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Rabbi Ishmael Read Lamentations on the Eve of Tisha BAv

Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi hurt one finger on the eve of Tisha B'Av, and Rabbi Ishmael turned it into a reading of communal pain held in measure by divine mercy.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. One Small Finger
  2. The World Held by Measure
  3. The Portion Each Prophet Received
  4. What the First Humans Understood About Fear

One Small Finger

It was late afternoon on the eve of the ninth of Av, the day that would become a fast, and Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi had hurt his finger. Not badly. A small injury. He mentioned it to Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei, who was sitting with him as they prepared to read through the scroll of Lamentations before the fast began.

They had gotten partway through the acrostic. The light was going. They agreed to finish it the next day. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, apparently still thinking about his finger, made an observation: even this small pain, he said, is enough to cause the whole generation to mourn for my sake.

Rabbi Ishmael did not argue with him. He agreed, and turned the agreement into something larger.

The World Held by Measure

The chapter in Vayikra Rabbah where this scene appears does not start with the finger. It starts with wind and water and the calibration of force. Job chapter 28 contains a line that the rabbis read as a cosmological claim: God set a weight for the wind and measured the waters by measure.

Wind powerful enough to blow without restriction would destroy everything it touched. Rain falling without limit would drown the earth. The world survives because force is bounded. God placed a measure on the wind where to stop and the rain where to turn. Mercy in this reading is not softness. It is the act of telling overwhelming power where its limit is.

This principle then moves from weather to skin. The laws of tzaraat, the afflictions described in Leviticus 13 that the tradition read as more than physical disease, are governed by the same logic. They arrive within limits. The body is not destroyed outright. The priest inspects, quarantines, waits. Even affliction arrives by measure.

The Portion Each Prophet Received

From weather and skin, the midrash scales further to the human soul, and specifically to prophecy. The divine spirit did not pour out entirely on any single prophet. It was measured, calibrated, distributed. Each prophet received the portion appropriate to their mission and their capacity.

Some prophets received a large portion and preached to many nations. Some received a smaller portion and addressed a single generation. None of them received everything. Not even Moses, through whom the Torah was given, received more than his measure. The spirit is too large for any individual container. The measuring is what makes it usable.

This is the principle Rabbi Ishmael was applying to Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi's finger. Even the suffering of the greatest person in the generation arrives by measure. No more than the generation can bear. No less than what is necessary to remind them of the weight of communal pain.

What the First Humans Understood About Fear

The same Vayikra Rabbah passage introduces a teaching about the first human beings and the nature of awe. When Adam and Eve first experienced fear, they were not afraid of death or pain in the ordinary sense. They were afraid of something larger: the sense of being in the presence of a greatness that made their own existence feel provisional.

Rabbi Ishmael, in the tradition named for him in this section, reads this primal fear not as a failure but as a form of correct perception. The first humans understood, at the moment of first fear, something true about the scale of what they were standing inside. The world was not their possession. They were guests in a creation whose owner was present.

This is what the section of Lamentations they were reading on the eve of Tisha B'Av was trying to teach. Jerusalem's destruction was not a refutation of the covenant. It was a recalibration. The measure of suffering was set at what was survivable. The community that came out the other side would remember what had been lost and know more clearly what the gift had been.

Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi's small finger hurt. The whole generation would mourn for him. This was not hubris. It was the same logic as the measured wind: the suffering of a great person, held within its measure, is felt by everyone connected to them, and the feeling is information. It teaches them something about the weight of what they have been given to carry.

Tisha BavSufferingLeadershipRepentanceShabbat
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From the tradition

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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Vayikra Rabbah 15:1Vayikra Rabbah

It all starts with a rather clinical verse: "A man, if he will have on the skin of his flesh a spot, or a scab, or a bright spot, and it will become a mark of leprosy on the skin of his flesh, he shall be brought to Aaron the priest, or to one of his sons the priests" (Leviticus 13:2).

What does this have to do with wind and water? The text surprisingly links this verse about skin ailments to another verse entirely, this one from the Book of Job: "To set calibration of the wind and allocate water by measure" (Job 28:25). Why? Because, according to the Rabbis, leprosy was once thought to be caused by an imbalance of water and blood within the body.

Rav Huna then takes this idea a step further. He says that on three separate occasions, wind emerged without this crucial "calibration," threatening to wreak havoc on the world. These instances occurred in the times of Job, Jonah, and Elijah. Remember the "great wind" that came from across the wilderness in the Book of Job (Job 1:19)? Or the "great wind" the Lord cast toward the sea in the story of Jonah (Jonah 1:4)? And what about the "great and powerful wind, smashing mountains" that Elijah experienced on Mount Horeb (I (Kings 19:1)1)?

Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Shalom even suggests it was the same wind appearing in each of these stories! He explains that the wind in Job's time was specific to "that house" – only destroying the house of Job’s eldest son. The one in Jonah’s time targeted "that ship." And the wind that Elijah encountered was specifically for "that action" – God's revelation to Elijah. But of all three, the encounter of Elijah was considered the most powerful, since it smashed mountains and shattered stones, impacting the entire world.

But what about after the time of the prophet Elijah? Rabbi Tanhum ben Rabbi Hiyya offers a fascinating thought: The messianic king will arrive only after all the souls God intended to create are finished. These souls, he says, are listed in the Book of Adam, the first man. As it says in (Genesis 5:1), “This is the book of the descendants of Adam.”

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Rabbi Hanina adds that when wind emerges from God, He "breaks it on the mountains, weakens it on the hills," and commands it not to harm His creations. This is based on the verse in Isaiah: "For the wind will submit before Me and it is I who crafted their souls" (Isaiah 57:16); ‘For the sake of the souls that I crafted.’ This shows God’s constant care and intervention to protect the world.

The passage then returns to the idea of measure. Rabbi Yudan bar Rabbi Shimon says that even something as seemingly free-flowing as water is given only "by measure." Rain, a blessing, is carefully dispensed to avoid causing harm. He draws a parallel between the word yegara ("He withholds") in (Job 36:27) and venigra ("it shall be deducted") in (Leviticus 27:18), emphasizing this idea of divine control and balance.

So, what does it all mean? This passage from Vayikra Rabbah isn’t just about skin diseases, wind, or rain. It’s about balance, divine control, and the interconnectedness of everything in creation. It suggests that even seemingly chaotic forces like the wind are ultimately governed by a higher power, ensuring the well-being of the world and its inhabitants. It reminds us that even in the midst of chaos, there is a divine plan unfolding, one carefully measured drop at a time.

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Vayikra Rabbah 15:2Vayikra Rabbah

In Vayikra Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Leviticus, we find this very idea explored. It all starts with the seemingly simple phrase, "to set calibration of the wind [laruaḥ]." But as is often the case in Jewish tradition, there's a deeper current flowing beneath the surface.

Rabbi Aḥa suggests this calibration applies even to the ruaḥ, the Divine Spirit, that rests upon the prophets. It's not a free-for-all of inspiration, but something carefully measured. Some prophets, he says, prophesy enough for one book, others for two.

Rabbi Simon takes it a step further. He points to Be’eri, suggesting that Be’eri prophesied on two specific matters. However, these weren't substantial enough to warrant their own separate book, and so they were incorporated into the Book of Isaiah. Specifically, Rabbi Simon refers to (Isaiah 8:19) (“If they will say to you: Seek the mediums and the oracles”) and its counterpart, (Isaiah 8:20). It's a fascinating glimpse into the editorial process, if you will, of prophetic literature.

The text continues, shifting from wind to water: “And allocate water by measure.” Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Shmuel then expands this concept, arguing that even the matters of Torah given from above were given only by measure. Bible, Mishna, Talmud, halakhot (Jewish laws), and aggadot (stories and legends). Each has its place, its own specific weight and purpose. Not everyone, according to this passage, merits understanding or mastering all of them. Some excel at Bible, others at Mishna, others at Talmud, and still others are drawn to the imaginative world of aggada. And then, there are the rare individuals who manage to explore them all.

But the calibration doesn't stop with prophecy or Torah study. The text goes on to say that even a person's spirit is measured. We often describe people as being "broad of spirit" or "narrow of spirit." In extreme cases, a "spirit of pettiness" can take root, according to this understanding.

And here's where it gets really interesting. "A person is balanced," the verse states, "half of him water and half of him blood." When we are in balance, when we merit that balance, neither the water nor the blood dominates. But when we sin, that balance is disrupted. Sometimes, the water becomes greater than the blood, leading to dropsy (edema, or swelling). Other times, the blood becomes greater, leading to leprosy. And the text connects this back to the word "adam" – Hebrew for "man" – linking it to "dam," which means blood.

What does all this mean? It suggests a universe, and even a human being, governed by a delicate balance. A balance that requires careful calibration, and that can be thrown off by our choices and actions. It's a powerful reminder that everything, from the Divine Spirit to our own physical bodies, is interconnected and subject to a kind of cosmic accounting. The question then becomes: how do we strive for balance in our lives, knowing that our actions have such profound consequences?

