Rabbi
Doniel Staum, LMSW
Rabbi,
Kehillat New Hempstead
Social
Worker, Yeshiva Bais Hachinuch/ASHAR
STAM
TORAH
PARSHAS SHEMINI/PARSHAS
PARAH 5774
“INANIMATE
MEANING”
“Out, out brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the
stage
And then, it is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”
(William Shakespeare,
Macbeth, Act V, Scene 5)
In the
Fall 2003 edition of Spirit Magazine[1],
the feature article was authored by Rabbi Baruch Rabinowitz, a noted lecturer
and rebbe from Long Island ,
NY
Rabbi
Rabinowitz wrote that as everyone was reeling from the horrible events, he was
invited by various groups to speak and provide insight into what had
transpired. But he himself did not know what to say. At a complete loss, he
contacted his rebbe, the legendary Rabbi Moshe Shapiro shlita in Yerushalayim
and asked if he could join him for Shabbos. Rabbi Shapiro agreed. Before and
after Shabbos the two spent numerous hours in deep philosophical discussion.
At
one point Rabbi Shapiro asked Rabbi Rabinowitz if he thought people had changed
because of the tragedy. Rabbi Rabinowitz replied that people indeed seemed more
patient and tolerant of each other. They seemed more compassionate and generous
and there was a refreshing sense of unity.
Rabbi
Shapiro then asked Rabbi Rabinowitz if he felt people were praying differently
and what he thought people were praying for. Rabbi Rabinowitz stuttered, “I
guess for world peace, and for an end to the pain.”
Rabbi
Shapiro replied, “Perhaps. But I am afraid that people are praying that things
return back to the way they were. They want the world to return to the level of
equilibrium and calm that existed before the attacks. They want to return to
what was familiar, and what was comfortable. They are uncomfortable with the
wellspring of unfamiliar emotions…They may even be praying that the whole thing
should be one bad dream that never happened.
“That
type of prayer is a big mistake! The Holy One guides the world in a very
specific manner. Through the events of history G-d takes us from here to there.
There is a beginning and a purpose for it all and G-d is guiding us there. The
whole world is structured this way.
“The
word shomayim (heaven) contains the word ”shom- there”. The word
eretz (earth) – according to the Radak- is comprised of two words, “ani ratz-
I run”. The world is a place of running and moving. But it’s not enough just to
run. One can run in place and go nowhere. We must run in this world with a
purpose, there must be ‘shom’ – a destination. If there is shom
then the running has meaning. If there is no shom then we are running without
direction.
“The
Creator is sending us a message that we have to move away from what was to a
new place where he wants us to be. G-d has a plan; He has a purpose for us. We
must accept that life will no longer be what it was. “Mir darfen zich
tzushtelen tzu ratzon haBorei- We must connect to what G-d wants of
us!”
“I
think people are afraid of the future and are fearful of the unknown, and,
therefore, they are not praying to go forward but to return to what is familiar.”
In
the introduction to his commentary on the Torah, Rabbi Yeruchom Levovitz zt’l,
the Mirrer Mashgiach, discusses the reality of the world for one who lacks
faith and belief in G-d. A faithless person believes that the forces of entropy
take their natural course and set the world on a random path, which can best be
described as a stroke of luck.[2]
Faith
in G-d is the only concept that can give life direction (כוון) and purpose תכלית)). Without
faith life lacks those vital qualities and one will be compelled to search for
meaning and purpose in other areas in order to quell his yearning spirit. That is
why people develop hobbies, including becoming passionate sports fans or
developing ardent ties with political parties. These ideas and concepts become
their complete focus and sometimes consume them completely. It is their
replacement for their natural need to connect with something greater than
themselves.
