We’re holding on, Tatteh. Listen to the hespedim, listen to the anguished voices as they praise You

The heart clenches when bad news is shared, shutting tight and refusing to acknowledge what it is hearing.

But when the news is good, the air joyous and festive? Then the heart expands and opens wide, ready to take it all in.

And then, when the heart is so open, the bad news that comes hits like a hammer blow, for it goes straight in.

It’s happened before. The Mishkan was complete and the Shechinah hovered and the joy was tangible and the world was perfect and just like that, Aharon HaKohein, center of the simchah, lost his two sons.

Hearts were open, and the bitter news rushed in.

But vayidom Aharon. In his silence, he bequeathed his nation a response to the worst tragedy.

The simchah was so great last week, the sound of clarinets wafting down the mountainside and across the Jewish world. What a year we endured, and how we waited for this, for this moment, for this dance.

The Shechinah was there.

And once again, our open hearts were flooded with the worst sort of pain.

More than three thousand years after Aharon imbued us with that gift, we stood still, a nation, a family, shuddering in grief.

But then came words. Abba, al tikach li ha’emunah. Tatte knows better. We don’t ask questions. He has His cheshbonos.