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April 1, 2005/Adar II 21 5765, Volume 57, No. 31
Anger gets in the way
Torah study
JESSICA E. LOCKETZ
Parsha Shemini, Leviticus 9:1-11:47
This week's portion begins with a tragedy. Two of Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, are killed due to the "alien fire" they present as an offering to God (Leviticus 10:1-2). Yet Moses forbids Aaron and his surviving sons to mourn their deaths. He commands them to proceed with the rites of the ordination ceremony. He reasons that by continuing on with the ritual correctly, other such travesties will be avoided (Leviticus 10:6).
When Moses realizes that the procedures have not been followed according to his instructions, he becomes furious. He demands to know why Eleazar and Ithamar have not heeded his words. All he can think about is the erroneous performance of the ritual, and his anger clouds his judgment. He chastises his nephews and brother for failing to do their job, when in reality it is he who is in the wrong.
How so? In his anger, Moses forgets the laws of mourning. Aaron and his sons could continue with the rituals of the occasion as they were asked to do. But they could not eat of the sacrifice, for as onanim, "mourners," they had to wait until their loved ones were buried. Their failure to complete their task, then, was not due to negligence; rather it was because of their status as mourners.
Once reminded of this, Moses "approves." In other words, he understands that the error is his. He speaks to the entire camp of Israel and says, "I made an error in the law, and Aaron, my brother, came and set me straight" (Vayikra Rabbah 13:1).
It may seem odd that Moses's mistake is so openly revealed in the text. And yet it is not surprising that Moses is held accountable for allowing his temper to get out of control. There is a reason that he is not let off the hook for his behavior. Moses is meant to be an example. By not omitting the shortcomings of an important figure such as Moses, we are able to learn from his mistakes.
Moses's anger teaches us about our own. It leads us to ask about ourselves: How often do we let our own anger get in the way of our judgment?
When our anger blinds us to the reality around us, we discover, just as Moses did, that misdirected anger can alienate the people around us. Anger can ruin our relationships and even ourselves if we let it. Yet our tradition cautions us not to let this happen. We learn that it is neither good nor healthy to let our anger get the best of us. We are told to "remove anger from your heart" (Ecclesiastes 11:10) and that "a person must train himself or herself to be gentle" (Babylonian Talmud, Taanit 4a). To do so means to be in control of our emotions. In that way, we practice the midah or "virtue" of erech apayim, of being "slow to anger," of not letting our anger get the best of us.
What does it mean to be slow to anger? It does not mean denying our anger. Rather it implies learning to be less reactive, to literally slow our anger down. It encourages us to avoid "flying off the handle," "losing it," or "going ballistic." Being slow to anger means not bursting out with hurtful accusations or exploding with rage. Slow to anger means just that - taking time before reacting, and attempting to respond in an appropriate way.
If Moses had been slow to anger, he might not have erred in judgment. He might have remembered the laws of mourning and understood why Aaron and his sons acted as they did. He might have saved himself the embarrassment of admitting to the entire community that he was in the wrong. Who knows what disasters we can avoid if we become slow to anger? If we can train ourselves to slow down, we can remove the anger from our hearts.
Jessica E. Locketz is the associate rabbi and temple educator at Temple Emanuel of South Hills in Pittsburgh. Torat Chayim of the URJ is at www.urj.org/torah.
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