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Vayikra Rabbah 15:3Vayikra Rabbah

Consider the opening of Vayikra (Leviticus), which discusses skin ailments. Vayikra Rabbah, a Midrashic (rabbinic interpretive commentary) collection expounding on Leviticus, dives deep into the verse "A man, if he will have on the skin of his flesh…" (Leviticus 13:2). But instead of jumping straight into medical diagnosis, it takes a detour, connecting this verse to a surprising source: the Book of Job.

"Who cleaved a channel for the torrent [shetef]?" (Job 38:25), the verse asks. What does a torrential downpour have to do with skin conditions? Well, the Midrash points out that in some places, hair is also called shitfa. Intriguing. It then shares a story to illustrate a powerful idea about divine provision.

There was once a scholar sitting and teaching, explaining that God provides each individual hair with its own source of nourishment, its own follicle. No hair depends on another for its sustenance. His wife overheard him and wisely suggested, "Why go out and seek your own livelihood then? Stay here, and your Creator will sustain you!" He listened to her, stayed put, and, God provided for him. A beautiful lesson in trusting in divine providence.

The connection to Job doesn’t end there. The verse continues, "Or a path for the lightning of thunder" (Job 38:25). The Midrash explains that even something as powerful as thunder has a designated path crafted by God. Why? To prevent it from going forth and destroying the entire world! God's meticulous care extends to even the most forceful elements of nature, ensuring balance and preventing chaos.

Rabbi Avin offers another interpretation of this verse, comparing it to a vegetable garden nourished by a spring. As long as the spring flows, the vegetables thrive and are dark and vibrant. But if the spring dries up, the vegetables pale and wither. This becomes an analogy for spiritual merit. If a person merits, "black hair grew in it; the scall healed, it is pure" (Leviticus 13:37), signifying renewal and health. But if not, "the hair in the mark turned white" (Leviticus 13:3), indicating a decline.

And finally, Vayikra Rabbah circles back to the original verse, "A man [adam], if he will have…" drawing a connection between adam (man) and dam (blood). The Midrash suggests that an excess of blood, brought on by sin, can lead to skin ailments. A stark reminder that our actions have consequences, not just spiritually, but perhaps even physically.

So, what do we take away from this seemingly obscure passage? It's a multi-layered teaching. It speaks of trusting in God's provision, recognizing the divine order in the universe, understanding the connection between our spiritual state and our physical well-being, and maybe even a little bit about hair! It reminds us that even in the minutiae of ritual law, profound truths about life, faith, and our relationship with the divine can be found. Who knew a verse about skin conditions could hold so much wisdom?

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Vayikra Rabbah 15:4Vayikra Rabbah

The ancient rabbis grappled with these questions too, and sometimes their answers can surprise us. to a passage from Vayikra Rabbah (Leviticus Rabbah), a fascinating collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Leviticus. In chapter 15, the text opens with a rather stark statement connected to the verse, "a man, if he will have on the skin of his flesh" (Leviticus 13:2) which begins the laws of leprosy. The passage immediately connects this to (Proverbs 19:29): “Punishments are prepared for cynics.”

What does leprosy have to do with cynicism? The midrash (rabbinic interpretation) uses an analogy to explain. Imagine someone riding a donkey. Sometimes the donkey behaves, sometimes it doesn't. You might strike it when it misbehaves, but sometimes, inexplicably, you strike it even when it's being good. According to this interpretation, that's cynicism - punishment without cause. However, here, it is for the cynics that punishments and blows are prepared.

The passage continues with a story of a noblewoman who enters the king’s palace. She sees whips hanging and becomes afraid. The king reassures her, saying, "Fear not, those are for the slaves and maidservants, but you will eat, drink, and rejoice." When Israel heard the portion of leprosy, they were afraid, too. Moses, in this interpretation, says to them: "Fear not, these are for the nations of the world, but you will eat, drink, and rejoice," quoting (Psalms 32:10): “There are many pains for the wicked, but one trusting in the Lord, kindness surrounds him.”

So, the initial fear associated with disease is transformed into a message of reassurance. It's a reminder that divine justice, while sometimes seemingly harsh, is ultimately tempered with kindness for those who trust in God.

Now, the narrative shifts to a poignant scene involving Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, a central figure in the compilation of the Mishnah (the foundation of rabbinic law), and Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei. They are studying the Book of Lamentations on the eve of Tisha B'Av, the ninth day of the month of Av, a day of mourning commemorating the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. This particular year it coincided with Shabbat (the Sabbath).

