As the war in Israel presses on, we awaken almost daily to the tragic news of more precious young people being lost to their loving families in the prime of their lives.
It is not enough for us to consider this for a moment. We may feel that we can fulfill the requirement of empathy by taking note of the other’s challenge, acknowledging it, crying, consoling, and moving on. But that does not do it because for the newly bereaved parents the issue is ongoing. Their grief is now a part of their “life.”
This idea is poignantly highlighted in this week’s parashah (Vayikra 26:42), where G-d promises, V’zacharti et briti Yaakov, v’af et briti Yitzchak,v’af et briti Avraham ezkor, v’haaretz ezkor. “I shall remember my covenant with Yaakov, and also my covenant with Yitzchak, and my covenant with Avraham I shall recall.” The presentation is a bit difficult, as it uses the term “remembrance” explicitly regarding only two of the three Avos (patriarchs). The Sages (see Rashi there) explain that in the case of Yitzchak, G-d did not need to recall him, as his ashes lie piled permanently before Hashem. One does not need to “remember” that which is present.
It is an unusual statement, but perhaps we can readily see it as a simple reciprocation from G-d. Avraham was willing to offer his only and beloved son to G-d. That would make him a bereaved parent. A bereaved parent carries their child with them wherever they go, all the time. Yes, at some point after shivah, after shloshim, after the first year, they get back to themselves with G-d’s help. They do not stop living. They continue, they function, they work, they converse, and even smile. But there is a hole that can never be filled, a void that exists forever. And so, G-d simply says: if Avraham was willing to sacrifice his son, if he was willing to carry that loss with him every day for the rest of his life for My sake, then I will carry that readiness, his commitment to Me, with Me, every day forever.
Hashem knew what that challenge would mean for Avraham. He knew that it was not a moment of sacrifice, an act that would be “one and done,” or even one that would require a period of recovery. Hashem knew that this sacrifice would be something that Avraham would have to live with every single day. “Tzavur u’munach l’fanav.” Constantly present before his eyes.
It is important that we absorb this. For those farther away from the loss, zikaron, memorials, and commemorations are needed. But for the bereaved families, their grief is a presence rather than a memory. We must be mindful that while we may have moved on, they do not. And we must appropriately extend ourselves to continue to recognize what they have given for us, for Klal Yisrael, and continue to support and appreciate them in their grief.
Rabbi Moshe Hauer is executive vice president of the Orthodox Union (OU), the nation’s largest Orthodox Jewish umbrella organization.