Another year, we find ourselves once again sitting on the floor if Mashiach has not yet arrived.

Chazal teach us:

"כל המתאבל על ירושלים - זוכה ורואה בשמחתה. ושאינו מתאבל על ירושלים - אינו רואה בשמחתה."

"Whoever mourns for Yerushalayim will merit to see her joy, and one who does not mourn will not see her joy."

We hope and pray that this Tisha B'Av will be the last. We await the Geulah and long for the day to be transformed into a moed a time of celebration speedily in our days.

Perhaps this should be the last Tisha B’Av not only because of our longing for redemption and geula, but also because we’ve forgotten what we’re truly mourning, and how to mourn.

We live in a time where the weight of Tisha B’Av has sadly been diminished. Sitting on the floor, reading Kinnos in shul, is no longer the experience many of our children are growing up with. The day has been diluted taken over and, at times, even misused.

Ask a child today what Tisha B’Av means, and too often the first thing that comes to mind is “movie day.” Marketers target the date for high-profile video production releases, premiers, and sometimes even ideological agenda driven messaging. What was once a day of national grief has, in some circles, become a day of distraction.

Yes, modern technology allows us the comfort of our homes to hear inspiring shiurim and live-streamed drashos. And many of these messages are filled with sincerity calling for ahavas chinam, addressing the dangers of lashon hara and sinas chinam. But perhaps the emotional preparation and internal reflection these messages encourage should begin before Tisha B’Av, in the days leading up to it.

Tisha B’Av is not a day to anticipate it is a day we should long to transform. Not into a day of digital programming, but into a Yom Tov. משום דאיקרי מועד.

May we merit to see that day soon.