Our very dear friend Joel Linsider, z”l, passed away this week. He was a person whose life was deeply intertwined with Torah texts, so that it seems significant that he left us on the week of this particular parsha, parashat Hukat, a parsha whose theme is death.
The parsha begins with the red heifer ritual, a procedure used to purify individuals contaminated by an encounter with a corpse. And it also includes, at its beginning, Miriam’s death, and toward its end, Aaron’s death.
What strikes me about these descriptions of death is that they are centered not on the experience of death for the one who is dying, but on the experience of death for those who remain. The red heifer ritual sets us up with this perspective: death has some effect on the living, some effect that must be ritually responded to.
The deaths of Miriam and Aaron are similarly framed. The ancient commentaries are quick to draw a connection between Miriam’s death and the Israelite complaint about thirst that immediately follows. Miriam’s death caused this complaint because Miriam, in her life, provided something that only she could provide and that therefore disappeared upon her death – a well of fresh water.
That’s what happens when someone dies--we are all left crying out in thirst; we feel as if a vital source of water has suddenly dried up. No one else can really quite provide in the same way. Moshe, in the story that follows, tries to get water out of a rock for the people. He succeeds, but in a clunky manner, hitting the rock instead of speaking to it, hitting it twice to make it work, . . . He just can’t do it the way she did; hers was a natural, regular flow.
When Aaron dies, we hear that the people cried for him for 30 days. 30 days?! The midrash explains that it is because of his special peace-making trait, that he was constantly involved in bringing people together, that the people cried for so long after his death. Another midrash notes that, as with Miriam, something difficult happens immediately following Aaron’s death – there is an attack by the Canaanites. What provoked their attack at this particular moment? The midrash explains that Aaron’s death caused the divine cloud of protection which had accompanied them up to this point to disappear; the Cannaanites saw this and attacked. This cloud, like Miriam’s well, only accompanied the people due to Aaron’s special merit, says the midrash; when he died, the loss was felt; his special contribution, his special ability to make peace and to bring God’s peace and protection into the camp, was suddenly gone.
When someone dies, we lose his special contribution to the world. Joel Linsider is gone. Like the people after Miriam and Aaron’s deaths, we are pained at the loss; we cry out in thirst for his special Torah, for his special way of being in the world.
Each person is an individual with a special gift he brings to the world – this is a point that makes life – each individual life -- worth living, but also makes it hard to lose any one special person in the world. May Joel’s memory be for a blessing. I feel grateful for the gift of his Torah and of his friendship to myself and my family and of his model as a person of humility, faith, intelligence, humor and integrity. His passing has left us with an unquenchable thirst for his company and his Torah.
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Joel Linsider is gone. Joel Linsider is gone. May his memory be for a blessing. Amen.
ReplyDeleteAn extraordinarily insightful interpretation of the parsha al derech haemet, beautifully articulated, and sensitively related to the passing of Joel Lindsider. Worthy of a grand prize!
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