedded within the sorrow is the hope of eventual restoration. The very act of mourning, say the sages, is itself a catalyst for redemption. In the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “To be a Jew is to know that history is not a matter of blind fate, but of moral responsibility; that what we do affects what happens; and that God is present in our history.”
Messianic Implications: Yearning for Redemption
The Messianic undertones of Tish B’Av are impossible to ignore. From the depths of devastation springs the hope of deliverance. This paradox—sorrow and salvation intertwined—has fueled Jewish resilience for generations.
In Messianic Jewish thought, Tish B’Av takes on even deeper resonance. Here, the fast does not merely look back; it points forward to a definitive redemption embodied in Yeshua (Jesus) as Messiah. For Messianic Jews, the destruction of the Temple underscores the need for a new kind of atonement—one not bound to a physical edifice, but realized in the person of the Messiah.
The Apostle Paul, himself a Jew of the Second Temple period, wrote that the Temple rituals were a “shadow of what was to come,” and that fulfillment is found in the Messiah (Colossians 2:17). The tearing of the Temple veil at the crucifixion, as described in the Gospels, is interpreted as the opening of direct access to God—a divine response to the very loss commemorated on Tish B’Av.
This perspective does not diminish the sorrow of loss, but rather reinterprets it through the lens of hope. The fast becomes a longing not only for the rebuilding of a physical Temple, but for the ultimate reconciliation of God and humanity, the healing of exile, and the coming of the Messianic age.
Modern Reflections: Tish B’Av in a Fractured World
Today, Tish B’Av remains a powerful liturgical moment for Jews around the world. In a world marred by conflict and displacement, the themes of exile, loss, and longing remain painfully relevant. Yet, as the day draws to a close, the liturgy subtly shifts toward hope; traditional mourners remove their shoes, and comfort is offered through the words of the prophets.
Messianic communities observe Tish B’Av as both a solemn fast and a declaration of faith in God’s ultimate plan of redemption. The day challenges all who mark it to hold sorrow and hope in creative tension—to mourn what has been lost, yet to trust in what will be restored.
Conclusion: The Dawn Beyond the Darkness
Tish B’Av is more than the sum of its tragedies. It is a day that tells the story of a people who refuse to let despair have the last word. Through ritual, memory, and the audacious hope of Messianic promise, the Ninth of Av transforms mourning into expectation. In its ashes, seeds of redemption are planted—waiting, through the long night of exile, for the dawn of restoration.
May we remember not only the weight of history, but also the light which even now flickers on the horizon—a light that, according to the Messianic vision of Tish B’Av, will one day grow into the brilliance of a healed and holy world.
Bo, Yeshua bo – Come Yeshua come.





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