Sitting in the hospital, the man I am there to visit says to me: "Rabbi, I have reached the end of my options, and I am going to die. I am coming to terms with it and now, I only need to live long enough to see my son graduate from School." Over the years as a rabbi, some version of this scene has played itself out numerous times - a person knows s/he is dying and in the process of coming to terms only wants to live long enough to witness one last important moment in the life of one of their children or grandchildren. A symbol of the many hopes and dreams, the moment - a graduation, a wedding, a bar mitzvah, a new baby born, or any one of a host of other possibilities - takes on new significance as father and child stand together as the mantel is passed and the child is transformed and the father can say goodbye.
Such is one of the scenes etched in my heart and mind as I re-read this week's Torah portion. Moses is instructed to ascend a mountain with his brother and his nephew, to: "Strip Aaron of his vestments and put them on his son, Elazar. Then Aaron should be gathered unto the dead." Moses is told to disrobe Aaron and adorn the son with his father's garments. The dramatic scene culminates with Aaron's public death atop the mountain, an experience so elaborate and emotional that having witnessed the moment "the entire house of Israel bewailed Aaron thirty days."
Now, you may recall that Aaron already knew (as does Moses) that he would die in the desert. At Meriva (which literally means strife), the people clamor for water, and Moses and Aaron are instructed by God to produce water from a rock. Moses and Aaron succeed in releasing the floodgate of water for the people, but also receive divine criticism for their method of doing so was not as instructed. It is precisely at this juncture that God informs Moses and Aaron that they themselves will not merit entering the Promised Land.
Ultimately, the reader is left with the sense that this divine punishment is enacted for failure to follow instructions. So, perhaps it is not so surprising that through the simple reading of the text is not simply that Aaron is disrobed, but that he is stripped of his priestly vestments, 'stripping' implying as if the role of priest and all its respect is taken away from Aaron in the ultimate act of humiliation in front of his son. At the same time, however, the Torah says that God also instructs Moses that he is to "console him that his son Elazar will succeed him to the High Priesthood and will uphold his tradition." So, how it is that stripping him of his vestment is transformed into some level of consolation that allows Aaron to enter his deathbed in peace and acceptance knowing that his son will succeed him?
At the time this happens, Aaron is an old man at 123 years old. Though still vigorous, it quickly becomes apparent that his last day is close and his day of reckoning has indeed come. Talking with a friend about this question, she reminded me of the Aaron's old age, but of the deep physical and emotional weight of the vestments. The priestly garb were not light in weight by any means! All the adornment, the elaborate design, the stones and jewels - all contributed to a garment that was simply too heavy for Aaron to carry any longer. Likewise, this was the moment when the weight of his service to the community was such that he could no longer bear it in his waning hours of life. Already having been identified as the heir apparent to carry on Aaron's work as his successor (see Leviticus 6:15), Elazar is now standing ready to take his place. And, in separating Moses, Aaron and Elazar for this private moment, Aaron ceases to be the priest bound to the people and becomes the father who upon knowing his days of life are limited, wants but one last moment of joy and meaning in seeing his son in his own moment of glory and success. Aaron is indeed stripped, 'naked' in front of his son, emotions pouring and poignant. After years of child rearing, offering advice, nurturing, and worrying, Aaron reaps the joy of living to witness his son's achievement. And, in that moment, he is one proud father catching a glimpse of the fruits of his personal labor. Now, he can die knowing that his legacy is in good hands, that his son will be okay, and that his son is living life with meaning and purpose.
In this weekend in which we celebrate fathers, may we all be blessed to experience and re-experience those relationships (whether in life or in memory) as ones in which the clothing that is stripped away reveals a healthy vulnerability that is borne out of years of nurturing, love, and support. And, may fathers and children everywhere be blessed to have in the past and/or continue to witness one another's moments of achievement, meaning, and success.
Shabbat Shalom and Happy Father's Day.