The challenge develops when the world stops
appreciating one’s interests and no longer cares for his contribution. When
this happens the person is left with a painful void in his heart; his existence
may feel empty and overbearing. He may come to a bitter realization that he is
coasting though a purposeless life. Often people resort to alcohol and drugs to
numb the unbearable horrible pain that they feel. They may feel that if they
have no worthy focus in their lives it is easier to just remove all focus
altogether.
Our generation is particularly challenged with
numbness. We set our lives on cruise control and continue to drive down life’s
highway without hitting the breaks to search for meaning and insight.
The
absolutely most painful realization of all is when one begins to think his life
has no meaning; “A walking shadow…Signifying nothing.”
Secularists
claim that one must counter that inner void and numbness with any means
possible. In the words of famous American singer Frank Sinatra: “I’m for
anything that gets you through the night, be it prayers, tranquilizers, or a
bottle of Jack Daniels.” We believe however, that the void stems from an inner
calling, the soul within pining for meaning and connection with its eternal
roots.
“It
was on the eighth day”[3].
The construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was complete and the seven days of
“practice” were over; it was time for the Service in the Mishkan to officially
commence. The gemara[4]
relates that the day of the coronation of the Mishkan was as joyous before G-d
as the day of the creation of the world. It was to be a day of unparalleled
grandeur and significance.
In a
sense, it was Aharon’s big day. When the celestial fire consumed the offerings
that Aharon offered on the Altar, Aharon was vindicated as everyone saw that he
was forgiven for initiating the sin of the golden calf. “A fire went forth from
before G-d and consumed upon the Altar…the people saw and sang glad song and
fell upon their faces”[5].
Just
as the joy of the inauguration reached its crescendo however, tragedy struck.
Aharon’s two oldest sons, two of the most elite leaders of the nation,
performed an unauthorized service and were instantly killed. “The sons of
Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, each took his fire pan, and they put fire in them, and
placed incense upon it; and they brought before G-d an alien fire than He had
not commanded them. A fire came forth from before G-d and it consumed them, and
they died before G-d”[6].
The
death of Nadav and Avihu, especially at such an unpropitious time, was a catastrophic
tragedy. Suddenly the intense joy was transformed into shock, mourning, and
grief. One can only imagine how
personally devastating the loss was to Aharon. Yet, the verse relates his
incredibly controlled reaction, “וידם
אהרן – Aharon was
silent”[7].
By
nature, man has a penchant to find meaning and significance in all that occurs.
We have a sense of security when we feel that we have a logical perspective of
the mechanics and occurrences of the world around us. Thus, when something
happens that defies logic and rationale, it shakes us to the core, and fills us
with anxiety, apprehension, and angst.
The
extent of true belief in G-d is achieved when one is comfortable with the
notion that we do not, and cannot, comprehend the Divine Plans. One who
possesses real faith is secure with the knowledge that ultimately there is a
Master who controls everything and only acts out of justice and goodness. The
man of faith – even with tears falling from his eyes and reeling from the
magnitude of painful events that occurred – is able to maintain a sense of
internal security and peace of mind. He may be deeply pained and full of
questions; however, he takes solace in knowing that there are indeed answers though
he may not be privy to them.
In
describing Aharon’s reaction of silence the Torah uses the word “vayidom”
and not the more common word “vayishtok” because the word ‘vayidom’
is similar to the word ‘domem- inanimate’. The Sages say, “עשה עצמו כדומם- Aharon made himself like an inanimate
object.” A stone cannot
comprehend anything that occurs in front of it because it lacks the mental
capacity for understanding. Aharon realized that he was unable to grasp the
depth of the precision of the Divine Justice meted out here. He recognized that,
in relation to the celestial, he was analogous to an inanimate, lifeless, and
clueless pebble. Aharon was able to submit to that existential understanding
despite his incredible personal pain because of his unwavering faith in G-d.
The
prophet[8]
speaks of the challenges of the end of time. Just prior to the Messianic era
everything will be perplexing and enigmatic. The Divine Plan will be obscure
and faith will be severely tested. But, “ המשכיל בעת ההיא ידום - One who is wise, at that time he will be
silent.” In the face of adversity and dubious events the man of faith adopts
the attitude of Aharon, as an inanimate object who cannot grasp what is beyond
it.
