When the siren sounds in Israel at 11 am on Yom Hazikaron, everything stops. Nary a household is without loss. Nary a household is without pain. The memories of loved ones struck down in faraway wars and recent battles flash through the entire country. The pain is so immense it is difficult to fathom. This year it is almost unbearable. The cries of the hundreds lost on October 7, and the hundreds lost in the days since, the cries of the hostages, resound and resound across the hills and valleys of the Holy Land.
Given the indescribable pain our people have had to endure throughout its history, is it any wonder our traditions try to shield its most important leaders from some of the suffering. In this week’s Torah portion, Emor, we learn that the priests, and most especially the High Priest, are prevented from attending funerals of even their most direct relatives. Why? I always assumed it was a precautionary measure to protect their physical wellbeing from diseases that could be spread through dead bodies, but I have come to realize it is about their spiritual wellbeing as well. The exposure to so much loss, could permanently harm them. But can anyone really be fully protected from that type of pain? No matter how much we try to keep our kids away from the hardships of life, there is absolutely no way to fully insulate them. We felt this globally on October 7, and we felt this locally on May 14th, the second anniversary of the Tops massacre. If anything, insulating ourselves from such suffering, prevents us from fully healing.
The answer that our tradition eventually settled on is not to ignore the pain, but to embrace it. The long sound of the siren on Israel’s Memorial Day, the ceremony on Har Hertzel, and the recitation of Mourner’s Kaddish, are all ways of helping our people cope with our tragedies. The dead remain with us in powerful ways. It is their brave spirits that helps us face anything that may come our way.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Alex