Shemini: Something to say?

Dvar Torah:  Shemini

Something to say?

Malaysia airlines flight MH370 took off from Kuala Lumpur on March 8.  Now, thirteen days later, there are no significant developments in the search, only a few potential clues. 

The silence in this case is overwhelming.  Satellite images show signs of a few pieces of floating debris.  Air and ship crew look out windows, watch radar, and lower buoys into the water.  Shrines and vigils appear in different forms.  There was silence in the way that the authorities in Malaysia were lax in checking passports.  Silence as different countries in the region seemed to be napping when it came to regular surveillance.  Except for the anguished cries of family members pleading for information, there is a great deal of silence – silence that is a reminder for us here in the US of another day, not 13 days ago, but 13 years ago.

Far from the tragic events of 9/11 and the disappearance of hundreds on a commercial airplane, we contend with silence.  Silence is increasingly difficult to find.  The cell phone buzzes even when the ringer is off.  The town siren wails.  The radio blares.  It is difficult to find a moment or place of real silence, not just the absence of sound but silence as an opportunity to think deeply, to process, to hear what our hearts are saying.

Our ancestor Aharon, Aaron, brother to Moshe, first of the high priest of Israel becomes silent after flames from heaven consume his two sons Nadav and Avihu at the altar.  Putting aside for a moment why they suffer this fate, Aaron’s reaction is, “Vayidom Aharon,” and Aaron was silent. 

Aaron receives praise for his silence.  Rashi explains that Aaron then merits God speaking to him directly, but Rabbi Lipman of Radomsk once told the Rebbe of Kotzk that King David received a greater reward since at the time of David’s suffering he was not silent.  As we say every morning in Psalm 30, “Le’ma’an yezamercha chavod velo yidom!”  “That we will sing Your glory and not be silent!”  Even at a time of pain and suffering, David was able to sing to God.  And let’s not forget the immortal words from Kohelet, “There is a time for everything….a time to be quiet and a time to speak.”

Notice here that David’s choice to break the silence does not come as a result of discomfort.  We’ve all been there.  It’s the elevator, or the car ride, when a silence falls and we need to break the apparent discomfort of the silence with something, anything.  With David, he breaks the silence with something significant, praise to the Source of Life.

For all the silence that we need in our lives – silence from constant connection and communication, silence from the bombardment we get from breaking news that too soon turns out to be incorrect, silence from all the distractions that lead us away from our priorities and what is most important to us.  For all the silence we need, we also need to learn, and relearn, when and how to speak and speak up. 

While I respect Aaron’s moment of silent shock, I do not accept that he had nothing to say.  In our postmodern world, I cannot accept that his mind was blank.  What did he want to say in that moment? 

What would have been constructive and helpful to say to God in that moment?  To say to Moses? To Miriam? 

And when we do speak and speak up, we know that not only the words we say but the way we say them is so significant.  How can we express real emotion without letting emotion take over?  How can we express ourselves thoughtfully and logically without separating ourselves from what makes us frail, human, and non-robotic?

When we stand with our ancestor Aaron in his moment of distress, we stand with our fellow human beings – friends and family of flight MH370 who stand in shocked silence, and wonder what we will say, what we will do, to transform silence into meaningful words – but not only words – in Hebrew the word for ‘word’ also means thing, action, idea.  We see that when our machines, and other powers, fail or when evil people use machines and human powers to inflict pain on people, words alone cannot repair the damage, but words and actions together just might bring healing. 

Shabbat Shalom.