Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog

Well before the Geneva Conventions gave humane guidelines to war, the Torah told us that we fight a war in order to win safety for our bodies, but be sure not to lose the sanctity of our souls. The Torah even prohibits the unnecessary destruction of fruit trees that may inhabit the battlefield.

War is hell. And a soldier is supposed to worry about fruit trees?

A soldier on the battlefield needs to have his basest instincts at full throttle; his life depends on that. Yet even the engaged warrior, muscles tensed and blood pumping, needs to stay conscious of his higher moral values,; he need to consciously set peace and nurture as his ultimate objective. He needs to leave the battlefield no less human than he entered it.

War is hell, but soldiers shouldn’t be the devil.

So how do we respond to the gruesome massacre that happened in Jerusalem yesterday? Two monsters with meat cleavers attacking worshippers at prayer? Victims left with mutilated bodies, still adorned with Tallis and Tefillin? The attackers’ families, friends and community members celebrating and distributing candies?

Is there any culture that can call this behavior human? I only hope that Muslim leaders here and abroad will call this barbarism by its rightful name. And I pray that the heroic IDF manages to contain any such attacks in the future.

But what can I do? What can we do? We can raise our voices to increase the public outcry. We can pressure our elected officials to make sure the US holds the PA and Hamas responsible.

And, especially in a time of darkness such as this, we can bring more light to the world through Mitzvos. I think we should continue the Mitzvah that Rabbis Goldberg, Kupinsky, Levine and Twersky began so peacefully early Tuesday morning, the Mitzvah of Tefillin.

They were laid to rest today, so they couldn’t lay Tefillin today.

But we can.

Their heads and arms can no longer wear Tefillin, but we can be their heads and arms by laying Tefillin in their honor. They can no longer recite prayers, but we can be their mouths.

This Sunday, Chabad will have a “Har Nof Tefillin and Tefilah” at 8:15am. We’ll gather to lay Tefillin and recite prayers in defiance of the beasts who would cut down all Jews, G-d forbid.

Come in and bring some light to the gruesome darkness.

Death is sad. It’s difficult to lose someone close.

At the same time, death often has a positive effect on how we view someone. We seem to crystallize the good of a life lived, remembering them that way for posterity.

Human beings are complicated. Every personality has some good and some not-so-good. Idiosyncrasies and quirks.  That complexity sometimes creates static that obscures the good one brings to the world. Sometimes life’s overlay distracts us from seeing a person’s core goodness.

But death seems to blow that all away. When someone is on their deathbed, his/her shtick is irrelevant, so we tend to see their goodness distilled for clear viewing. We seem feel that death brings a life to its sum total, so there’s no need to focus on every line of the equation.

That’s why there’s a eulogy. An authentic eulogy doesn’t say anything false. It doesn’t embellish or exaggerate the good. It’s simply a crystallized look at a life lived, and the goodness which the deceased brought to this world.  

In this week’s Torah reading, our matriarch Sarah passes away and Abraham responds by “eulogizing her and weeping for her.” Sarah was an incredible woman and Abraham knew that better than anyone. He knew what he’d lost, and certainly that was enough reason for him to weep.

Yet the Torah gives us a sequence: He first eulogized, and then wept.

As much as we know someone’s admirable traits, as much we love them, we’re not always focusing on the goodness that’s laced into their broader, busy lives. We see them in their totality, warts and all. But death seems to shift our perceptions. 

When Sarah passed away, we can be sure that her loving husband immediately felt the pain and mourning. Yet Scripture tells us that it was only after ‎Abraham's eulogy that he began to cry. 

So here's a question for us: Why do we need to wait for death to gain this clarity of perspective?

We can ‘eulogize’ people when they’re alive and well? We can look at our loved ones,  seeing beyond all the chaff that accumulates on life, and bring their beauty into sharp focus?

It just takes some effort.

Until G-d finally eradicates death from the earth, the natural course of events will eventually have us all eulogizing with tears.

But we can change the course and ‘eulogize’ a loved one who’s perfectly healthy.

Eulogize with a smile.