Lamentations, traditionally read on Tisha B'Av, is a series of poems lamenting the destruction of Jerusalem. The chapters are arranged in alphabetical acrostics. The rabbis didn’t complete one alphabetical acrostic before nightfall. They planned to finish the next day, but Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi stumbled, injuring his small finger. He then said about himself: “There are many pains for the wicked.”

Rabbi Yishmael, however, offers a different interpretation. He suggests that Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi’s suffering wasn't necessarily a result of his own sins, but rather a consequence of the sins of the entire generation. He references (Lamentations 4:20): “The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was captured in their traps,” implying that the leader of the generation can suffer for the sins of the people.

This is a powerful idea, isn't it? The leader bears the weight of the community, even to the point of experiencing their collective pain. It's a reminder of the interconnectedness of our lives and the responsibility we have for one another.

The passage then details how Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi treated his wound, providing insights into Jewish law (halakha) regarding the observance of Shabbat. Rabbi Yishmael observed three things about the way Rabbi Yehuda treated his wound: that a sponge does not absorb, but rather, it protects the wound, that one may tie over it a reed from the house because it is prepared and one may read the sacred Writings only from the afternoon onward. From these observations, Rabbi Yishmael deduced various rules about what is and isn’t permissible on Shabbat. For example, the passage explains that one may use a reed that was already in the house (and therefore not muktze – set aside), but one may only read the sacred writings from the afternoon onward, as it was already late in the afternoon.

The passage concludes with a final thought, quoting Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Tanhum of Basra in the name of Rabbi Yirmeya: "Even one who was wicked but repented, the Holy One blessed be He accepts him, as it is stated: “But one trusting in the Lord, kindness surrounds him” (Psalms 32:10)."

So, what can we take away from this seemingly disparate collection of stories and interpretations? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the face of suffering, there is always hope for redemption. That even when we feel like we're being punished unfairly, there is kindness and compassion available to us. And that even the most righteous among us are not immune to the pain and suffering of the world. It emphasizes the importance of trust, repentance, and the enduring power of kindness.

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Eikhah Rabbah 4:23Eikhah Rabbah

“The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was captured in their traps; of whom we said: In his shade we will live among the nations” (Lamentations 4:20).“The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord,” Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] and Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei were sitting and studying the scrolls of Lamentations on Shabbat, the day before the ninth of Av, toward nightfall. They left one alphabetical acrostic. They said: We will go out57They went to eat the third meal on Shabbat before the fast. and finish it tomorrow. When Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] ascended to his house, he stumbled and hurt his finger. He said in his regard: “There are many maladies for the wicked” (Psalms 32:10). Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei said to him: Had we not been engaged in this matter, I would have said this; now, all the more so: “The breath of our nostrils…”58Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi had implied that his suffering was due to his own sins. Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei interpreted the verse in Lamentations (4:20) they had just studied as indicating that the leader of the generation can suffer due to the sins of the people of the generation, as “their traps [beshḥitotam]” can be translated as “due to their corruption,” referring to Israel. Thus, he said that Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi had been injured due to the sins of the generation.When Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] entered his house, he placed a dry sponge on his wound and tied a reed over it on the outside. Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei said: We learned three matters from him: The sponge does not heal, but rather, it protects the wound;59If it would heal it would be forbidden to place it on the wound on Shabbat, due to the rabbinic prohibition of applying medicine on Shabbat. a reed in the house is prepared;60It is not muktze. and one may read the sacred Writings only from the afternoon onward,61The Rabbis prohibited reading from the books of Writings on Shabbat (see Mishna Shabbat 16:1) so that people would not become engrossed in reading them and fail to attend the public lecture that the Sages would conduct on Shabbat. This prohibition expired in the afternoon, by which time the lecture would be finished. This is proven from the fact that Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi did not have enough time in the afternoon to finish studying Lamentations. however one may study its midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) and expound the verses. If it was necessary to check and read the verse, one may bring it and read.Shmuel said: Any shard of earthenware,62A shard that broke from a vessel before Shabbat is not muktze because it may be used to cover another small vessel. Rabbi Ze’eira said in the name of Rabbi Shmuel: The stopper of a barrel and a shard, it is permitted to handle them on Shabbat. If one cast them into the garbage dump, it is prohibited to handle them on Shabbat.“But one who trusts in the Lord, kindness envelops him” (Psalms 32:10). Rabbi Elazar of Basra and Rabbi Tanḥum in the name of Rabbi Aḥa said: Even one who is wicked but he repented, the Holy One blessed be He accepts him, as it is stated: “But one who trusts in the Lord, kindness envelops him.”

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