Making sense of the sedra: Pinchas

Last week, my congregation, Cranbrook Synagogue in Ilford, held an exhibition entitled Eternal Embrace.  This exhibition, created by Ifat Peer, presented photographs and texts of mothers who lost children on and directly after October 7. The mothers described their love for their children, and the heartbreak that they experienced when hearing the terrible news. 

The exhibition was held over a few days, including Shabbat. One of my congregants asked me whether it was permitted to show such a sad exhibition on Shabbat, which should be a day of joy. The Halachah requires mourners to set aside their mourning on a public level on Shabbat by wearing smart clothes. It is a day in which we sing that “sadness and sighing should disappear”.  Should we, I was asked, invite others to see such a heartbreaking exhibit on this day?

There is no doubt that the photographs and texts were heart-rending. No parent should ever have to lose a child. Yet, there was also something poignant and beautiful. Without exception, the mothers all mentioned that they established charities or initiatives, whether it was the writing of a new Torah scroll or opportunities to study music, as a way of memorialising their loved ones.

In this week’s parsha, Pinchas, we read about trauma and comfort. One of the elements that the Jewish people both in the diaspora and in Israel need after October 7 is comfort. Without feeling comforted, we are tethered to the past, without being able to move into the future. At the same time, moving into the future can be perceived by some as a betrayal to the memory of those who have been lost. That leaves us in a double-bind – being unable to move forward and unable to stay within trauma and pain.

Judaism provides a nuanced approach to this double-bind. We don’t let go of the past. We take every painful memory and we convert it into something positive and constructive in the future. When a loved one passes away, the words of our prayers are clear: “It is forbidden for us to forget our memories”. We take the memories of all those loving moments and use them as a spur for positive relationships with each other and with God in the future.

This is not an easy task, but with God’s help it can be achieved.  We tell mourners: “May the place (God) provide you with comfort”. God is referred to as the “place” because he contains the entire world. In psychological terms a container is someone who ‘contains others’ –  who helps manage those difficult feelings. A container doesn’t just listen; he or she emotionally holds what you’re feeling, making it feel safer and more manageable. We ask God to be that container for the bereaved, allowing the bereaved to feel safe after the sadness they have experienced.

The stories of these mothers were emotionally wrenching, but at the same time they were – and are – redemptive. They show us the nature of healing and growth. They instruct us how to move forward in our lives when every instinct within us wants to stay in a traumatised past. This lesson should be taught on any day – even on Shabbat. It is the key to all Jews moving confidently into a future, taking the pain of the past, and transforming it into a structure of care and love.

Rabbi Dansky is at Cranbrook Synagogue