"To be a teacher in the right sense is to be a learner.  I am not a teacher, only a fellow student."  (Soren Kierkegaard)

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A FEW PRE-SHABBAT WORDS FROM RABBI AARON

Grief and Consolation
Parashat shmini contains the tragic public deaths of Aaron's older two sons, Nadav and Avihu. The scene is so starkly brief that readers are left grasping for clues, for references points that will allow us to make sense [if such a thing is possible] of the story. Below, the first parasha pdf is something of an ancient roundtable of ancient scholars trying to piece the mystery together. The two main questions with which they wrestle are:

1) Why did these men die? If God was punishing them by taking their lives, what terrible crime did they commit?
2) Considering all the words Moses shared with Aaron immediately upon the death of Nadav and Avihu, what was he trying to say? What can we learn from Aaron's response of silence?

Some of my best teachers used to say: when you see the scholars offering many answers to a challenging question - it just might mean that they don't know the answer. The searing pain that etches the portrait of Nadav and Avihu moves many of us to silence. While some sages want to read Aaron's silence as an expression of comfort, others are not willing to soften this heartbreaking scene so easily. 

From the text to Real Life
The death of these young men calls to mind the grief of any parent confronted with the unanswerable questions surrounding the loss of their child, the loss of those dreams, the notion that some things cannot be fixed or made to be okay. Clever and insightful as some of the commentary might be, in real life - no words of explanation can pretend to be adequate. When we attempt to offer condolences - too often we say things with good intentions, words that are not really healing. We talk about closure and moving on, we prattle on without realizing that we're not really offering any comfort to family members whose pain will not be soothed with our fumbling words. Even Moses was not immune from such shortcomings.

The second pdf below contains a strong piece about these issues, written by Beth Freishtat. She gives voice to the complexity of grief as well as the vital responsibility of the kehilla with regard to being there for those who are struggling with loss. I do not believe that there is a one-size-fits-all set of quick instructions that can emotionally or spiritually rise to the occasion of parents burying children. I think the enigmatic style of the parasha suggests that there really are no easy answers. Aaron's haunting silence is a very important truth within this story.

A few parshiot from now, the opening words will be: "The Lord spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron..."  The Hebrew title of this text - Acharay Mot; literally - After the Death - conveys an important realization. This tragic scene in Leviticus chapter 10 is a watershed tragedy, no less than the Golden Calf. It's like witnessing a government leader being cut down in public. Those who bear witness are forever changed. The Israelites who saw the terrible spectacle of Nadav and Avihu dying would never be the same. On a personal level, Moses and Aaron could never be the same. David Grossman, one of Israel's finest living writers, lost his young son in the last few days of Israel's war against Hezbollah in Lebanon. In a book I have yet to confront, Grossman tells his fallen son how he aches because they can no longer run together. Grossman's literary expression of his grief captures something the ancient sages missed (or avoided) in their deliberations. 

The loss and the silence remain. There is also the embrace of the community. Perhaps it is halting. We don't know what to say, or when to be quiet. But our love and concern become the shelter in the storm.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Aaron

Click any of the images below to view the complete pdf file