Doit |

A most unusual situation occurs in the Tora, Chapter 10 of Vayikra (the third book), the weekly portion called Shmini.

Aharon’s sons, for reasons that are totally unclear, decide to bring fire and incense to the Tabernacle. And, they, themselves, are consumed.

Why they did it and why it led to their deaths is only conjecture. But, the reaction of Aharon was clear cut. When he was informed of the act and the death of his children, it says “Vayidom Aharon”, Aharon was totally silent.

Now, there is another expression that could have been used. It could have said “Vayishkot Aharon”, Aharon was quiet.

There is a vast difference between those two word choices. Often, when we are confronted with actions or events that confound or annoy, we are quiet. We have reactions, but either think better of voicing the words or want to better collect our thoughts.

But, to be silent (in the terms of the Hebrew expression, ‘dmama’), it means we have no words to convey our thoughts. We are dumbfounded.

And, that was the reaction of Aharon. He was totally dumbfounded. Moreover, since there were scheduled events that were critical to the nation, Aharon was not permitted to participate in a normal mourning period.

In my religion, that involves an intense 7 day period. Sitting on hard chairs, staying in one’s home, and being comforted by one’s friends and relatives. (This is called Shiva- which means 7.) Shloshim, the first 30 days, is less intense (no more being secluded in one’s home or sitting on hard chairs). Followed by 10 more months plus one day (creating the symbolic year) of mourning- no music, no theater, and reciting the Kaddish (which affirms one’s belief in the power and magnificence of the Supreme Being).

I followed those customs for my mom and my dad. Long ago. And, this past November, one of my friends, Doit Shotts died. Doit’s children had died when they were very young, and for the past dozen years or so, he was the primary caretaker for his wife, Marion, who suffers various ailments.

When I was told Doit died, I was dumbfounded. Dmama. Because he had already lost his children… and, to be honest, I always expected Doit to outlive his wife, Marion.

Doit and Marion were most gracious to my youngest son, Daniel. And, Doit (and Marion, when she was well) was active in our community, helping to raise funds and awareness for various institutions, and was what folks would call a “mentsch”.

So, when Doit died, I knew that I would say Kaddish for him. Because his wife (who only had a 30 day obligation) would be unable to come to services for him. And, his children were not in the picture.

It’s my way of honoring his memory and to let others know that folks can make a difference in this world. And to insure that the difference Doit wanted to make in this world was and will be noticed.

Yitgadal, v’Yitkadash shmeh rabba.