Cantor's Blog

This is the D'var Torah that Cantor Fogelman offered on July 8, 2022. She uses wisdom from the week's Torah portion, Chukat, to offer ways we can take action in the wake of the Highland Park July 4 shooting. 

The past couple of weeks have been marred by many different types of loss: the loss of 21 young school children in Uvalde, Texas, the loss or reproductive freedom, and the loss of innocent people celebrating our nation’s independence at a parade in Highland Park.

This week’s Torah portion, Chukat, also deals with death and loss. We read about the deaths of Moses’ siblings, Miriam and Aaron, and learn about rituals for purification after encountering a dead body. We also read the famous story of the extreme drought that the Israelites suffer in the desert and their loss of a water source. God instructs Moses to speak to a rock in order to bring forth water for his people. Instead, he impatiently strikes the rock, and is subsequently forbidden from entering the land of Israel.

Commentators theorize that the water source dried up upon Miriam’s death, suggesting that Miriam was intricately connected with the well, which was necessary for the sustenance and survival of the Israelites and the desert. Without Miriam, the Israelites – and, more specifically, Moses – were at a loss. Moses’ impulse of striking the rock could have come from grief over the loss of his sister and the fact that he did not get the chance to properly grieve her absence. The Torah merely mentions Miriam’s death and immediately transitions into the verse about the lack of water. No Shiva, no grief, no space – and Moses is surrounded by angry Israelites who are blaming him for their suffering and lack of water.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes that Moses was very close to Miriam. In addition, the Talmud gives her credit for the water: The well was given to the Jewish people in the merit of Miriam... When Miriam died the well disappeared... “And there was no water for the congregation” [Numbers 20:2]. Perhaps, in his bereavement, Moses could no longer cope with crises and had to yield leadership?

Rabbi Lisa Gruschcow agrees: “Not mourning Miriam was a mistake with many consequences. It is a double loss for her family and her people. Not only are they missing her wisdom... but also they are missing the opportunity for healing and reflection that mourning can bring.”

         In contrast, when Miriam and Moses’s brother Aaron dies later in the Parsha, his death is handled much differently. Numbers 20:22-29 reads:

“God said to Moses and Aaron, ‘Because Aaron defied My word at the waters of contention at Kadesh, Aaron shall not enter the Land that I have given to the children of Israel. Aaron and his son, Eleazar, shall be brought up to Mount Hor. There, Aaron shall be divested of his garments and his son dressed in his priestly garments. There, Aaron shall die.’ And it happened just as God commanded.

Gruschcow notes: “This could be understood as sexism: all too often, the Miriams among our leaders are passed over in both life and death, while the Aarons get the glory. This may well be true. But it is also true that we can find a learning curve in this parashah, as the Israelites learn to navigate death.”

Indeed, the parsha continues by describing the extended mourning period the Israelites held for Aaron, perhaps after realizing that the immediate transition into tension and conflict following Miriam’s death did not serve anyone well.

“When Moshe and Eleazar descended from the Mount Hor, the entire community saw that Aaron was dead and the entire house of Israel wept for Aaron for 30 days.”

Thirty days are what we now know in the Jewish calendar as the period of Sheloshim. After a death, the first period of mourning, shiva, lasts a week. During shiva, which represents the first seven days after burial, mourners traditional stay home and receive guests to offer them comfort. A mourner then transitions into the sheloshim period, which is inclusive of shiva. This period is designed to allow the mourners to get over the shock of the death. The mourners return to work after the first seven days, but other restrictions remain, such as refraining from attending weddings, dances or parties.

I often say that the Jewish rituals surrounding death and mourning are some of our smartest rituals. They are designed to help us adjust to the various stages of grief we encounter upon the loss of a loved one. We take baby steps as we approach a new normal.

But the losses we’ve experienced over the past few weeks are quite different. They affect us deeply – as parents, as Jews, and as Americans – but we are not obligated to observe the traditional mourning rituals as a response since they did not affect members of our immediate family.

