The month of Av, on the 9th of which both Temples were destroyed, is considered the saddest month of the Jewish year. Many are therefore surprised to learn that at its very heart, when the moon is full, stands a day defined as one of the best days of the year: the Fifteenth of Av, or as it’s known in Hebrew, Tu B’Av.
The source of this tradition is found in the Mishnah, at the end of Tractate Ta’anit. The Mishnah describes an ancient and marvelous tradition of courtship and matchmaking that was practiced in the Land of Israel. The description goes like this:
There were no better days for the people of Israel than the Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur, for on these days, the daughters of Jerusalem would go out dressed in white borrowed garments so as not to shame those who had none... and dance in the vineyards. And what would they say? “Young man, lift up your eyes and see what you choose for yourself. Do not set your eyes on beauty, set your eyes on the family. ‘Grace is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised.’”
Simply put, the Mishnah describes a sort of ancient Jewish “singles mixer,” during which the daughters of Jerusalem would go out to the vineyards dressed in white garments and would dance with the expectation that young men would seek to make a shidduch, a match, with them. Now, please note the two days on which this ceremony took place: the Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement). Mentioning these two days in the same breath is surprising, to say the least. Yom Kippur, a day of fasting, sorrow, and prayers, was a day of joyful matchmaking?! The Fifteenth of Av, a day that hardly anyone has heard of and which is not mentioned even once in the Pentateuch, is equated with the holiest day of the year?!
The two days of dancing and matchmaking in the vineyards constitute a very peculiar pair. What secret do they hide?
A Match Made in Heaven, A Match Made on Earth
Let’s start with the very fact that there were two matchmaking days. If two different days were designated for matchmaking, we can assume they express two different modes of matchmaking, or alternatively two types of matches. Let’s consider what we know about each of these days and try to discern the type of matchmaking that each represents.
We start with Yom Kippur, about which we know more. It is said about Yom Kippur that in it we are emulating the “ministering angels.” We abstain from eating and drinking, stand all day in prayer, and try to reach the innermost root of our soul.
What type of matchmaking does such a day symbolize? Simply put, it is a form of spiritual matchmaking, a divinely governed matching of twin souls that share a common spiritual root, and then unite to form one soul. According to the concept of heavenly matchmaking, each person has one special partner destined for them, and when they meet this person, it is truly a “match made in heaven,” as if the angels themselves had arranged it.
If the matchmakings of Yom Kippur are spiritual in nature, those of the Fifteenth of Av must belong to the opposite pole. In contrast to a spiritual match, there is a simpler and more familiar type of matchmaking, made according to the inclinations of the heart and the natural emotion of love. Such matches are earthly matches that sprout from below, out of the natural flow of life and the efforts of flesh-and-blood people.
An affirmation that this type of matchmaking is associated with the Fifteenth day of Av is found in one of the reasons the Talmud provides for making this day a festive day. The Talmud explains that in the generations that initially settled the Land of Israel after the Exodus from Egypt, it was on this date that “the tribes were permitted to intermarry.” This refers to the cancelling of the Torah’s requirement (that was originally limited) that men and women would marry only within their tribe. Permission was granted to marry according to the heart’s desire, without tribal restrictions.
Interestingly, these two approaches are embodied in two contrasting statements by the sages about matchmaking. On one hand, the sages say that “forty days before the formation of a child, a heavenly voice issues forth and says, ‘the daughter of so-and-so to so-and-so.’” According to this saying, matchmakings are heavenly, and tied to the root of the couple’s souls even before they were formed in their mother’s womb.
On the other hand, the sages also state that “a man is only matched with a woman according to his deeds.” According to this saying, matchmaking depends on how we conduct ourselves here on earth during our lives. Our match will correspond to the choices we make in shaping our lives. The first statement, of course, reflects the matchmaking of Yom Kippur, and the second those made on the Fifteenth of Av.
Finding Favor, Bearing Favor
Another characteristic of the two types of matchmaking is encapsulated in the pair of Hebrew phrases metzi’at chen (finding favor), and nessi’at chen (bearing favor).
On the surface, these two expressions seem synonymous. Both refer to “liking” something or someone, to appreciating their unique beauty. However, since their literal meanings are different, they must refer to two different types of affinity. What could these types be?
Metzi’ah, “finding,” implies the discovery of something that in some way already belongs to us, or that immediately becomes ours. The phrase “finding favor” therefore means discovering our own favor/beauty within another. When someone is motzeh chen, finds favor in our eyes, it means a similarity exists between us inherently. An aspect of our soul root is reflected in them and that reminds us of ourselves.
Nessi’ah, “bearing,” on the other hand, suggests the ability to bear or endure something that is inherently different from us, something we do not necessarily like at first glance (as in the expression nessi’at hafachim, “bearing opposites”). “Bearing favor” is thus the love of another despite, or perhaps in virtue of, their being different from us. When someone is nosseh chen, bears favor in our eyes, it means we love them not because we find a likeness to ourselves in them, but because of their own special characteristics.
