The Lunar Cycle - Shemini Hachodesh 5784

 One of the more shocking stories in the Torah is the story of Aaron’s reaction to the sudden death of his sons, Nadav and Avihu.   The Mishkan (Sanctuary) had been built.  Moshe practiced the service with Aaron, the High Priest, for seven days.  Now, on the eighth day, the first day of the month of Nisan, about a year after the Exodus from Egypt, Aaron performed the service.  The hoped-for miracle happened.   Fire came down from heaven and consumed the offerings.

The nation was ecstatic.  It’s hard to imagine the emotion of the moment - the realization of a dream of seeing Hashem’s revelation on earth.  Nadav and Avihu got so caught up in the excitement and spiritual fervor that they took incense and burned it, something that was holy, but not part of the planned service.  Their souls leapt out of their bodies and they died.

Now think about the impact on their father, Aaron.  At this momentous occasion, two of his four sons die right in front of him.  The Torah (Vayikra 10:3) tells us that “Aaron was silent,” and he continued the service as planned, without showing any signs of mourning.  This is truly remarkable, and the Torah is obviously acknowledging Aaron’s greatness, that he was quiet, accepting Hashem’s judgment without complaint.

There is much discussion amongst the commentaries about the significance of Aaron’s silence.  Was this denial?  Was it shock?  Did Aaron ignore reality and just push forward without feeling?  That is not healthy.  

One of our great sages, the Radvaz, who lived around 600 years ago, writes that he was asked about a father who had lost his son and had not shed a tear throughout the week of mourning, whether this stoicism was an admirable trait.  He answered that no, this is not a natural human reaction.  To cry for the dead is the behavior of righteous people.  

We can find a clue in what Moshe said to Aaaron, recorded at the beginning of the above-mentioned verse (Vayikra 10:3):  "This is what the L-rd spoke, [when He said], 'I will be sanctified through those near to Me, and before all the people I will be glorified'."  Rashi and others interpret this as Moshe saying that Aaron’s sons were so holy that they were defined by Hashem as “near me” and they sanctified Hashem’s name.  

Other commentaries, however, like Rashbam (Rashi’s grandson), say that Moshe was referring to Aaron himself, and this was an opportunity for him to sanctify Hashem’s name and teach the Jewish people how to deal with tragedy.  Of course Aaron felt grief, and in fact Ramban says that he initially cried bitterly, but when he heard Moshe’s words he set aside his grief and focused on the task at hand - to celebrate the day of Hashem’s revelation on earth.

This is a supreme standard that is not expected of anyone else.  Only the High Priest does not mourn a death for seven days.  For most people there is a cessation of work to cry and mourn the loss, and a gradual return to regular life.  But the message of Aaron’s silent acceptance of Hashem’s will, and his focus on continuing the service of revealing Hashem’s holiness, is a lesson for all of us.

While for Aaron it happened quickly and for the rest of us it takes longer, we sanctify Hashem’s name by accepting that He has a plan, no matter how hard it may be for us to accept.  Aaron’s silence tells us that he did not question, but also that he did not seek to justify or find reasons why.  It is not helpful to try to explain why a tragedy happened.  We grieve, we accept the sadness, and we accept that there is a Divine plan that we cannot fathom.  And we sanctify Hashem’s name, emulating Aaron’s holiness, by continuing to fulfill our G-d-given mission.

This is how we are able to move forward in the face of painful loss, and this is how the Jewish people have survived through unspeakable horrors and pain.  

We are in the midst of a tragedy right now.  We mourn the death of every individual Jew taken from us recently.  Our hearts are pained by the suffering of the hostages, the wounded and the bereaved.  We pray every day for the heroic soldiers, and for the people of our holy land and Jews around the world who are under attack.  

But we don’t throw our hands up in despair.  We continue to spread Mitzvot, to bring the fire of Hashem into the world, because that is our purpose, through thick and thin.

This lesson is also emphasized in the second Parsha we read this Shabbat, Parshat Hachodesh, the fourth of the special Parshas we read this time of year.  Parshat Hachodesh opens with the Mitzvah of establishing our calendar by the lunar cycle.  The month begins with the sighting of the new moon.  This is our monthly reminder that though the moon goes completely dark, the darkness will immediately be followed by new light.  This is the story of the Jewish people, which will culminate in the “full moon” of revelation and redemption by Moshiach.