The Jewish People’s Undying Connection to the Land of Israel
5 min read
The long-awaited day had arrived. Elisheva beamed from inner joy. She’d eagerly anticipated this auspicious moment. Her pious husband and each of her sons were about to reach a great milestone. Just imagine the excitement felt by Elisheva while watching them approach the holy Mishkan. The sanctity was palpable. With profound gratitude and inner pride, she observed their every step.
Aharon, the Kohen Gadol, High Priest, entered along with his sons. But shortly after, the unfathomable occurred: his oldest sons, Nadav and Avihu, suddenly were struck by a Heavenly fire, and they died.
Commentators propose various reasons as to why this calamity took place. Rather than consider the why, let’s focus on some lessons that can be learned from Aharon’s response to this tragedy. His reaction to his sons’ shocking deaths was beyond words: “Va’yidom Aharon—And Aharon was silent.”119 To most of us, such a silence is unimaginable. How does a parent remain silent upon watching the untimely demise of a child, let alone two children?
Perhaps such silence is far more powerful and expressive than mere words. Let’s explore a relevant lesson, pertinent to our generation.
Remaining silent and accepting inexplicable loss requires inner fortitude fueled by emunah, faith. Emunah is an inner certainty that goes beyond its usual translation as “faith” or “belief.” Emunah is expressed by acting upon what you know.
Aharon and Elisheva didn’t ask, “What did we do wrong?” or “God, why have you punished us like this?” They didn’t blame God—or themselves. This is emunah in action. The Torah is replete with stories of the pain experienced by parents from their children. Righteous individuals such as our Patriarchs and Matriarchs were not exempt from this kind of suffering. Any parent who has lost a child, physically or even spiritually, knows this terrible pain. It may subside, but it’s always there.
We cannot understand why certain things happen, but we can accept that this is so. Self-recrimination and senseless regret compound the inevitable pain. Emunah can assist you to fight the natural tendencies to place blame on yourself or others. Stop trying to figure out what you’re not meant to know. Only God truly knows why; alas, we are not God.
The Hebrew word emunah usually is translated as “faith” or “belief,” but it actually expresses so much more. Emunah means faithfulness and allegiance to what you know. More than just a theoretical concept or idea, emunah is an action or practice. This faithfulness to what one knows is actualized when one needs it most. Emunah enriches your resilience in the midst of great struggle, crisis, or personal loss. Another word related to emunah is the Hebrew word for training—imun. Faithfulness is the product of training. The Israel Defense Forces’ (IDF) term for military training is imunim—a derivative of emunah.
Emunah isn’t limited to the belief in your mind. It’s acted upon, con- necting mind and body with actions. Emunah can be likened to a staircase. Intellectually, you may know that the stairs go up to the next level, but until you climb the stairs, you won’t actually experience that next level. Martin Luther King expressed this when he said, “Faith is taking the first step, even when you can’t see the whole staircase.”120 Believing, or even knowing, that the stairs are there is not enough. You have to climb the stairs. Faithfulness is when our actions correspond to our knowledge or beliefs.
We’ve all heard the adage “Practice makes perfect.” The skill of professional athletes and musicians is the product of continual hours of intensive training and practice. Such training becomes ingrained and visible when called to action. It’s the same with emunah.
The emunah of our ancestors strengthened them throughout seemingly insurmountable struggles. When the tribulations of life have stretched your limits to the max, you can feel that you have no more to give. But there’s still so much more expected of you. You may think to yourself, “Will things ever let up? How much more can I take?” You wonder why this is happening. At times like these, it’s time to call upon your reserve of emunah. Fight the urge to find someone or something to blame. Instead, go outside and look up at the sky. The sky is above and beyond you. The “why” is as well! Emunah is expansive and endless. Gazing up at the sky can teach us this lesson. It’s always there, hovering above us; our emunah should be likewise.
We have an inherent desire to understand and thus seek explanation. But some things are beyond our understanding and seem inexplicable. We can’t assume that children will continue to uphold the beliefs and values modeled by their parents. Many a child does not mature into who or what their parents had toiled to produce. Silence is often the loudest—and best—response. It doesn’t mean that you won’t cry or bemoan your pain and loss. However, a guilt trip won’t help you, or anyone else. It’s senseless.
Emunah is predicated on an unyielding faith in God’s providence. It can empower us to transform pain into ongoing purpose. Each of us needs to establish and maintain a personal emunah account and make regular deposits into it. Emunah is a spiritual insurance policy, ensuring that you’ll have the means to carry on. As a beacon that illuminates new pathways in the midst of crisis, it must be perpetually charged.