Most people live with an attitude of blame and
pointing fingers at others. The American mentality is that as soon as something
goes awry we ask whose fault it was[9].
In reality, this is a defense mechanism protecting us from our fear of facing
the true meaning behind events and the ramifications it should have on our
lives.
Because our faith is so flimsy, when a tragedy
occurs, Heaven forbid, our faith can be shaken. The root of the crises of faith
stems from the fact that our faith was too fragile to begin with because it was
built on false presuppositions and ideologies. In a sense, we sugarcoat our
faith and tailor it to fit with our own agenda; “That could never happen to me!
G-d would never challenge me in that manner!” Because of that attitude, when
tragedy strikes, Heaven forbid, it catches us off guard and our faith is
immediately challenged.
It behooves us to build our faith with proper
understanding before we are faced with the inevitable challenges that arise in
life. “עשה עצמו כדומם” was Aharon’s
attitude about life generally. That was why when tragedy struck his intense
sorrow and grief did not shake his faith.
The Jewish philosophy of purity and holiness
does not entail abstinence and cessation[10].
In fact, Judaism espouses the belief that holiness is ubiquitous and can be
generated wherever and whenever one strives to do so. One also becomes holy,
not despite his pitfalls, setbacks, and errors, but because of them. The
future must be built on one’s past and present, on one’s accomplishments and
failures.
In the words of Rabbi Shapiro: “The Holy One guides the world in a very
specific manner. Through the events of history G-d is taking us from here to
there. There is a beginning as well as a purpose for it all and G-d is guiding
us there.”
The
holidays of Purim and Pesach are predicated on this idea. The pains that we
suffered at the behest of Pharaoh and Haman were the keys to the national
spiritual growth that occurred when we were saved from their evil clutches.
The
Jews who lived through Haman’s rise and fall at the time of the Purim miracle
did not pray that things revert to how they were before Haman came on the scene.
They realized that it was only through that difficult encounter that the great
story of Purim, with all of its positive spiritual ramifications, could occur.
The same held true at the time of the exodus from Egypt
The
reading of the Red Heifer - Parshas Para - which discusses the process of
purity is strategically read between the great holidays of Purim and Pesach.
This reminds us that purity emanates from one who takes their past into the
future and strives to grow from it all. The past and the present are the roots
of the future!
Rabbi Kokis concluded his lecture with the
following story:
I knew a simple yet holy Jew, a ba’al teshuva[11],
who went rowing out on a lake with his son one summer’s day. While they were
out on the water the boat capsized and the man helplessly watched his son
drown.
Despite his anguish the man was somehow able
to come to terms with the harsh decree with love. He was a generally happy
person who lived without complaints. About fifteen years ago I went to visit
him. He was lying in bed dying from the cancer that was ravaging his body.
During our conversation he smiled and said, “I always wondered why my son was
taken from me in such a tragic manner. Now I am going to find out!”
“Aharon
was silent”
“Mir
darfen zich tzushtelen tzu ratzon haBorei”
[1] “Spirit:
Exploring family issues and developmental disabilities” is published quarterly
by Yedei Chessed, an affiliate of Bikur Cholim of Monsey.
[2] The
following thoughts are based on a lecture given by Rabbi BenZion Kokis,
Mashgiach of the Bais Medrash of Yeshiva Shaarei Torah, to the members of the
Yeshiva’s Kollel during the week of parshas Shemini 5765
[3] Vayikra
9:1
[4] Megilla
11a
[5] Vayikra
9:24
[6] Vayikra
10:1-2
[7] Vayikra
10:3
[8] Amos
5:13
[9] “Did you
sue?”
[10] These
concluding thoughts are my addition
[11] one who became religious later in life
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