Parashat Shemini

By Judah Rosenstein

At the start of this week’s parasha, Aaron and his sons are instructed to bring a burnt offering on behalf of themselves and the entire nation. Sometime after that ritual was completed, the text tells us that two of Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, brought an offering to G-d which they were not instructed to do, and fire came forth from the altar, consuming both of them. The Torah records that Moses immediately voiced a reaction to the deaths, but that “Aaron remained silent.”

This year, I travelled to my sister’s home in Connecticut for the Passover Seder. It was a nice day for driving, and I was singing along to the radio, thinking about things I had to do when I got there, and things I had to do when I got home. About twenty minutes from her house, Waze indicated that my highway exit was approaching. That’s when something peculiar happened; for no apparent reason, I turned off the radio. I mean, I’ve heard of people turning off the radio when they get lost, which itself is a bit inexplicable, but I wasn’t lost, and I wasn’t going to be lost. I laughed at myself for a few seconds, which only added to the peculiarity of the scene, but then decided that it might be nice to keep the radio off.

Picture it. There I am, alone in the car, sitting in silence; just me and my thoughts. For a while, it remained awkward and uncomfortable. Whether we focus on it or not, there is always noise around us, both literal and figurative. Reflecting back on it now, however, and in light of Aaron’s example, I’m so glad I did it. Sitting there in silence allowed me to get clarity on a number of things that desperately needed clarity, and it reminded me that silence brings the power to create opportunities for personal growth and an increase of positivity in this fast-paced, noisy world.

As it relates to this parasha, I imagine that Aaron wanted to cry out in the face of his two sons’ deaths; that would have been a normal human reaction. In fact, our rabbis highlight that, at the end of the very same chapter detailing the deaths, Aaron does not hesitate to display his anger and frustration when Moses questions the manner of sacrifice from Aaron’s surviving sons, Elazar and Itamar. Yet, in the first instance, “Aaron remained silent.” His example should be a strengthening lesson for us all.

As we live the hustle-bustle of our daily lives in a constant “act or react” mode, periods of silence are often taken as a sign of weakness. As a non-practitioner of silent meditation, I must rely on my tacit understanding that it helps turn one’s energy inward, in order to focus on betterment of self. The lesson we can take from Aaron has more to do with the value contained within unplanned periods of silence; nights when we eat dinner alone, when we “work from home” with no one else around, long drives when we decide to just turn off the radio for no apparent reason…. Unlike purposeful, structured meditation, those times present an opportunity to better our understanding of what we truly want out of life, and to remind ourselves of what we actually need and how to get it.

Although Aaron must have felt anger, frustration and maybe even resentment after experiencing the death of his two sons, his silence should not be taken as a sign of meekness or unconditional faith. Rather, it reminds us that taking time to silently reflect on our lives is a steppingstone to making it better. And, on a societal level, much of what separates us can be traced back to the external “noises” of life that threaten to distract and disrupt. When we tap into our true essence, using the power of silence and stillness to push negative external forces aside, then we can move that much closer to contentment and true harmony.