Invisible Grief: How Aaron’s Silence Says More Than Words

We live in a society that is surrounded by constant noise. Advertisements. Music. Laughter. Yelling. Car honks and ambulances. “Breaking News!” “Buy this!” We are not a quiet society. Gregarious personalities are celebrated, while shy wallflowers are told to change and cast further into the shadows, forgotten about when they do not change. However, it is silence that reveals the most about the state of a person’s soul if we take the time to notice.

In this week’s Torah portion, Shmini, the tabernacle and its associated rituals are inaugurated and God reveals the Divine presence to the people. The people are in awe, praising God loudly, falling on their faces and shouting for joy at reaching this stage with God. Their excitement is loud, almost frenzied. Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, also ordained as priests, become swept up in the excitement and create personal offerings to God, against the set ritual God commanded of the priests. At once, God sends a fire forth to consume them and they perish.

Moses seemingly ignores the death of his nephews, also caught up in the noise and fervor of the celebration, looking around and telling Aaron, “This is what God meant by saying:
‘Through those near to Me I show Myself holy, and gain glory before all the people’” (Leviticus 10:3). Aaron, the Torah tells us, was silent.

Aaron was silent? Two of his sons died by fire and his response was silence? No one took the time to notice what Aaron’s silence was really saying:

I am hurting.
Everything around me is loud and celebratory, yet I am in pain.
People are moving forward without me.
Life is moving forward without me.
No one is noticing I have no words and no voice to cry out.

Aaron’s silence is a grief response juxtaposed to the noise and joy around him. For those of us who have experienced grief, loss, or low points in our lives we may have felt like Aaron. Like no one can hear the meaning within our silence.

Because we are one community, it is our responsibility to notice each other, especially those who are quiet. Quiet, of course, is not always a sign of pain. However, until we notice when those around us go silent, we may never realize what burdens people are carrying. As it says in the Talmud, “Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh.” All Israel is responsible for one another.

May we take time to notice those in our community who are quiet, silent, and alone. And may we be strengthened to reach out to them and share in their experience, to sit with them and uplift them.

With many blessings this Shabbat from my family to yours,
Ranata Shlobin