It is easy to see how these two phrases correspond to the two days of matchmaking described above:
The matchmaking of Yom Kippur typifies “finding favor.” In heavenly matches, the favor each party recognizes in the other is an aspect from their own soul’s root. It can be said that the forgiveness for all transgressions between people practiced on this day allows us to reveal the similarities between us and fellow humans, and thus to find the shared soul roots.
The matchmaking of the Fifteenth of Av typifies “bearing favor.” When our starting point is the earthly realm, the couple experience themselves as two separate individuals. Therefore, their relationship involves bearing and enduring opposing character traits. The permission to intermarry among the tribes on the Fifteenth of Av represents openness to connect with people that are different from us.
It is worth noting in this context that in the Talmudic segment that distinguishes between the two types of matches the sages add regarding the latter, earthly type, the well-known saying “and matching them is as difficult as splitting the Red Sea.” Why does this expression specifically appear in the context of the earthly type of match, that of bearing favor? Because when the couple perceive themselves to be two separate and opposite people, merging their souls into one is as difficult as splitting one thing into two (and perhaps in such a match each side must indeed “split” a bit: they must part with their self-image as “singles” in order to share their lives with someone else).
Holy and Profane
The Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur are thus a pair of connected yet different days, embodying two complementary aspects of matchmaking. Yet, over the generations, these two days gradually lost their common denominator, and with it, the tradition of dancing in the vineyards. Today they are almost opposites in nature: Yom Kippur, which from the start was the most solemn day of the year (“and you shall afflict your souls” etc.), lost at some stage all elements of joy, dancing, and matchmaking; and the Fifteenth of Av, although it remains, faintly, a day associated with matchmaking, lost its centrality and its sanctity. Indeed, perhaps due to its neglect by Jewish tradition, this day was embraced in recent generations specifically by the non-religious public and was crowned as the “Festival of Love”, a day of secular dating which seems to have little to do with marriage and commitment.
In fact, it can be argued that in our generation, these two days, more than anything else, embody the split in our people, between the camps of the “sacred” and the “secular”: Yom Kippur, marked by praying and fasting, has become a symbol of religiosity that looks beyond this world; and the Fifteenth of Av, in being crowned the “Festival of Love” in the modern sense of the term, has become a symbol of secularism that strives for individualism and freedom.
What about the fact that on Yom Kippur even in the most secular cities of Israel driving is not practiced, and that the Orthodox community marks the Fifteenth of Av as a preferred day for weddings? These elements symbolize the mutual connection that still remains as a glowing ember between the camps.
If we recall the description of the vineyard dances of the two days of matchmaking, it seems that each of these camps takes one of its elements and neglects the other. The secular camp adopts the joy, the dances, and the human encounter, but ignores the clear commitment to family values; while the religious camp remains faithful to the values of commitment and family, but to a large extent has lost the ability to naturally intermingle, to the point where an event involving girls dancing in vineyards before boys is simply unthinkable in a religious context today.
Indeed, we can see that the two conceptions of matchmaking that we detailed above characterize, generally, these two communities.
In the Orthodox model, matchmaking aims to find the highest spiritual compatibility, while the element of choice and attraction of the heart are relatively minor—as in the matchmaking of Yom Kippur. In some Ultra-Orthodox circles, the matches are organized by the parents, and the couple meet knowing that a great deal of effort has been made to find them a suitable partner. Additionally, this matchmaking model holds that there is no need for a lengthy period of acquaintance or the building of an emotional connection prior to marriage. Rather, people must focus on finding their right spiritual match, and trust that after the wedding, love will grow in due time.
The modern secular model, on the other hand, is one of matchmaking that develops from below, through a natural acquaintance and the knitting of an emotional connection with each other—as in the matchmaking of the Fifteenth of Av. This approach does not hold that parents need to have a part in the matchmaking (or even, if it comes to that, to agree to it). According to this approach, the match depends mainly on the young couple themselves and their choices, without a guarantee from the heavens that they are correct. At its best, such a match truly stems from the heart, from deep and stable emotions that prove themselves over time; in less favorable cases, it stems from the heart’s exterior—from fleeting emotions, largely tainted by physical desires.
A good illustration of these two conceptions can be found in the two Hebrew phrases commonly used on wedding invitations by these two respective communities. In the secular world, the invitation usually says that the groom marries his bechirat libo (the “choice of his heart”). This version emphasizes the autonomous choice of the couple, and stresses that it is a choice of the heart, not of the intellect. In the Ultra-Orthodox community, on the other hand, it is more common for the wedding invitation to state that the groom marries his bat gilo, his “kindred spirit,” i.e. someone who shares his soul root. This version emphasizes the belief in a predestined heavenly match, made manifest in the earthly wedding.
