Asara B’Tevet: When a Siege Begins Within the Walls

A Reflective and Inspirational Exploration of the Fast of the Tenth of Tevet

Rebbetzin Hannah Miryam Bejarano Gutierrez

Introduction: A Quiet Fast With Lasting Echoes

Asara B’Tevet, the Fast of the Tenth of Tevet, often arrives quietly in the Jewish calendar. It lacks the public gravity of Tisha B’Av or the spiritual intensity of Yom Kippur, yet its message is both subtle and piercing. This fast does not mark destruction itself, but the moment when destruction became inevitable—the day when Jerusalem was encircled, when danger was no longer distant, but pressing from all sides.

In Jewish time, beginnings matter. Asara B’Tevet invites us to pay attention not only to outcomes, but to the early stages of spiritual erosion, moral compromise, and emotional siege—those moments when warning signs appear, yet change is still possible.

The Historical Moment: The Day the Walls Were Surrounded

The origins of Asara B’Tevet are recorded explicitly in Tanach. In the ninth year of King Tzidkiyahu’s reign, on the tenth day of Tevet, King Nevuchadnezzar of Babylon laid siege to Jerusalem:

“On the tenth day of the tenth month… the king of Babylon came, he and all his army, against Jerusalem, and they encamped against it”(Melachim II 25:1; see also Yirmiyahu 52:4)

This was not yet destruction. The Beit HaMikdash still stood. Life continued, though under pressure. But the city was sealed. Supplies dwindled. Hope narrowed. Eighteen months later, the walls would be breached (17 Tammuz), and the Temple would be burned (9 Av).

Chazal teach us that this day was so significant that the prophet Yechezkel—already in exile—was instructed by God to write down the date itself, emphasizing that something irreversible had begun (Yechezkel 24:1–2).

Asara B’Tevet thus marks the beginning of collapse, not its climax.

Why Fast Over a Beginning?

Judaism’s choice to fast on this date is striking. Why mourn the start rather than the end?

Because spiritually, endings are rarely sudden. The siege of Jerusalem was not only military—it was moral and spiritual. Long before Babylon arrived, the people were warned by prophets about corruption, injustice, empty ritual, and fractured unity. The physical siege mirrored an inner reality that had already taken hold.

Asara B’Tevet teaches that the most dangerous moment is not destruction itself, but denial—the point when walls are closing in and we convince ourselves that nothing must change.

The Prophetic Framework: From Mourning to Meaning

The fast of the tenth month is mentioned by the prophet Zechariah alongside other fasts commemorating the Temple’s destruction:

“The fast of the fourth, the fast of the fifth, the fast of the seventh, and the fast of the tenth…”(Zechariah 8:19)

Yet the same prophecy carries a breathtaking promise: these days will one day transform into festivals of joy and truth.

This teaches a profound Jewish idea: fast days are not meant to preserve grief forever, but to refine the soul until grief is no longer needed. Mourning, when properly lived, becomes the soil from which healing grows.

Halachic Character: A Fast That Refuses to Move

Asara B’Tevet is a minor fast: it begins at dawn and ends at nightfall, with eating and drinking prohibited, while other physical restrictions do not apply.

Yet it has a unique halachic distinction. When it falls on a Friday, it is still observed—unlike other minor fasts that are postponed. We fast into the day of Shabbat itself, ending only shortly before Kiddush. (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 249:4)

Many commentators note that this underscores the gravity of the day. The message is clear: some moments demand attention on their exact date. Delayed reflection risks missed repair.

A Modern Layer: Memory Without Names

In the aftermath of the Holocaust, Asara B’Tevet acquired an additional dimension. The Chief Rabbinate of Israel designated it as Yom HaKaddish HaKlali—a collective memorial day for victims whose date of death is unknown and for those who have no one left to say Kaddish on their behalf.

This choice was not arbitrary. The siege of Jerusalem symbolizes not only physical destruction, but the silencing of voices, families, and futures. On this day, the Jewish people stand as witnesses for those who cannot be remembered individually—but must never be forgotten collectively.

An Inner Siege: The Spiritual Work of the Day

Asara B’Tevet challenges us to ask difficult, honest questions:

• Where in my life have I allowed walls to close slowly?

• What habits, resentments, or fears have surrounded my inner Jerusalem?

• What warning signs have I ignored because collapse felt far away?

  
  

Fasting creates space—physical hunger sharpening spiritual awareness. We learn that nourishment does not only come from consumption, but from clarity.

The Rambam teaches that fast days are meant to awaken hearts, not merely afflict bodies. They are calls to teshuvah—return, repair, and renewed alignment.

From Siege to Strength: An Inspirational Lens

There is something quietly hopeful about Asara B’Tevet. Even as it commemorates confinement, it also honors awareness. The people inside Jerusalem still had time—time to pray, to unite, to soften hardened hearts.

In our own lives, recognizing the siege is already an act of courage.

When we notice emotional distance before relationships collapse, when we sense spiritual dryness before faith fades, when we confront patterns before they become prisons—we are living the deeper message of this fast.

Conclusion: Guarding the City Within

Asara B’Tevet reminds us that holiness is not only lost in flames—it is lost when we stop guarding what matters.

Yet it also affirms something eternal: awareness can interrupt inevitability. Memory can redeem pain. And even the darkest fasts are held within a tradition that believes in transformation.

May this day sharpen our sensitivity, strengthen our inner walls, and move us—step by step—toward the fulfillment of the prophetic promise, when fasts will turn into days of joy, and siege will give way to peace.