Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Poor Leiby Kletzky, angels weep for his soul.

This young Hassidic boy was recently murdered a few days ago. Yesterday his casket was carried into a synagogue for his funeral service that was held in Brooklyn, which was attended by thousands of mourners.

It’s every parent’s worst nightmare come true. Leiby’s family feels a pain that penetrates the heart of God Himself in Heaven. But how does a community make sense of something that is so senseless and numbing? It is one thing to hear about an adult who is kidnapped and murdered, but when a young boy is the victim, we cannot express in words the sense of loss everyone feels. It doesn’t matter who you are, or what ethnic group you belong to, or what religious beliefs you may subscribe to.

Leiby’s death also strikes home because we know that it might have happened to any of us. This death might have under different circumstances been your child, your niece, your grandchild, your neighbor’s child. But what can anyone say? How does one explain this tragedy to one’s children?

Does Jewish tradition offer any kind of therapeutic response or wisdom? Are there any stories in the Bible that might offer some degree of solace and direction to a family that suffers?

THE PRISON OF SILENCE

Semites grieve much more openly than Europeans. If you have ever attended a Arab or Sephardic funeral, the shrilling sound of crying is unforgettable. Semites do not behave stoically like their European counterparts.

The death of children occurs in several biblical narratives, e.g., the death of Judah’s two sons, Er and Onan (Gen 38:1-10); the “supposed” death of Joseph (Gen 37:34); the death of David and BatSheva’s son (2 Sam. 12:18-24); the death of Absalom (2 Sam. 19:1), and the death of Job’s children (Job 1:19-22).

In the interest of brevity, we will focus on (1) the death of Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Abihu—both who die from an unexpected explosion as they were serving God (2) the death of Absalom, (3) the loss of Job’s children.

With regard to the former, the biblical narrator says in but a couple of words the reaction of Aaron: וַיִּדֹּם אַהֲרֹן (wayyidöm ´ahárön) “And Aaron was silent” (Lev. 10:3). Nowhere does the biblical narrator provide us with a sense of what Aaron must have been feeling. Did he blame himself? Was this God’s pay-back for when he made the Golden Calf?

While the law forbids a High Priest to mourn, on the surface, Aaron’s reaction is consistent with the office he has dedicated his life to. On the other hand, it is also feasible that Aaron simply cannot react—even though he wants to. The senseless death of two young men leaves him with no simplistic answers. To decipher Aaron’s response, we must read in between the lines and look for clues.

Among the Hebrew words for silence “dumah” stands out as a term associated with Aaron’s grief and loss. Dumah denotes: astonishment, numbness with grief, lifelessness, being stone-like, a feeling of being cut off, the sensation of terror, and lastly—the silent yearning for hope.

DAVID’S RESPONSE

David’s reaction appears in one of the most famous passages of the Tanakh. After David emerges victorious in his battle with Absalom, his son, David asks one of his loyal servants whether Absalom was safe from harm, “But the king asked the Cushite, “Is young Absalom safe?” The Cushite replied, “May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rebel against you with evil intent be as that young man!”The king was shaken, and went up to the room over the city gate to weep. He said as he wept, “My son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son!” (2 Sam 18:32-19:1).

Nothing else is said about David’s poignant reaction. He too, like Aaron, probably feels guilt-ridden that he could have prevented his son’s death, if only . . . Like Aaron and David, most parents would gladly sacrifice their lives so that their children might live.

CONTRASTING JOB AND AARON

Whereas Aaron’s silence is pierced with a divine visitation by God, Job is not as fortunate as Aaron. Job’s own silence and the silence of God, threatens to destroy him. Compounding his problem is the fact that his three friends condemn Job’s sinfulness as the root cause for his children’s untimely death. Job is fed up and angry, for although he offers the platitudes of faith (Job 1:21-22), he is mad as hell at God, at his community for not giving him proper support, and at himself for not preventing his children’s death.

