In the summer there occurs a three week period of mourning that begins with the Fast of Tammuz and ends with Tishah B’Av. The last nine days of this three week period (i.e., from Av 1 until Av 9th) are days of increased mourning. However, after this somber time, the happier holiday of Tu B’Av, the 15th of Av occurs. Summer ends with the 30 days of the month of Elul, a yearly season of teshuvah (repentance) that anticipates Rosh Hashanah and the fall holidays. The 30 days of Elul are combined with the first 10 days of the month of Tishri to create the “Forty Days of Teshuvah” that culminate with Yom Kippur.
Because they occur between the spring and fall holidays, the summer holidays help us prepare for the second coming of the Messiah:
Note that in accordance with tradition, holiday dates begin at sundown. Moreover, some holidays may be postponed one day if they happen to fall on the weekly Sabbath:
For more information see the Hebrew for Christians Holiday Pages…
King Solomon wrote, “The fear of the LORD adds days [to life], but the years of the wicked will be cut short” (Prov. 10:27). The sages have said that these “added days” of life include the appointed times and seasons (i.e., the moedim) when the veil of “everydayness” is lifted and we can glimpse the sacred. Living in dissonance with God’s will yields days that are shortened – by vanity, by dissipation, and by despair. And what good are length of days when they are filled with emptiness and illusion? As Solomon also concluded in his great scroll of Kohelet, fearing God and keeping his commandments is the “end of the matter” (סוֹף דָּבָר) and the “whole duty” of our lives (Eccl. 12:13).
Reflecting on the role of suffering in the heart of faith, Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote: “Here is the decisive difference between Christianity and all religions. Man’s religiosity makes him look in his distress to the power of God in the world: God is the deus ex machina [i.e., “quick fix”]. The Bible [on the other hand] directs man to God’s powerlessness and suffering: only a suffering God can help” (Letters and Papers from Prison). Bonhoeffer’s comment alludes to the difference between an “Elohim” (אֱלהִים) conception of God as the omnipotent power and Judge of reality, and the “YHVH” (יהוה) conception of God as the compassion Source and Breath of life – the Suffering God who empties himself to partake of our condition – to know our pain, to bear our sorrows, to heal us from the sickness of spiritual death, and to touch us in the loneliness of our exile… The Spirit enables us to “groan” in compassion, directing us away from the impulse to “kill the pain” to accept it as part of our lament and need for connection with God.
“If I say, surely darkness covers me … the night shines as the day; nothing hides from your radiance” (Psalm 139:11-12). We have to trust that God is in our darkness, in the silence, in the unknown… You come out of the shadows when you admit that you act just like other people, that you are human, in need of reconciliation yourself… Above all you need God. You need help. You need a miracle to help you to truly love. You may find excuses for many things, but you cannot escape the “wretched man that I am” reality that is grounded in your fears. God sees in the darkness and is present there, too. When you feel alone, like an unbridgeable gulf lay between you and all that is good; when you feel like you want to scream but are afraid that even then no one would hear, may the LORD shine His light upon you…
Contact with the dead causes spiritual impurity (i.e., tumah) because death, as the separation from life, is the ultimate expression and consequence of sin. People routinely deny the meaning of death, explaining it away as the result of some cause from which one might escape (“he worked too hard,” “she got sick,” “it was an accident,” etc.). People rationalize death because they refuse to see it as the effect of sin, the consequence of the original transgression of Adam and Eve that humanity as a whole has “inherited” (Gen. 2:17; 3:19; Rom. 5:12). Therefore the Torah states that the birth of a child results in impurity (Lev. 12:2,7). Full atonement comes from “digging up the root of sin” by being purified from its source, namely, the curse of death itself. The Red Heifer alludes to the sin of the Golden Calf, which finds its source in the original idolatry of Adam and Eve. Even the blood of the sacrifice was burned to ash “outside the camp,” putting a complete end to the “life of death” and its power to corrupt. The Red Heifer is therefore a special sort of “sin offering” (chatat) that cleanses from contact with death itself (Num. 19:9).
“Everyone who is bitten, when he looks upon it, shall live” (Num. 21:8). The fiery serpent – the very sting of which brings death – is what must be looked upon, confronted, and confessed. We must look at that which kills us, and by seeing it, we can then see God’s miracle (נֵּס) that delivers us… Therefore we look to the cross – the place where Yeshua clothed himself with our sickness and sin – to realize God’s remedy for our eternal healing. As Yeshua explained to Nicodemus, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14-15). Humanity as a whole has been “bitten by the snake” and needs to be delivered from its lethal venom. Just as the image made in the likeness of the destroying snake was lifted up for Israel’s healing, so the One made in the likeness of sinful flesh (Rom. 8:3) was to be lifted up as the Healer of the world. In Yeshua the miraculous exchange takes place: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). Bless His holy name!
Our Torah portion this week (i.e., 
The sages say the verse, “Blessed is the person who fears always” (Prov. 28:14), means that whenever you want to do something, you should first soberly consider the consequences… If you do not think clearly, you will not fear, and such carelessness invariably leads to sin. The sacred is bound up with care; it sets boundaries between the profane and the holy. The “fear of the LORD” is expressed as vigilance against the lusts of the lower nature (yetzer ha’ra)… We “tremble” before God when we are awake to His holiness and wonder (Phil. 2:12). The Temple was destroyed because of our forefathers did not think about their actions; they first exiled themselves from the Divine Presence and then they “caught up with” the pain of their exile for themselves.
“Grass withers, a flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever” (Isa. 40:8). This verse sets up a great contrast between olam ha-zeh and olam haba – between this present world and the heavenly realm. King David states, “Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you (וְחֶלְדִּי כְאַיִן נֶגְדֶּךָ). Surely all mankind stands as a mere vanity” (Psalm 39:5). Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God, the Eternal, the abiding, and true: “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you” (Psalm 73:25). To the extent that we regard this world as our “home” we will find the transience of life to be tragic; but when we regard ourselves as strangers here, merely passing through, our transience becomes a passageway to the heavenly places…