Sorry I haven't written in a while. I've been working hard at Temple Adas Israel in Sag Harbor. Here's a sermon I gave this past Friday:
30 days, 12 hours, and 30 minutes. That’s how long William Henry Harrison served as the president of the United States. As legend has it, Harrison came to office on a cold and wet March 4th day. Known for his tough persona, he left his hat and coat inside and delivered the longest inaugural address in the history of the United States, over 2 hours. Needless to say, Harrison caught pneumonia and died soon after.
Immediately following his death, America faced an important question. Who would be the next president? Article two of the constitution is vague. If a president dies the constitution makes it is clear that his vice president, in this case, John Tyler assumes presidential responsibilities. However, what is not clear is whether Tyler would be the new president or the acting president until an emergency election is held. Following the death, lawmakers made a mad scramble to figure out what would happen. After some hard fought battles, it was decided that Tyler would become the new president of the United States. Even on his deathbed, William Henry Harrison had not prepared for his succession and the next generation of leaders had to pay for this oversight.
Why begin a sermon with this story tonight? Besides the fact that it’s the fourth of July weekend, the story shows just how hard it is to get one’s house in order before one makes a transition. Harrison’s story deals with death, but people struggle similarly with preparing successors after moving up in a job or even handing their children over to a new babysitter for the evening. With everything to think about, how can you adequately prepare and guard those after you for the challenges that lay ahead.
Our Torah portion this week, Chukat, gives us two models of transition, one good and one poor. Parshat Chukat contains two deaths, first Moses’s sister Miraim dies, then Moses’s brother Aaron. Both leaders die for mysterious reasons and both leaders die quickly. However, there is one marked difference in the Torah’s depiction of their deaths: Aaron prepares for his transition.
We don’t know anything about Miriam’s death. It appears suddenly at the start of Numbers chapter 20, “The Israelites arrived in a body at the wilderness of Zin on the first new moon, and the people stayed at Kadesh. Miriam died there and was buried.” After this, the Torah moves on. The people do not mourn, the cause is not explained. However, Miriam’s death would play a crucial role in the story of the Jewish people. According to rabbinic legend, Miriam was given a special gift. Throughout the desert, in the driest of climates, Miriam was able to summon a magic well and provide water for the people. Yet, no sooner do we learn of Miriam’s death than we learn that the people are parched. The verse following Miriam’s death reads, “The community was without water, and they joined against Moses and Aaron.” True, we don’t know how Miriam died, if it was sudden or not, but what we do know is that as she was nearing the end of her life, Miriam had not found a successor. No one but her had the power over water. Therefore, when she disappeared so did her well. Trepidation followed Miriam’s death in the same way it did after William Henry Harrison.
Aaron’s death was different. At the behest of God, Aaron was commanded to ascend Mount Hor in front of the whole community. There he took of his priestly garments and dressed his son Eleazer in them. This simple act was all that was needed to pass the mantle of leadership from father to son. Aaron would ascend the mountain as high priest and his son would descend in that role. This simple act by Aaron ensured that would be no power vacuum and there would be someone to serve in his place after his death.
Aaron’s death exemplified an important feature of the way he lived his life. According to rabbinic legend Aaron used to walk around town. If he saw someone who didn’t know the prayers, he would teach them. As high priest, Aaron could have taken care of the people’s spiritual needs. He could have recited the prayers for them. However, knowing that an empowered people are better than a dependent one he took to time to instruct them. The same goes for settling disputes. According to rabbinic tradition, Aaron would stay up the night before a big trial, convincing the plaintiff and defendant to meet. There he would mediate between the two of them. Having worked out their dispute on their own, the two parties would cancel the case. True the courts are capable of ruling between parties, but a people who can compromise and discuss problems is better. This action is why the rabbi referred to Aaron as a “Rodef Shalom,” a pursuer of peace.
Aaron teaches us that although we can’t predict the future, living our life with one eye toward it is crucial. We won’t always be there to recite prayers or rule in disputes, so teaching others these skills ensures that prayers will get said and arguments settled even in our absence. Because of the way Aaron lived his life, his legacy was a more self-sustaining and grounded people, and Aaron’s death was a little less of a tragedy.
Having time to get one’s affairs in order and teach one’s lessons before death is sometimes a luxury we don’t often get. However, when we do have the time, it is important to take advantage of it. According to one rabbinic legend, before Jacob’s death, people died by sneezing. They would feel fine one minute, sneeze, and their soul would fly out their nose. As an aside, this is one reason why we bless those after a good sneeze. However, Jacob’s death would be different. He prayed for sickness, so that he would have time to gather his children together one last time and settle his affairs. With as much pain as it has caused us over time, sickness would be Jacob’s gift to humanity in forcing us to make important end of life decisions.
We cannot settle everything while we are living, but it’s never too late to start. No matter your age, make a decision about organ donation. Talk to your loved ones about what to if you end up on life support. If you have young children, make sure you designate a legal guardian if something should happen to you. Make sure your life insurance is up to date. Buy a funeral plot. The synagogue owns a cemetery and Howard Chwatzky would be happy to tell you more about it.
In the coming weeks, look out for a bereavement guide that Rabbi Morris and I have been working on. In addition to explaining the stages of Jewish mourning, it includes information about legal and living wills, a helpful sheet containing all the crucial information your family may need to know in the case of a tragedy (simple things like your safety deposit box number), and resources on how to fill out an ethical will so that your children and grandchildren may read in your own words the life lessons you want to impart. There’s a lot to remember when planning for the future, and Rabbi Morris and I are happy to be a resource if you would like to talk more about it.
After William Henry Harrison’s death, America faced a challenge because they had not prepared. However, they didn’t learn their lesson. After Harrison, other presidents would die in office, and each time they would rely on a Harrison’s shaky precedent to appoint the sitting vice president. This shows just how hard it is to really prepare. Finally, in 1967, this changed with the ratification of the 25th amendment that spelled out all the steps of vice presidential succession. America had finally learned their lesson and moved from a Miriam model of winging it to an Aaron model of advance planning. In this instance, there would be no more loose ends.
Shabbat Shalom and Happy 4th of July weekend.
Monday, July 4, 2011
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