Dear Friends,
“The LORD spoke to Moses after the death…” (Lev. 16:1)
A vital feature and concern of most religious and ethical systems is how to speak after the death of an individual or of persons. Religious systems which are theologically based make that conversation a link between the deceased and the deity, as does normative Christianity. Others which are naturalistically based offer a tie between the deceased and nature’s reservoir of lives and souls, as does Hinduism. And, others, like Judaism which is humanistic in its thanatology, focusses its conversation on the psyches and relationships of the grieving.
This is germane today due to the confluence of our Torah portion this week, and that today, itself, is Yom HaShoa, Holocaust Commemoration Day.
How we speak after death is our concern this day – moreover after genocide – the attempted murder of our people. For 75 years, the Jewish community and the larger community have been trapped in needing to speak about the most unspeakable. Elie Wiesel (of blessed memory) taught that the word “Holocaust” should burn the tongue which utters it. Yet, Wiesel also preached that we cannot remain silent in the face of evil, or in the wake of death. I dare say that Wiesel is rolling over in his grave, if not roiling in his grave, over the vicious and vile Russian atrocities currently destroying lives in Ukraine.
Thus, we seek the language to speak after the death… In Torah, our portion is referencing the deaths of Aaron’s two sons a few portions earlier, who were killed when they drew too near to the presence of God. The episode is deeply troubling for its apparent injustice, but more: our Torah and our Tradition espouse an abiding reverence for life, and cannot countenance its summary and seemingly inexplicable destruction. In that episode, Aaron stood silent, wordless.
Perhaps his silence was a reminder that sometimes after death, one cannot speak. And then, it takes a few Torah portions later, or a few days or weeks, or 75 years, to find the words or the will to converse again. Hence, “The LORD spoke to Moses after the death…”
On this Yom HaShoa, may we find words of remembrance, justice and hope.
With Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
“The LORD spoke to Moses after the death…” (Lev. 16:1)
A vital feature and concern of most religious and ethical systems is how to speak after the death of an individual or of persons. Religious systems which are theologically based make that conversation a link between the deceased and the deity, as does normative Christianity. Others which are naturalistically based offer a tie between the deceased and nature’s reservoir of lives and souls, as does Hinduism. And, others, like Judaism which is humanistic in its thanatology, focusses its conversation on the psyches and relationships of the grieving.
This is germane today due to the confluence of our Torah portion this week, and that today, itself, is Yom HaShoa, Holocaust Commemoration Day.
How we speak after death is our concern this day – moreover after genocide – the attempted murder of our people. For 75 years, the Jewish community and the larger community have been trapped in needing to speak about the most unspeakable. Elie Wiesel (of blessed memory) taught that the word “Holocaust” should burn the tongue which utters it. Yet, Wiesel also preached that we cannot remain silent in the face of evil, or in the wake of death. I dare say that Wiesel is rolling over in his grave, if not roiling in his grave, over the vicious and vile Russian atrocities currently destroying lives in Ukraine.
Thus, we seek the language to speak after the death… In Torah, our portion is referencing the deaths of Aaron’s two sons a few portions earlier, who were killed when they drew too near to the presence of God. The episode is deeply troubling for its apparent injustice, but more: our Torah and our Tradition espouse an abiding reverence for life, and cannot countenance its summary and seemingly inexplicable destruction. In that episode, Aaron stood silent, wordless.
Perhaps his silence was a reminder that sometimes after death, one cannot speak. And then, it takes a few Torah portions later, or a few days or weeks, or 75 years, to find the words or the will to converse again. Hence, “The LORD spoke to Moses after the death…”
On this Yom HaShoa, may we find words of remembrance, justice and hope.
With Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
