And Aaron Was Silent: Finding Faith, Meaning, and Peace in Times of Loss

“And Aaron Was Silent” This was Aaron’s response after his two sons, Nadav and Avihu, died — on the very day of the Mishkan’s dedication. In the merit of this inner silence, and accepting the Divine judgment with love, he was granted prophecy and many blessings. Lekach Tov writes that this response is expected of every Jew: 

Our minds grope for a reason for the tragedy, and our hearts ache over the terrible loss. But at the same time, on a deeper level, we sense that beyond our ability to understand there is a God-given purpose to our pain. That faith is the very silence God asks of us.
How can we develop this inner strength? Perhaps the verse hints: “Therefore the wise… will be silent.” Understanding Divine providence, and trusting that all His deeds are for the good, is what truly enables us to be silent.

No Questions

The Chazon Ish expressed a penetrating truth about the inner recovery of those who suffered devastating losses in the Holocaust, in one sharp line: “For those who have faith, there are no questions. For those who lack faith, there are no answers.”

The faith he spoke of is not blind; it is a deep, thoughtful faith rooted in the foundations of Jewish existence.

David Hamelech, who tasted nearly every form of suffering, said of himself (Tehillim 131:2): “Surely I have stilled and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is with me like a weaned child.”

He was calm and at peace — like an infant in its mother’s arms, because of his great faith and trust that God watches over him and acts for his good even more than he himself does.

“I Didn’t Ask — and They Didn’t Call Me…”

When the aged tzaddik Rabbi Shimon of Yaroslav was asked what merited him long life, he smiled and said: “When trouble strikes, people often cry out in protest: ‘Why me? Why did this happen to me?’ And then they are answered from Heaven: ‘Come up here, and we’ll explain…’ As for me, despite all the terrible troubles that befell me, I never asked ‘why.’ And so, they did not take me before my time.” (Ohel Shimon, p. 17)

No Evil Descends from Heaven

The Talmud (Pesachim 50a) teaches: “The World to Come is not like this world. In this world, upon good tidings one blesses, ‘Who is good and does good’; upon bad tidings one blesses, ‘Blessed is the True Judge.’ But in the World to Come, all will be ‘Who is good and does good.’”

The Tzelach explains that in the next world, when a person looks back on the troubles of this world, he will see how they were truly for his good. He will realize that even for the “trouble” he should have recited “Who is good and does good.” What seemed tragic and bitter was, in truth, only for the good. No evil descends from Heaven; all — absolutely all, is for the good.

The Chofetz Chaim would say: If something happens to a person, one must not call it “bad,” only “bitter.” Medicine can be bitter yet beneficial. Calling it “bad” contradicts the rule that all is for the good — and it is also untrue, for it was done for a person’s ultimate benefit.

The Best Manager

Two simple Jews once sat before Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, lamenting their lot. The Rebbe asked: “If you were running the world, how would you do it?”

One said, “I’d make sure there were no rich and poor — everyone would have equally.” The other said, “I’d abolish all wars and establish peace between nations.”

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak replied: “And I would do exactly as things are now — under God’s management. There is no doubt that all the deeds of the Blessed One are truly good and perfect. It’s only that we lack the knowledge and understanding of the Heavenly calculations.”

The Mosaic

“The judgments of the Lord are true; they are righteous altogether.” (Tehillim 19:10)

The Chofetz Chaim explained: When can we recognize that God’s judgments are true? Only when we can see the entire system. If we could gather all the facts “together,” we would understand how just His judgments are.

The Sages (Berachot 7a) taught: When Moshe asked, “Show me Your ways,” he sought to know why there is a righteous person who suffers and a wicked person who prospers. God answered: “A righteous person who suffers — [he is] the son of a wicked person; a wicked person who prospers — [he is] the son of a righteous person.”

A Midrash illustrates: Moshe saw a spring. A weary traveler drank there and forgot his purse. A second man came, drank, and found the purse, and then left. A third came, drank, and lay down to rest. Meanwhile, the first returned to search for his purse, saw the third man, and demanded it. The third knew nothing; in anger, the first killed him. Moshe was bewildered: Why did the innocent die, while the other gained the purse? God said: “You don’t know the past. The first man’s father once stole that purse from the second man’s father; now the son has recovered his inheritance. And the third man’s father murdered the first man’s father; now the son’s blood has been avenged.” Moshe's mind was calmed.

Only when the entire mosaic is visible can we grasp God’s governance. We see just a stone here and a stone there out of thousands; from so few pieces we perceive only a sliver of Providence. When we merit to see the full mosaic — known only to Him, we will behold how radiant and shining are His righteous judgments.

The more we think and observe, opening our eyes to God’s providence in our lives, the more fragments of that Heavenly mosaic we discern of the One who “directs His world with kindness and His creatures with compassion.” The mosaic is vast; human sight is small. Thus we must admit: “God is in heaven and you are on earth; therefore, let your words be few.” (Kohelet 5:1)