Why were Nadav and Avihu, two of Aaron’s sons, killed? The Torah states their deaths occurred when they brought an esh zarah (foreign fire) into the Temple (Leviticus 10:1). But what was the nature of this fire?
Some maintain that because the prohibition against drinking is found in the sentences that follow their deaths, the fire alludes to the possibility that Aaron’s sons served in the sanctuary while intoxicated (Leviticus 10:9; Vayikra Rabbah 12:5).
Others insist that the fire relates to their being “hot” in deciding halachic matters themselves without consulting Moses. Note that the preceding sentence stresses the leadership role of Moses and Aaron (Leviticus 9:23; Eruvin 63a).
It may be that offering many answers indicates that none are sufficiently compelling. That is, we cannot comprehend the reason Nadav and Avihu’s actions mandated death. Only God can grasp the unfathomable; we cannot.
This perplexity may explain why the Torah tells us that the Lord spoke to Moses immediately after the death of Aaron’s two sons (Leviticus 16:1), which teaches that, despite the suffering of sufferings, the horror of untimely ghastly deaths, dialogue continues. God tells Moses to speak to Aaron, detailing the laws of the high priest on Yom Kippur (16:2–28). In fact, this may be the central point of the Nadav and Avihu narrative. Although Aaron does not understand why his sons died, he and the priesthood continue to serve God.
In other words, in times of challenge, rather than ask “Why?” a better question is “What now?” “Why” relates to the past, which cannot be undone; it is philosophical, concerning which God understands and we do not. “What now” is a future-oriented, pragmatic query that we, on some level, can control.
Not only should we ask, “What can we do about it?” but we should ask, “What will God do about it?” God gives us inner strength to overcome, to do things we never thought we could.
Sometimes I think there are no great people in this world – only great challenges. Faced with these challenges, God from above helps us to do the impossible. And as God is limitless, so are we, created in the image of God, given the strength to reach toward limitlessness.
And perhaps, just perhaps, if we gain a sense of what God does for us in helping us move forward, we will then be emotionally better equipped to ponder – if we wish – the insoluble question of why: Why did it happen in the first place?
When confronted with inexplicable suffering, we all ought to remember the words of Esther Wachsman, mother of Nachshon, the young Israeli soldier murdered by Arab terrorists in the early 1990s. Asked how she continued on, Esther, paraphrasing Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, said, “I had to ask myself, will I be a victim of my fate, or will I initiate a new destiny?”
This idea has helped me face many challenges in my life. The motto I strive to live by is never allow what you cannot do to control what you can do.
Candle lighting:
Acharei Mot-Kedoshim parsha
April 28 at 7:33 p.m.
