Carrying the Grief
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
“It is not the weight you carry
but how you carry it—
books, bricks, grief—
it’s all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.”
Mary Oliver, from “Heavy”
This week another weight was added to the grief we already carry, as we learned of the tragic murder of two young people, Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim, outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C. We know you may be feeling some combination of sadness, anger, fear, anxiety, and Rabbi Rachel and I are here to support you - we are just an email away if you’d like to reach out.
When hearing news of death, Jews respond with a blessing: Baruch dayan ha-emet, blessed be the true Judge (or the Judge of truth). When we feel shattered, unable to access our normal sense of reality, we send out a prayer that there is an Awareness of what is real and good and true beyond what currently feels true of our experience.
At the heart of the Torah portion this week, Behar-Bechukotai, we find a series of threats and promises. There are eleven verses that promise blessing, and thirty-six verses that threaten curses, all depending on how well the Israelites live up to their covenant with God. Despite the lopsided attention to curses over blessings, the binary strategy of stick and carrot comes through quite clearly.
I can understand these verses as an ancient attempt to incentivize right action. The blessings offer a vision worth yearning for - “I will give peace throughout the land, so that you will lie down with none to make you tremble…” (Vayikra 26:6). The curses paint a picture of the consequences of not collectively getting it right - “All the days of desolation [the land] will rest, since it did not rest during its Sabbaths when you were settled on it” (Vayikra 26:35).
But these days the language of blessing and curse doesn’t so much feel like it redirects us towards the middle path of collective conscientiousness, but towards the blame and catastrophizing of hyperpolarization, where no matter what the curse is, it's because of what the “others” are doing. The blessings will (or should) come only to those who adhere to “our” point of view. By naming extremes, these blessings and curses are easily co-opted for partisan purposes.
Extremism paves the path to violence. Rabbi Jill Jacobs, who spearheads the Jewish justice organization T’ruah, writes:
T’ruah has warned repeatedly that violent language can lead to violent action — and we’ve seen that ugly pattern recur both in the region and at home, from all sides. As the Book of Proverbs teaches, “Death and life are in the hands of the tongue.” (18:21) It is not surprising that the violent language that has proliferated since October 7 — including justification of the murder of Jews and Israelis, the dehumanization of Israelis, and calls to “Globalize the Intifada” — have led to someone apparently taking up arms to murder two young people leaving a Jewish event at a Jewish museum. We encourage leaders on all sides of the political spectrum to condemn this brutality, to call out incitement, and to make clear that violence is never the way.
As we mourn, we also fear this tragedy will be manipulated by the far right to criminalize all criticism of Israel in the name of fighting antisemitism. We have to continue to be clear about the difference between antisemitic attacks like this and valid criticism of Israel and Israeli policy — something Israel is subject to just like any other country. Violence such as the horrific murders last night is antisemitic and must not be excused through any political justifications. For a deeper dive into this topic, consult T’ruah’s resource: “Criticism of Israel and Antisemitism: How to Tell Where One Ends and the Other begins.”
Yet there is another way to be extreme. In the prayerbook there is a section called Birchot HaShachar, the Morning Blessings (notice how living Jewishly means offering blessings all the time, not just waiting to receive them…) Within this series of prayers the rabbis placed a text from the Talmud (Mishnah Peah 1:1 followed by Talmud Shabbat 127b), which breaks every rule of moderation that characterizes so much of Jewish wisdom.
Eilu devarim she-ein lahem shi’ur… These are the things for which there is no fixed measure, which you can never do in a way that is too extreme…
Honoring one’s father and mother.
Engaging in chesed, kind deeds.
Arriving early to study (both in the morning and the evening).
Welcoming travelers.
Visiting the sick.
Showing up for happy occasions (literally: celebrating with the wedding couple).
Accompanying the dead for burial.
Delving into prayer.
Mending relationships (literally, bringing peace between a person and their friend).
And studying Torah.
When you do any of these things, you can stretch your soul and tend to your heart, exercise your mind and build community with others. You can carry the weight of books, bricks, and grief. In a world of the big stories of blessings and curses, of catastrophes and redemption, these humble actions inoculate us from despair and orient us towards the sacred practice of living generously with each other.
Shabbat shalom!
Rabbi Jay LeVine