So how do we respond?

The Highland Park shooting was particularly jarring to me from a personal standpoint. I spent three years living in Milwaukee, just an hour north from the scene of the crime. I’ve spent lots of time in the synagogues in the surrounding towns of Chicago’s North Shore, a heavily Jewish community not unlike our own Westchester County. I have many friends and colleagues in the area and watched the events unfold via friends on social media even before the story was picked up by the New York Times and CNN. One of my friends from Milwaukee’s dad attended the parade. He had eaten brunch at a restaurant beforehand, and realized that he forgot to take his leftovers with him. He made his way back to the restaurant to gather his food, and was inside when the shooting began. His forgetfulness kept him safe from the carnage. Another friend’s mother made it a point to attend the parade every year. She missed it this year because she had tested positive for COVID – it’s hard to imagine a situation where COVID actually helps to save a life, but here we are.

The news became even more upsetting as the stories of the victims and their families unfolded. I saw the photo of the little boy who had been separated from his parents posted on Facebook by several of my Chicago and Milwaukee-area friends, and was devasted to learn that both of his parents were killed in the tragedy. I saw clergy colleagues crowd source to find the top pediatric spinal surgeon in the country to help an eight year old boy who might never walk again. Just when you think it can’t get any worse, the world finds a way.

In Judaism we have a term called “Sinat Chinam” – baseless hatred. The events on Saturday were no doubt committed in the name of baseless hatered. Rav Kook offers one way we can respond to acts of “Sinat Chinam”: “If the world were destroyed, and the world with us, due to baseless hatered, then we shall rebuild ourselves, and the world with us, with baseless love – ahavat chinam. Like we sang at the beginning of the service, we must build our world from love – and doing so starts with action. 

My colleague, Cantor Stefanie Greene, grew up in Highland Park. One of the victims, Jacki Sundheim, was the events and B’nai Mitzvah coordinator at North Shore Congregation Israel, the synagogue that Cantor Greene grew up at. She was a synagogue staffer just like our own beloved office team. Cantor Greene was married in their sanctuary just a few weeks ago. Jacki was the one who opened the sanctuary doors for her, spread out her train, and sent her down the aisle. “Jacki was just filled with so much joy for me on our big weekend, and checked in to ensure that the seats she saved for my family at were good for them and that I had everything I needed,” she wrote on Facebook.

         Cantor Greene addresses the difficulties of grieving an event that hits so close to home, incorporating Jewish values into a plan for action.

“When a tragic event and losses like this occur, it can be challenging when you are sad and feel grief, but you are not the direct family and don't know how to feel, or what to do,” she writes.

“Here's the good news: in Judaism, there are two things that you can DO- right now! One is to give tzedakah (charity) in honor of the person who was lost.”

            She goes on to offer links to some of the many GoFundMe accounts that were created to help families affected by the tragedy. I’ll share some of these links on my blog next week.

You can give directly to the family in this GoFundMe. The family has also requested donations in Jacki's memory to NSCI and to the HP Community Foundation. Links here:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/jacki-sundheim?story=false...

https://www.nsci.org/track.php...

https://www.nsci.org/track.php...

“The second thing you can do, is say Tehillim, or Psalms. This is a collection of poems of praise, lament, gratitude, longing, etc. There are several psalms (23, 16, etc) which pertain to end of life and mourning.”

So tonight, we’ll end with a Psalm – in this case, Psalm 121, Esa Einai – I will lift my eyes to the hills, from where will my help come? My help comes from God, maker of heaven and earth.” But before we do that, I want to add that there are a few more things we can do in the aftermath of this tragedy. We can learn from Moses and make the space and take the time to grieve. This will help us respond with love and not with anger – striking a rock will not bring forth the changes our world so desperately needs. But once we take that time, we can get up, we can rally, and – most importantly, we can vote.