Parshat Shemini: Tragedy, Purity, and the Power of Emunah

Dedicated in memory of Leah, Maya, and Rina, who were murdered Al Kiddush Hashem; the brother and sister lost in the recent floods; and Yaakov Ben Avraham Eliezer of Antwerp, a man who continues to inspire through his legacy.

May this summer be filled with blessings and healing for Am Yisrael.

When Silence Speaks: Aharon’s Unfathomable Pain

Parshat Shemini opens on a climactic day: the inauguration of the Mishkan. The Shechinah is about to descend, a moment long awaited since Creation. And yet, amidst the joy, tragedy strikes. Aharon HaKohen loses two sons—Nadav and Avihu—on this most sacred day.

The Torah tells us, "Va’yidom Aharon" – "And Aharon was silent." That silence speaks volumes. It reflects profound emunah and acceptance of Hashem’s will, even when His ways defy understanding. Just as we struggle to comprehend the tragic deaths in our time, we’re reminded through Aharon's silence that everything Hashem does is just—even if it’s hidden from us.

"Vayehi B’Yom HaShemini": Why Sorrow on a Joyful Day?

The parsha begins with the word “Vayehi”, which the Sages associate with distress. Why use a word of sorrow for such a joyous day?

Because Nadav and Avihu, despite their righteousness, were taken from this world. Hashem’s message was clear: the Mishkan represents extreme holiness, and one must approach it with awe, preparation, and purity. Even the greatest tzaddikim are held to an extraordinary standard.

As Moshe told Aharon, “Through those closest to Me, I will be sanctified.” Moshe thought this applied to himself or Aharon, but when Nadav and Avihu were chosen, he realized they were on an even higher spiritual level. Their deaths became a korban—an offering sanctifying the Mishkan for all generations.

Preserving the Purity of Pesach

This parsha always follows Purification After Pesach. Why? Because after achieving a spiritual cleansing through matzah and Haggadah, we are now taught to preserve that elevation by guarding what enters—and exits—our mouths. That’s the core message of Parshat Shemini and its focus on ma’achalot assurim (forbidden foods).

The matzah wasn’t just physical nourishment—it was refuah, a spiritual remedy. Now, we are called to continue that journey of refinement through kashrut and pure speech.

Sefirat HaOmer: Building Toward Revelation

We don’t just count the Omer; we build it, day by day, like stacking bricks toward Har Sinai. The word “Matmonim” (treasures) is beautifully decoded by the Sages: Mem-Tet = 49, and "monim" = counting. Every day is another step toward Torah, another treasure unearthed.

As Pirkei Avot reminds us, which we begin reading this week: “Drink the words of the Sages like a thirsty soul.” The thirst must grow stronger as we approach Matan Torah, for this is the purpose of our redemption.

Why We Must Guard What Enters Our Mouth

In Sefer Vayikra, Hashem begins His laws of holiness with food. Before purity of speech or childbirth or tzara’at, we are told: Protect your body, for it houses your neshama.

Insects, for example, might not spiritually harm a non-Jew, but we are different. We are Bnei Melachim—royalty. Just as royalty is held to higher standards in behavior and diet, so too are we. Every mitzvah reflects Hashem’s divine knowledge of what nourishes our soul.

The Gift of Dignity: A Story of True Greatness

Let me share a story I often repeat, because it bears the weight of timeless truth.

A Yerushalmi contractor once saw his competitor’s entire home possessions being auctioned off by the authorities. Without hesitation, he bought everything back, paid the driver to return it, and had it placed exactly as it was before. He told no one.

Later, his competitor discovered the truth and told him: “You didn’t just save my belongings. You saved my family, my dignity, my will to live.”

Years later, the first man reflected: “Maybe that’s why Hashem gave me so much nachas. Not because I did something extraordinary—but because I protected another Jew’s dignity.”

The Omer Challenge: Respect and Unity

As we count the Omer, we remember the students of Rabbi Akiva who died during this time because they lacked respect for each other. “Lo nahagu kavod zeh b’zeh.” These days demand we treat others with dignity, empathy, and compassion.

We are Am Echad b’Lev Echad—one people with one heart. Let’s live that truth. A smile, a kind word, a gesture of understanding—it can redeem someone’s world.

May We Merit True Redemption

As we walk this journey from Pesach to Shavuot, from physical redemption to spiritual acceptance, may we do so with hearts open to Torah, mouths purified by restraint, and lives elevated by respect for others.

May Hashem bless us with clarity, compassion, and the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days.

With all my love from Yerushalayim,

Rebbetzin Chavi Golovenshitz