BEMIDBAR_NUMBERS I – IV,20
At the beginning of the fourth book of the Torah, God orders a census. Rashí reminds us that this is the third time a counting of the Hebrews will be made. A census of the people was taken the first time when they left Egypt. (The aforementioned figure of six hundred thousand adults, not counting children and women, was the cause of a controversy with Ben Gurion who argued that the figure was greatly exaggerated. On a recent visit to Havana, Fidel Castro also questioned this issue). After the episode of the Egel HaZahav, the “golden calf” our ancestors built when Moshe took excessive time to descend Mount Sinai, a census was also taken. And the census of our chapters coincides with the construction of the Mishkan, the desert Tabernacle dedicated to divine worship.
From the beginning of our appearance as a people on the pages of History we were told that we are few in numbers. In other chapters we are described as Hameat mikol haamim, the people with the smallest number of individuals. Therefore, in our national formative period we are taught to value quality, to appreciate individual merit. Everyone has to contribute to the development and add to the well-being of the group. Membership and identification follow Lemishpechotam, according to family origin. And over time it was translated into national characteristics.
At present we are witnessing the wear and tear of these origins, manifested by the lack of cohesion in the family nucleus. In Jewish tradition, family ties remain central and perhaps this is an additional reason to select episodes of the Torah about Avraham’s conjugal life for the biblical reading of Rosh HaShanah, the beginning of a new year and a very solemn day in our calendar.
The enumeration of the different families and the number of their members also includes the tribe of Levi that will not inherit lands after the conquest of Canaan. Levi’s descendants will haveto dedicate their lives to service, education, and worship. Aharon, the Kohen Gadol, had four children, but two of them, Nadav and Avihu, died in a strange episode. Aharon’s reaction to tragedy is sharp and enigmatic, but at the same time very sobering and deserves examination and reflection.
Previous chapters include Aharon’s reaction, by the expression Vayidom, asilence of resignation. Possible responses to disaster and death are varied. There are those who respond violently and rebelliously to the punishment imposed on an innocent son. And where do we find a father who doesn’t consider his son innocent? Who could then have criticized Aharon, inthis case, for questioning Divine justice?
The Talmud relates that two sons of Rabbi Meir died on Shabbat. His wife Beruria hid the tragedy from him. At the end of the holy day, Beruria asked her husband the following question. A few years ago, someone commissioned us to keep a treasure for him. Since it had been a long time without it being claimed, we came to consider that the treasure was really ours. But today the owner came to claim what he entrusted. What should I have done? questioned Beruria. Rabbi Meir’s response was immediate and unequivocal. You should have returned the treasure, he said. Beruria then took her husband to the chamber where the bodies of the two deceased sons lay. Years ago, Beruria said, God entrusted us with these two treasures and today He came to claim them.
The rationalization of Beruria can be categorized as a kind of Tsiduk HaDin, a testimony to Divine Justice. The low profile of Aharon’s reaction, on the other hand, does not necessarily have to be regarded as a spontaneous or thoughtless acceptance of the severe verdict. Shetikah kehoda´ah dami, silence is a demonstration of consent, when there is an alternative that can negate the situation. But when human beings are unable to alter the course of events, silence can also be interpreted in different ways.
Personally, I find in the silence of Aharon, as the seed of a serious critique of celestial failure. It is an active and violent silence, which hides repressed anger and fury. It is a silence of resignation, because of the helplessness of the human being in his encounter with the Supreme Being. It is an act of protest when faced with the intrinsic inequality between the participants in the tournament of life. It is a reaction similar to that of a Talmid Chacham in a concentration camp who refused to eat. I don’t want to eat because I don’t want to recitea Berachah, a blessing of thanks to God. I don’t know the proper language to express a claim against God, but I am not willing to justify His concealment and absence in the most tragic moment in the history of our people.
The death of a son forces us to discuss our role as parents. Aharon probably questioned his effectiveness as a role or teacher for his children? He could escape the feeling of guilt for what happened, for not having anticipated it or prevented it. Aharon’s silence probably manifests his questions and doubts about the relationship he had with his children.
Question: Why isn’t leadership hereditary? Any response has to take into account the fact that the person who devotes the bulk of their attention and interest to the well-being of the community generally neglects the needs, ignores the anxieties and concerns of those closest to him. The Vayidom of Aharon is a silent turning to his own inner self in order to examine his probable failure in fulfilling paternal responsibilities.
The Vayidom of rebellion and initial protest for the tragedy gives way, eventually, to the Vayidom of resignation, and the Vayidom of recognizing the limitations of the human intellect to understand the Tsiduk HaDin, theinfinite and absolute correctness of Divine Justice. On the cusp of a leadership trajectory and its power, Vayidom is the reassessment of an inflated human self-evaluation, an exaggerated self-esteem, when faced with the sudden death of a child.
Zushe was on the deathbed and his disciples noticed his sadness near despair. You have always taught us that we must gather in joy with the Creator, said those around him. After all the Mitsvot you fulfilled in your life, surely a privileged place awaits you in the Olam HaEmet, the “world of absolute truth”, his disciples claimed. But Zushe replied that his fear was not because he had not been able to reach the holiness of Patriarch Avraham or any other of the spiritual giants who left their personality imprinted on our spiritual character. Zushe’s concernwas that he felt that he had not been consistent with his own abilities, that he had not realized his own potential.
In the truly momentous moments of life, Vayidom is a recognition of having failed to live up to our potential. Vayidom forces us to admit the limited and reduced scope of our thinking to Sheelot HaNetsach, the questions whose answers belong to the realm of eternity, beyond our human and mortal perspective.
Nadav and Avihu’s death opens a new chapter in Aharon’s life. From now on he will probably be accompanied by doubt, an indispensable characteristic for leadership that must evaluate alternatives constantly. The promise of a Hereafter that promises eternal peace serves as limited comfort for the fate of the souls of the deceased children. The surviving parents must renounce part of the “joie de vivre”, of full taste for the delight of living and progressively take refuge, increasingly, in Vayidom, the silence that really is a partial evasion to face the tragic reality of death.