Parshas Vayechi - 5762
By Rabbi Baruch Lederman

 The sons of Yaakov went to great pains to provide a proper burial for their revered father. Proper respect for the dead has always been a hallmark of Judaism, as the following true story, recently printed in the NY Times, poignantly illustrates:

        In the darkest hours of the night, Judith Kalan, dressed in her Sabbath finery, sat in a tent outside the New York City Medical Examiner's office, singing the haunting repertoire from the Book of Psalms. From midnight until 5 a.m., within sight of trucks full of body parts from the World Trade Center, she fulfilled the most selfless of Jewish commandments: to keep watch over the dead, who must not be left alone from the moment of passing until burial.

        Normally, this Orthodox ritual, known as sitting shmira, lasts for only 24 hours and is performed by one Jew for another Jew. But these are not normal times. Thus the round-the-clock vigil outside the morgue on First Avenue and 30th Street is already in its eighth week. The three sealed trucks may or may not contain Jewish bodies. Ms. Kaplan, 20, a senior at Stern College for Women, a division of Yeshiva University, is one of nine students who have volunteered for this solemn task on weekends, working in shifts from Friday afternoons until nightfall on Saturdays, the holiest part of the week.

        The rest of the time, the task is performed by scores of volunteers from an Orthodox synagogue, Ohab Zedek. Devout Jews cannot ride on the Sabbath, putting the subway or taxis off-limits for the long trek from Ohab Zedek to the morgue. So the Stern students, whose dormitories are within blocks of the morgue, have filled the breach. They were recruited by Jessica Russak, 20, a student who takes the dawn shift, peeking out of the tent as the sky brightens to time her morning prayers. Ms. Russak, Ms. Kaplan and the others have won blessings from Christian chaplains at the site, and their dedication has moved police officers and medical examiners to tears.

        The burly state trooper who guards the area has learned the girls' names, and a bit about their religion. At first, the trooper demanded identification, not knowing that carrying anything on the Sabbath was prohibited for Orthodox Jews. Now he keeps an eye on the prayer books and snacks that the Stern students drop off before sundown on Friday and retrieve Saturday night. The trooper once called Ms. Russak at home when she was a few minutes late, in case her alarm clock had not gone off.

        The school is also providing security guards to escort those who sit the late-night shifts. Shmira is the truest of the 613 mitzvahs because there can never be reciprocity. But there are other rewards. All of them had felt so helpless after the terrorist attacks. Then came the pleas for Sabbath shomers. "This is something I can do," Ms. Kaplan said. "And it's surreal. You absolutely feel the souls there, and you feel them feeling better."

        Each volunteer said she had begun with fears about sitting within sight of the trucks full of remains. Instead, they said, they have found peace and a kind of joy. Ms. Russak does not sing the psalms, but rather mutters them, in whatever order moves her, often starting with No. 130, which she knows by heart. The effect is meditative. "The meter and the rhythm, one after the next after the next, it calms you," Ms. Russak said. "That's the magic of the psalms. They put you in the right place. Now I understand what it is to pray with your heart."

        Two weeks ago, during her regular four-hour shift, Ms. Kaplan sang 128 of the 150 psalms and grudgingly gave up her place to Ms. Russak at 4 a.m., begging her to finish the cycle. Last week, determined to do the full canon on her own, Ms. Kaplan pleaded and won an extra hour. "It's very completing for her," Ms. Russak said. "Like finishing an entire book of the Torah." Outside the tent, the last of the men, a volunteer from Ohab Zedek, was rushing toward his Sabbath observance in Brooklyn. It was time for the women to begin.

        Before Yaakov passed away he admonished and advised his sons. He chastised his son Reuvain (Gen. 49:4), describing him as "pachaz kemayim" (unstable like water). This is a reference to the following incident:

        Yaakov had four wives; Rochel, Leah, Bilhah, and Zilpah. He had several children from each wife. Rochel and Leah were especially distinguished in that they were two of the Matriarchs of the Jewish people. Rochel and Bilhah always had a close bond as did Leah and Zilpah. When all four were alive, Yaakov kept his bed in Rochel's tent. This was an honor for her. After Rochel died, Yaakov moved his bed from her tent to the tent of Bilhah because of the close association between Bilhah and Rochel. Reuvain, the eldest son of Yaakov & Leah, was enraged by this and removed the bed from Bilhah's tent to Leah's tent. After all, Leah was a Matriarch. How could Yaakov snub her like this?

        Yaakov was not just criticizing the act Reuvain committed; but, by describing him as pachaz kemayim, he was critiquing some trait in Reuvain. What precisely was that trait? Rabbi Moshe Dov Harris explained this as follows: Rashi comments that Reuvain was "quick to show anger" (meharta liharos caascha).  Reuvain allowed his emotion, in this case anger, to creep in while he was making his decision. When this happens, it distorts one's internal decision making process. The proper way is to calmly and methodically, analyze the situation and arrive at a rational thorough decision. Then after that point you can use anger to fuel your resolve to carry out your correct decision. This way the decision is not skewed for it was not arrived at in a murky emotional state. In other words anger is okay if you allow it in only later - it may even help you carry out a tough decision. It is not okay if you are "quick to show anger" for then your entire ability to make a proper decision will be tainted, even if only on a subconscious level, by the anger.

        Rabbi Dovid Kronglass was once chastising a student in a most strong manner. At that moment, another student who had just announced his engagement that day, walked over. Rabbi Kronglass gave the chasan (groom) a warm and hearty Mazel Tov. His face was beaming with love and happiness for this student, you never could have guessed what he was just doing with the first student. As soon as the chasan walked away, Rabbi Kronglass continued the tongue lashing with the same passion and fury he had at first. He was in complete control of the situation and of himself.

        Rabbi Elya Lopian would wait an hour, a day or even a week, before chastising an errant child or student in order to be sure that he bore no trace of personal anger. This way, his rebuke stemmed from love not anger. Even if he showed anger he did not actually feel anger.

        My wife once told me, "If one of the little kids does something that drives you nuts - instead of wanting to strangle him - grab a camera."