Good Days for Israel
The Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur thus embody two types of matchmaking, each representing polar worldviews within the Jewish people. But why must these two worlds be so disconnected from each other? The statement that “there were no better days for Israel than the Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur,” which links these two days together, contains a vision of unity between these two conceptions of marriage, since both are perceived together as “good for Israel.” Somehow, over the course of our long exile, these two days of matchmaking, and all they represent, have “divorced” each other. Hasn’t the time come to remarry them?
A basic Kabbalistic principle states that, to connect a pair of opposites, something called “inter-inclusion” (hitkalelut) must take place between them: each side needs to incorporate an aspect of the other. Inter-inclusion saves both sides from isolation and disconnection, allowing them to appreciate each other’s value and to connect with one another. If we manage to create inter-inclusion between the two concepts of matchmaking—by introducing an aspect of the Fifteenth of Av into Yom Kippur and an aspect of Yom Kippur into the Fifteenth of Av—perhaps we will find a key to a renewed meeting of these two worlds.
Incorporating the aspect of the Fifteenth of Av into Yom Kippur means introducing an element of “choice of the heart” into the Orthodox “kindred spirit” matchmaking model. A decision to marry that does not take the emotions of the young couple into consideration, but forces itself upon the heart, can harm it. In fact, according to Jewish law, this inter-inclusion already exists, as shown by the prohibition against betrothing a woman without seeing her first (as reflected in the actions of the dancing maidens during the matchmaking days: “Young man, lift up your eyes and see what you choose for yourself”). This development is found in the Chasidic concept of “attraction of the heart” which the Chasidic masters explain must exist between the couple before marriage.
Now, what about incorporating the aspect of Yom Kippur into the Fifteenth of Av? This means introducing an element of “kindred spirit” into the secular matchmaking model of “choice of heart.” The concept of love as something unplanned that simply “happens” is charming in its innocence, but it is one-sided and unbalanced. Moreover, an exclusive emphasis on the element of choice in a relationship, devoid of the notion that marriage also involves Divine Providence or predestination, turns the marriage into something that is liable to be undone at any moment by a different choice. We are all aware of the high percentage of couples who began their journey with a burst of passion, but who find themselves falling apart after a few years, leaving two wounded and pained individuals, and often children whose lives are permanently disrupted. Much of this pain and sorrow can be avoided if some elements from the Ultra-Orthodox matchmaking model, as well as the belief that a match is also from heaven, were incorporated into the partner choosing process.
The inter-inclusion of “choice of heart” and “kindred spirit” essentially means that both elements exist in every match. In every couple, there is an aspect of earthly matchmaking and of heavenly matchmaking, of forcefully splitting the Red Sea and of hearing the heavenly voice announcing that this match was preordained, of bearing the favor of the different and of finding the favor of the similar. Indeed, in some circles the custom has already taken root of writing in wedding invitations both im bechirat libo, “with his choice of heart,” and im bat gilo, “with the choice of his heart,” side by side.
Reviving the Dance
The renewal of the union between the Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur is not limited to the inter-inclusion of the matchmaking concepts they represent. The matchmaking concept of each day is part of a broader worldview about the nature of love and family in general. Even in this broader context, it is easy to see how the two worlds need each other and complement each other.
In the secular pole of the spectrum, the connection between physical relations and commitment has been severed in recent generations. The physical and intimate aspect of love, inherently fleeting, has been divorced from its spiritual aspect, which is expressed in the formation of a lasting covenant. This is symbolized by the dissociation of the Fifteenth of Av from its original context as a day of searching for life partners, and turning it into a generic “love day,” creating relationship that could end as early as the morning of the 16th of Av. This has turned the courtship dance in the vineyards into a kind of “vampire ball,” where everyone must go through several romantic relationships, must be hurt and hurt others, before beginning to seek a steady relationship with a life partner. The accumulated emotional hardening and detachment resulting from this secular rite of passage diminish the chance to weave and maintain a true and open-hearted loving relationship later in life. This side needs to reconsider the values of exclusivity, commitment, and loyalty in order to rebuild a sane space in which stable relationships can be nurtured without having to go through this harrowing path.
On the other side of the scale, the Ultra-Orthodox side, the values of commitment and family loyalty stand as they should, and the religious society benefits from this stability and sanity; but at the same time, the role of natural emotions in forming relationships is often lacking. The spiritual dimension of a couple’s relationship stands on the shoulders of its earthly dimension, which includes basic human relations, emotional communication, and basic self-awareness. Tending to these levels tends to get lost in the noble aspiration to establish a home that is a “minor sanctuary” and in which “the Divine Presence dwells between the couple.” The result is a floating castle that often doesn’t strike roots in the heart.
