Rabbi Breit's Blog

This week's Torah portion is called Acharei Mot or After the Death.

It opens with God sending a message to Aaron through Moses on how to approach God in the same sentence that repeats how two of Aaron’s sons have just died for approaching too close to God. The word for approach to God, qorva, is the same root as a sacrifice, qorban, or the basis of the Temple’s operation. In the aftermath of tragic death, deaths of his own children who were trying to operate God’s house, a house that was maybe a bit too big or unwieldy for them, Aaron is taught how to operate God’s house.

This sense of purpose following hot on the heels of grief might not be unfamiliar. It is normal to face trauma, loss, or tragedy with renewed commitment to doing, being busy, not stopping. Keep Calm and Carry On, taught the British and printed it on many mugs, and we do so in our own lives. Terror attacks in Israel? Well we will keep doing, keep being, keep acting our Judaism in the world. We will not stop.

We also might redirect ourselves to making meaning of the loss. We remember what we had tried to build, what our loved ones had been trying to build, and we carry it forward in their name. The loss of so many lives, Jews trying to protect, dance in, love in, build loving families, in the land of Israel, rededicates us to the building of safe, joyful, thriving life in Israel.

Aaron, silenced by grief, what remember what he was building, along with his sons, and he must remember for himself and for all of Israel.

Churchill is held responsible for the quote, “Never let a good crisis go to waste”, and in some way it applies here too. Aaron, for the first time feeling viscerally the danger of God, the danger of severe judgment, and even perhaps the danger of living a life without forgiveness, when he himself must now somehow forgive God, is taught in our parasha the laws of Yom Kippur. It can feel trivializing to find a “reason”, or worse a “justification” for trauma, but there is an element of Aaron’s priesthood, his spiritual strength, his ability to run the dangerous operation of Yom Kippur, that was forged in his loss. He is someone new, someone who knows viscerally how to run a ceremony of forgiveness, atonement, and t’shuvah.

As we as a community attempt to strengthen and forge a new sense of wholeness, forgiveness, and purpose from our crisis, we turn to Aaron for example. And this Erev Yom Ha’Atzma’ut, as we transition with sunset from Israel’s Memorial Day, Yom Ha’Zikaron, into her Independence Day, we live a little bit of Aaron’s mission — to transform grief into building God’s holy place on earth. At B’nai Torah we will mark this transition by opening up a gallery of our photos and memories from our trip to Israel, Faces of Our People Israel. The gallery will stay in our lobby for a few weeks. Our opening will be a chance to hear stories live from trip participants, to hear how Israelis have at their core this lesson of Aaron’s resilience, to ask questions, and for all of us to gather together to mourn and to celebrate. May we too have the wisdom, and instruction, to forge out spirit and community anew.