Mima'amaqim
Shir haMa'alos: Mima'amaqim qarasikha Hashem
A song of ascents: From the depths, I call You, Hashem
I've written a number of essays about tragedy from the perspective of philosophy and theory. But there are times when it simply isn't the right approach.
What do you say to someone who is in the middle of facing profound tragedy? A friend of mine recently lost his teenage daughter. You pay a shiv'ah call. What's the right thing to say? Is there a right thing to say?
Rav Nachum ish Gamzu would face every challenge and disappointment with "Gam zu letovah -- this too is for the good." Similarly Rabbi Aqiva, who studied under Rav Nachman ish Gamzu, said, "Everything the All-Merciful does, He does for the good." Everything has a role in Hashem's grand scheme. If it occurred, it has a good and positive outcome.
Very nice in theory. But how can a holocaust survivor, someone who lost his entire family, who saw children sent to the crematoria, possibly be asked to embrace this idea? How can parents bereft of their beloved daughter be told "everything has a plan, it's really for the best" and not feel that the explanation is both emotionally cold and intellectually dishonest (as Rabbi JB Soloveitchik put it)? Particularly since rare is the glimpse that we finite humans get into the infinite and Absolute Divine Wisdom.
We find the same phenomenon in the book of Iyov. The book opens telling the reader the reason for Iyov's future woes. The Satan, the challenging angel, believes that Iyov has mastered the art of serving G-d from plenty, and needs to learn how to serve Him even in the face of poverty and adversity. Yet Iyov goes through one disaster after another, seeks their meaning, and never finds one. The book closes with Hashem telling him that the search is futile, "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the world? Tell, if you know the understanding!" (Iyov 38:3) Knowing the reason exists is a far cry from either being able to understand it or embrace it.
The word "aveilus" is translated "mourning". Etymologically, though, it's a form of the word "aval -- but". Aveilus is a time when none of the answers make sense; the aveil says, "I know that Hashem has his reasons, but ..." When my wife and I lost our infant daughter, a recurring question in my mind was, "Yes, but why me?" Aveilus is a state where the gap between our knowledge and our hearts is acute and the chasm of pain impassable.
So what does someone do when they find themselves "walking in the valley of Deathshadow"? If it's not the right time for explanations, what does one say?
The standard formula is "May the Omnipresent comfort you amongst the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem." The message is that first, G-d is everywhere -- He is with you in your pain. And second, you are not a single person suffering alone.
Shir hama'alos -- What is the song of ascents, the means of lifting up from the pit of despair?
"From the depths I call you, Hashem." "Qarov Hashem lekhol qor'av, lekhol asher yiqra'uhu be'emes -- Hashem is close to all who call Him, to anyone who truthfully calls Him." (Ashrei; Tehillim 145:18) Calling out to Hashem from the depths of one soul and the depths of despair brings Him close.
At the very moment that one is grappling with "Why me, G-d?" one is calling out to Hashem with unadulterated honesty and the core of one's being. The sufferer is seeking a personal relationship with the A-lmighty. A tragic period in our lives is a unique opportunity not to explain Hashem, but to come close to Him. Not seek explanations, but to be warmed by his embrace.
A song of ascents: From the depths, I call You, Hashem
- Tehillim 120:1
I've written a number of essays about tragedy from the perspective of philosophy and theory. But there are times when it simply isn't the right approach.
What do you say to someone who is in the middle of facing profound tragedy? A friend of mine recently lost his teenage daughter. You pay a shiv'ah call. What's the right thing to say? Is there a right thing to say?
Rav Nachum ish Gamzu would face every challenge and disappointment with "Gam zu letovah -- this too is for the good." Similarly Rabbi Aqiva, who studied under Rav Nachman ish Gamzu, said, "Everything the All-Merciful does, He does for the good." Everything has a role in Hashem's grand scheme. If it occurred, it has a good and positive outcome.
Very nice in theory. But how can a holocaust survivor, someone who lost his entire family, who saw children sent to the crematoria, possibly be asked to embrace this idea? How can parents bereft of their beloved daughter be told "everything has a plan, it's really for the best" and not feel that the explanation is both emotionally cold and intellectually dishonest (as Rabbi JB Soloveitchik put it)? Particularly since rare is the glimpse that we finite humans get into the infinite and Absolute Divine Wisdom.
We find the same phenomenon in the book of Iyov. The book opens telling the reader the reason for Iyov's future woes. The Satan, the challenging angel, believes that Iyov has mastered the art of serving G-d from plenty, and needs to learn how to serve Him even in the face of poverty and adversity. Yet Iyov goes through one disaster after another, seeks their meaning, and never finds one. The book closes with Hashem telling him that the search is futile, "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the world? Tell, if you know the understanding!" (Iyov 38:3) Knowing the reason exists is a far cry from either being able to understand it or embrace it.
The word "aveilus" is translated "mourning". Etymologically, though, it's a form of the word "aval -- but". Aveilus is a time when none of the answers make sense; the aveil says, "I know that Hashem has his reasons, but ..." When my wife and I lost our infant daughter, a recurring question in my mind was, "Yes, but why me?" Aveilus is a state where the gap between our knowledge and our hearts is acute and the chasm of pain impassable.
So what does someone do when they find themselves "walking in the valley of Deathshadow"? If it's not the right time for explanations, what does one say?
The standard formula is "May the Omnipresent comfort you amongst the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem." The message is that first, G-d is everywhere -- He is with you in your pain. And second, you are not a single person suffering alone.
Shir hama'alos -- What is the song of ascents, the means of lifting up from the pit of despair?
"From the depths I call you, Hashem." "Qarov Hashem lekhol qor'av, lekhol asher yiqra'uhu be'emes -- Hashem is close to all who call Him, to anyone who truthfully calls Him." (Ashrei; Tehillim 145:18) Calling out to Hashem from the depths of one soul and the depths of despair brings Him close.
At the very moment that one is grappling with "Why me, G-d?" one is calling out to Hashem with unadulterated honesty and the core of one's being. The sufferer is seeking a personal relationship with the A-lmighty. A tragic period in our lives is a unique opportunity not to explain Hashem, but to come close to Him. Not seek explanations, but to be warmed by his embrace.
posted by micha @ 11/10/2005 10:32:00 PM