Job’s own personal and psychological resurrection will not begin until he verbalizes his pain to both his God and his friends and only then will Job will find release from his suffering. Although Job praises Job’s opening complaint is unforgettable:

 

God damn the day I was born!

and the night that forced me from the womb

On that day-let there be darkness;

let it never have been created;

let it sink back into the void.

Let chaos overpower it;

let black clouds overwhelm it;

let the sun be plucked from the sky . . . .

Job 3:3-5 (Stephen Mitchell’s translation)[1]

Job can no longer act as if everything’s OK, because it’s not. Once he finally speaks about his pain, only then does he eventually find some meaning to his suffering.

Job teaches us about the importance of verbalizing pain. Suffering must find a voice that will allow a sufferer to speak openly about the pain. Silence in the face of monstrous evil is akin to death itself. There can be no healing unless people and communities verbalize and identify their pain.

BREAKING FREE FROM THE SILENT WORLD OF PAIN

For the Hassidic and Ultra-Orthodox world of Borough Park, Brooklyn, the community must come together and verbalize their pain and loss.

Questions like, “Are there any lessons at all that can be learned?” or “How does any community prevent these kinds of tragedies from happening?” are only the opening salvo for a discussion that must be publicly discussed for all to see, hear, and understand. Talking about the problem can help prevent it. The conspiracy of silence affecting traditional religious communities must come to an end.

Here are some other practical suggestions that a community might consider implementing or at least discussing:

• Do not assume that just because people live in an austere religious community that they are immune to the problems of pedophilia. It affects all social classes, ethnic groupings, and religious communities.

 

• Religious communities must take a much stronger stand against the pedophiles living amongst them. There is a tendency for community leaders to believe that such individuals can be helped and possibly cured of their psychological illness.

 

• Rabbinical leaders should reemphasize the prohibition of yichud, no adult male should be alone with any child without (1) the door being open, (2) or preferably, another adult ought to be present during a lesson. A number of years ago, a well-known cantor in Upstate NY lost his job for fondling a bat mitzvah girl; I know of several other similar stories. Clergy would be wise to always have a parent present whenever teaching a child. As clergy, we must subscribe to the highest degree of professionalism.

• Sex education in the religious schools and the yeshivot would help young people recognize the dangers of pedophilia. Such a change in the religious communities is necessary.

• Parents must caution their children: DO NOT TALK TO STRANGERS and NEVER TAKE A RIDE FROM A STRANGER

• Expose the pedophiles living among you. Give them no rest. Like the lepers of old, this group really needs to live far away from any kind society that has children living nearby.

• Cars picking up children in schools ought to have special stickers indicating they have a right to pick up a child.

Over a year ago, I taught a course at St. Ambrose University in Davenport, IA on the Seven Deadly Sins. In one of the sessions, we looked and discussed new variants for the Seven Deadly Sins that were proposed by the Vatican, which included: (1) genetic modification, (2) human experimentation (3) polluting the environment (4) social injustice (5) causing poverty (6) financial gluttony (7) taking drugs.

It is striking the Vatican did not include abortion among the seven. But even more surprising is the fact the Vatican did not mention crimes against children—not just those who are unborn, but especially for those who are already born. Such a statement would have made a serious contribution and show a modicum of repentance for the pedophilia scandal that has decimated the Catholic Church and its communities. Orthodox religious communities have been doing cover-ups for decades-and I suspect this travesty has been going on for countless centuries. Thank God we are living in the age of the Internet, where pedophiles can no longer hide their deeds from the community.

Lastly, the Orthodox and non-Orthodox communities must address this social problem from the pulpit—even if the topic makes some people feel uncomfortable. This is a subject that must also be addressed in the religious schools. When the community makes it a decision not to tolerate deviant behavior in its midst, perhaps we will live to see the day when violence against children will never occur again because the community will not give sanctuary to perverts living in their midst.

 

Notes:

[1] Stephen Mitchell, The Book of Job (London: Kyle Cathie Limited, 1989), 13.