Parashat Achrei Mot

When Yom Kippur Meets Pesach

Rabbi Leonard A. Matanky
By Rabbi Leonard A. Matanky

Rav of Congregation K.I.N.S. of West Rogers Park, Chicago, Illinois

Seldom does a rabbi have a chance to comment on the Torah reading that coincides with Shabbat HaGadol. Most years, we prepare a special address to be given Shabbat afternoon, based on the imminent arrival of Pesach and the auspicious power of redemption it brings. But this year is different. This year, the Shabbat HaGadol drasha was delivered a week early and all of our preparations for Pesach are complete. I can now consider this week's parasha of Acharei Mot from the perspective of Pesach and the important lessons these written and experiential entities share.

Acharei Mot opens with a seemingly simple, but curiously incongruous verse – a flashback to the tragic deaths of Aaron's two sons Nadav and Avihu. Suddenly, six chapters after the initial story of their deaths, the Torah remembers them. And then, just as suddenly the Torah forgets them, introducing in the very next verse the Temple service of Yom Kippur. Why would the Torah do this? What possible connection could there be between the deaths of Aaron's two sons and Yom Kippur?

According to the sages of the Jerusalem Talmud, the answer is obvious - these two seemingly disparate verses actually impart a comforting message. “Just as Yom Kippur atones for the sins of the Jewish people, so too does the passing of tzaddikim atone for our sins." Even in the darkness of tragedy one can find hope.

Yet, the thought is not easily understood. How can a person's death, even the death of a tzaddik, serve as a source for atonement and forgiveness? We find an answer in the works of Rabbi Baruch HaLevi Epstein, the great 19th century sage and author of the Biblical commentary, Torah Temimah. Rabbi Epstein explains that the Talmud did not mean that the death of tzaddikim literally atones for our sins; it is only when people, through their actions, acknowledge the importance of tzaddikim, when they actively incorporate the tzaddik’s lessons, only then does their passing serve as atonement for Klal Yisrael.

This relationship, this constant and ever-present "moral power" of our tzaddikim, makes our people unique. For in the words of the late sage, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveichik, the Jewish people possesses an "experiential memory" – continually remembering and reliving our past. We remember the glories and the tragedies - the conquests and the defeats, but most importantly, we remember our tzaddikim - the towering figures throughout our national and family history. Perhaps that is why the Jewish people have survived for so long. Perhaps it is the strength and the atonement that these memories have provided and the actions they have promoted.

All of which may be the connection between this week's parasha and Pesach, and the reason that Acharei Mot is the perfect parasha to be read on erev Pesach. What makes Pesach so powerful is the experiential memory of these days. Everything we do at the seder and throughout the holiday is based, not only upon halacha, but also on unique family traditions. "This is the tune that Zayde used to sing." "This is the recipe that Bubby used to make." "Here are the Haggadahs we've always used."

These traditions not only preserve the past, but inject the past into our present, "bringing to life" those very special and personal tzaddikim who return to our seder table every year. Their eternal lessons make Pesach the holiday that reinvigorates our tradition – and our lives.

Chag Kasher v'Same’ach.

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