April 9th: Shemini and Yom Hashoa
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Balance in life is often found in a creative tension, and such tension is certainly on display in our Torah portion this week. In Leviticus 10, we find a tragic scene where Aaron’s two older sons die while performing a sacrificial service. “Now Aaron’s sons, Nadab and Abihu, each took his fire pan, put fire in it, and laid incense on it; and they offered before the Lord alien fire, which God had not enjoined upon them. And fire came forth from the Lord and consumed them; thus they died before the Lord.”
They obviously do something wrong, but the text is rather ambiguous about exactly what it is. Is it simply that they go outside of the instructions? When we discussed this passage in Teen Torah, one of our students suggested that, since there are no witnesses—other than the deceased Nadab and Abihu, no one could report what exactly they do wrong. This is an excellent point, but we still wonder. One would think that the Torah would want to be specific and thus warn future priests what not to do, but we are left with a purposely ambiguous warning not to get creative with God’s instructions. Personal expression is part of life, but there are times when the prescribed details are literally a matter of life and death. This is Tension #1.
Tension #2 comes in the difficult situation of Aaron and his family. While obviously heartbroken, Aaron is prohibited from the rituals of mourning. “Moses said to Aaron and his (remaining) sons, Eleazar and Ithamar, ‘Do not bare your heads and do not rend your clothes…but your kinsmen, all the house of Israel, shall mourn the burning that the Lord has wrought. Do not go outside the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, lest you die, for the Lord’s anointing oil is upon you.’” (Leviticus 10.6-7) They must remain on duty. How many of us have experienced this kind of tension—caught between professional or leadership responsibilities and our personal or family concerns?
Tension #3 comes in our understanding of the deaths of Nadab and Abihu. It seems pretty clear that the young men do something wrong and are punished. However, there are those who wonder if that is indeed the case. What if theirs is a spiritual and ritual perfection—that they achieve a perfect connection with God and are simply absorbed into Infinity? In our earthly plane, we think in terms of this world, but, in God’s view, the real world is Olam Haba (The World to Come)—and Nadab and Abihu complete all the work and development assigned to them for this world: they reach human perfection and culminate their Earthly experience.
This kind of reinterpretation of earthly tragedies is a theme in some Hassidic stories. When a young person dies—or when a young couple is murdered during a pogrom at their wedding, some Hassidic rabbis speak of a kind of reincarnation. We are put on this earth to accomplish a specific number of things. If we finish them in our lives, then, when we die, we die—and enter Olam Haba. However, if we do not accomplish our assigned tasks, we are reborn and given opportunities to get them done. And, if we get them done—for example, if the young people had done everything else except get married, then there is no need for us to continue living. God absorbs us into Olam Haba; we are complete. Some Hassidic teachers speak of this kind of reincarnation happening up to three or four times. There is, in short, a tension between the allure of both this world and the World to Come.
This Hassidic notion of reincarnation inspires a curious theory about the victims of the Holocaust—the horrible Shoah / Catastrophe that we commemorate this week. Some have connected the large number of gerim/ converts over the last half century to the millions of Jewish people who were murdered by the Nazis and their collaborators. Since these people died before their time—with their souls’ work being incomplete, there were not enough Jewish families for these Jewish souls to be reborn. The result was that many Jewish souls were born into non-Jewish families and made the spiritual journey to return to Judaism. One cannot prove such a notion, but it does resonate with the sense reported by many gerim that they have always felt Jewish. Many report an affinity to Jews and Jewish culture that far predated their formal decision to convert. And, this possibility parallels the ancient Midrash which teaches that all Jewish souls—of all time—were standing together at Mount Sinai and hearing the voice of the Eternal One.
Our Tradition has been crafted from moments of both incredible brightness and utter darkness, and this is our Tension #4. We mourn the horrors that too many of us have suffered, while we also remember moments when God has broken through. How can we face the tragedies of life while remaining hopeful and prayerful and productive? That is the wisdom breathed into us by the All Knowing and Compassionate One: the possibilities of God are always present. Present in This World; present in Olam Haba. Present for us.