D’var Torah – April 18
Quick Rabbi’s note:
Hi, Everyone – Shabbat Shalom Moadim L’simcha!
A quick apology! Next week is actually Parsha Shemini… … This week is a special reading in honor of Pesach. (Exodus 14:30 – 15:21) (Haftarah II Samuel 22:1 – 51)
My apologies for any confusion, but I do hope you find this D’var Torah meaningful, nonetheless!
Wishing you a good Shabbos and a Happy Passover! – Rabbi Aaron
Sometimes Silence is Best
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach! I hope this finds you all well.
I was very blessed with a phenomenal teacher and mentor during my time in Rabbinical school. I am forever grateful to him for his tutelage and friendship. Of all the nuggets of wisdom he shared with me, I’ll always remember a story he told me: there was a woman who had just lost her husband. They had been married for years and years and years. Their love for one another had neither ceased nor diminished; if anything, in fact, it had only grown with time. As one can easily understand, the widow was devastated. After the funeral, shiva was held at the widow’s house. Friends and family chatted and talked. The widow sat there on her living room couch, crying softly. My mentor went over to her. He offered no words, not a single syllable or utterance. He simply sat down next to her and held her hand. He held her hand and she held his for hours. No words – no mitzvot from Torah, no poetry from psalms or proverbs, no commentary from Rashi or Rambam… just his silent, reassuring, comforting presence. I’ll remember that story as long as I live.
I’ve loved our prophet Moses, Moshe Rabbeinu, since I was first taught about him at three years old. I’ve been in awe of his holiness, leadership, bravery, tenacity, humility, resiliency, and perseverance. He truly is the greatest of all our prophets. But Moses was human, and because of that, sometimes he got it wrong, and that’s ok; in fact, there’s probably something humanizing and reassuring about that that makes him far more real, human, relatable, and accessible to us. I posit that in this week’s parsha of Shemini (Leviticus 9:1-11:47), we see one of these instances.
In Leviticus 10:1-2, after offering “alien fire” on the altar, Aaron’s two eldest sons, the newly appointed priests Nadab and Abihu, are killed. In the next line, literally the next line, Moses turns to Aaron and says: “This is what God meant by saying: ‘Through those near to Me I show Myself holy, And gain glory before all the people.*’” (Leviticus 10:3).
When I hear Moses’ words I am reminded of other unhelpful, and quite frankly counterproductive words of “comfort and consolation”:
It is the adult who tells a child who has lost their first dog or cat, “oh don’t worry, you can get another one.”
It is the person who tells their friend going through a painful break-up or divorce after a multi-year relationship that no one saw coming, “it’s all good, there are plenty of fish in the sea.”
And it is the person who tells a woman who has suffered a traumatic miscarriage or still-born, “it’s ok, you can try again.”
When Moses says these words to Aaron, the text tells us the following: “And Aaron was silent.” (Leviticus 10:3).
For many, silence is awkward and uncomfortable. In moments of deep sadness and pain, we try to break the silence of pain and fill the pain of silence with words, any words really. We need words to make ourselves feel less awkward and we assume that those in pain need it as well. However, our forefathers saw past this and taught that sometimes less is more and that silence can truly be golden.
Rabbi Yehuda of the Talmud taught “The best remedy of all is silence;” (Megillah 18.a.11). In Proverbs we read “A knowledgeable man is sparing with his words; A man of understanding is reticent. Even a fool, if he keeps silent, is deemed wise; Intelligent, if he seals his lips; (Proverbs 17:27-28) Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar teaches “Do not assuage the anger of your friend at the time of his anger; do not console him at the time when his deceased lies before him…” (Pirkei Avot 4:9); and finally, Rabbi Shlomo ibn Gabirol declares “In seeking wisdom, the first step is silence, the second listening, the third remembering, the fourth practicing, the fifth teaching others.”[1]
Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help and guidance, may we know when to offer words of hope, consolation, and reassurance to our neighbors, friends and family, and may we know when to simply be there with them in the pain of silence and silence of pain.
Wishing you a Good Shabbos, a Happy Passover, and a great weekend.
Bivrakha,
Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky
Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601
(540) 667-1889 (office)