Phone Call or Face-to-Face?

What is so special about 15 Av, and what practical lesson does it teach us about prayer.

The Original Jewish Singles Mixer

In the days of the Temple, today’s date—the 15th of Av—was a full-blown holiday. 

All the young women in Jerusalem who needed to find a match—especially those from families who couldn’t afford dowries and the like—would come out into the vineyards and dance. It was a very equalizing experience; they would borrow simple white dresses from each other so that no one would be able to tell who came from money and who didn’t, and they would go out to meet someone. 

The Talmud asks an interesting question: Why this day? Why not choose the 15th of another month, like July or September? What made this particular date the right one for dancing and matchmaking?

The Last Night in the Desert

Rabbi Yochanan, quoted by Rabbah bar bar Chanah, gives an explanation for why the 15th of Av became a holiday: “It was the day the generation of the desert stopped dying.”

We all know the story of the spies — Moses sent twelve men to scout out the Land of Canaan and report back on what they saw. Ten of them came back with a grim report. They said there was no way the Jewish people could conquer the land. The other two, Joshua and Caleb, disagreed and insisted they could succeed. But the people chose to believe the majority. That night — the night of the Ninth of Av — the nation cried. They didn’t want to go into the Land of Israel. Some even said, “Let’s appoint a new leader and go back to Egypt.”

G-d was disappointed with the reactions, and told Moses that this generation, the one that had refused to enter the land, would get their wish — they indeed wouldn’t enter. Instead, the Jews would wander in the desert for 40 years until that entire generation passed away. Only the next generation, the one raised in the desert under Moses’s leadership, would enter the land.

The decree only applied to the men between the ages of twenty and sixty — the women, who had always loved and believed in the Land of Israel, were not included. And so, every year, about 15–20,000 men who were turning sixty would dig their own graves on the night of the Ninth of Av (I assume they would first make a goodby party…), lie down in them, and not wake up.

In the fortieth year — the final year in the desert — the last group turning sixty went through the same process. They dug their graves, said goodbye to their families, and lay down in the ground. But in the morning… they were still alive. No one had died. Rashi says they thought maybe they had miscalculated the date — back then they didn’t have printed calendars; everything was based on the moon. So they figured maybe it wasn’t actually the Ninth of Av yet.

So the next night, they went back to their graves and lay down again. Still alive the next morning. They repeated this, night after night, until the 15th of the month.  When they saw a full moon, they knew for sure it was no longer the Ninth of Av. The decree had officially ended. 

That day was declared a holiday. It was the first sign that G-d had forgiven them — they were finally going to enter the Land of Israel.

Thirty-Eight Years of Distance

The Talmud continues with another fascinating thing that happened on that same day: There was a change in G-d’s relationship with Moses. In the words of the Talmud, “Until the generation of the desert had died out, G-d didn’t speak with Moses [in the usual way].” 

What does that mean? G-d spoke to Moses all those years in the desert. What changed when they died out? 

Moses says in Parshas Devarim, “When all the men of war had finally died, G-d spoke to me…” Rashi explains that since the story of the spies until that moment, the Torah never says Vayidaber, but rather Vayomen. It doesn’t say “G-d spoke,” only “G-d said” — a subtle but important shift. During all 38 of those years, G-d’s communication with Moses lacked the warmth and closeness of before. It wasn’t face-to-face. 

But, the Talmud explains, this ended on the 15th of Av. That’s when Moses felt G-d’s affection again.

Like a Phone Call

What does it actually mean that G-d spoke to Moses, but not “with love” and not “face to face”? What changed? What exactly was missing from those conversations?

I want to share with you a story about one of the Rebbe’s first emissaries, Rabbi Nachman Sudak o.b.m., who was sent to England in 1959. At the time, Rabbi Hodakov — who oversaw the Rebbe’s network of emissaries — made a rule: anyone sent overseas could only come back to New York to visit 770 once every two years. The rule was necessary because these were young shluchim who would have loved to visit the Rebbe. If there hadn’t been a limit, many of them would have found a way to come back every month.

In the summer of 1961, after almost two full years in England, Rabbi Sudak managed to organize a large group of Jews to travel to New York to visit the Rebbe. He chartered a plane and they flew together to the U.S. Back then, flights were long and included several stopovers.  After two stops and 18 hours of travel, they finally made it to 770.

If you want to appreciate how special this visit was to the Rebbe—the Rebbe stayed up waiting for them until 3:30 in the morning, and when they got there, even though it was the middle of the night, the Rebbe came down and held a 1hour farbrengen. In the photos, you can see a bunch of exhausted people sitting and listening intently as the Rebbe speaks.

Now, Rabbi Sudak remembered the rule very well — the once-every-two-years rule. So before traveling with the group, he wrote a letter to the Rebbe’s secretary, Rabbi Hodakov, asking for permission to come. But as the travel date got closer and no response came, he figured, “No answer must mean yes,” and went ahead with the trip.

But when he met Rabbi Hodakov in New York, he was met with a sharp response. 

“By us,” Rabbi Hodakov told him in Yiddish, “silence is not consent.” Just because you didn’t get a reply doesn’t mean we said yes. “If you would listen to me, I would’ve told you to turn around and go straight back to England.” 

Then he added, “As far as we’re concerned, you’re in London.” Rabbi Sudak wouldn’t be granted a private audience with the Rebbe — a yechidus, the highlight of any visit — and if the Rebbe wrote him a letter, it would be mailed to his address in London.

You can only imagine how Rabbi Sudak felt, but nonetheless he remained with the group.

About two and half weeks later, just before the group returned to England, Rabbi Hodakov called Rabbi Sudak over. “The Rebbe told me,” he said, “that with young people, we need to be a little softer.” Rabbi Sudak would be allowed in for a private meeting. But it wouldn’t be a typical yechidus, he was told. It would be like a phone call.

Years later, when Rabbi Sudak told me this story, he ended by saying, “It really did feel like a phone call. The Rebbe spoke to me — but it felt different.”

How Are You Praying?

This story helped me understand that there really are two kinds of conversations. There’s a phone call — and then there’s a real face-to-face meeting, where you feel the warmth and connection with the other person. 

What can we take from this idea? 

Every day, when we pray, we talk to G-d. But here’s the question we each need to ask ourselves: what kind of conversation is it? Is it a phone call… or is it a face-to-face meeting?

What’s the difference? 

When you’re on the phone, you’re usually doing something else too — washing dishes, making a cup of tea, answering emails. Sometimes we pray like that. We are saying the words, but our minds are somewhere else. So, at the very least, we need to remember that when we reach the Amidah — the central prayer — it has to be a face-to-face moment.

That’s why we take three steps back, and then three steps forward — like someone approaching a king. It’s a way of entering that moment with awareness, like you’re walking into a personal meeting.

Friends, how personal and loving that conversation feels — that’s up to us. If we’re fully present, if our heart is open and our thoughts are directed to G-d, the result will be like a reflection in a mirror. G-d responds in kind. He’ll bless us with everything we need — including the greatest blessing of all: the coming of Moshiach, may it be soon.