Patience, Not Platitudes: What Not to Say to Those Celebrating or Mourning During Corona

Usually, when I get a call before speaking at a Chuppah, it is to remind me what to say, whom to acknowledge and remember, the qualities of the chassan and kallah to recognize.  This week, I got a phone call requesting what to not say at an upcoming wedding. “Rabbi,” the kallah said respectfully, “please don’t mention that Covid is great, giving us opportunities, and this wedding is exactly what Hashem wanted, isn’t this amazing.  Please don’t say that because it isn’t true.  I am so grateful to be getting married, but this isn’t the wedding I had been anticipating.” (Shared with permission)

I never would have said such a thing, of
course, but it is telling that she was concerned I might.  This wonderful kallah is among many celebrating
simchas during this time who have heard the platitudes from people telling them
why this version of their simcha is so much better, is so much more beautiful,
is exactly what Hashem wants them to have, and how happy they should be about
it.

This week, countless young people are
celebrating graduations, some over Zoom, some with a drive-by, and some in
person but substantially modified.  Our
school administrators, teachers, and community members have been nothing short
of heroic in making the most and the best of a difficult year. But while these
efforts must be appreciated and recognized, we still need to be honest with
ourselves and with our students: these are not the graduations they pictured
and looked forward to for four or eight years or more while they worked towards
their milestone. 

Over the last three months, many people
have lost loved ones.  I personally have
three family members whom I was close with and loved, who have passed away
during this time. They deserved large funerals and robust shivas, yet their
neshamas were denied this kavod and their loved ones were deprived of the
brilliant formula for grieving prescribed by the Torah and Chazal. 

To be clear, if a person chooses to process
their own simcha or personal loss by reflecting on the positive opportunities
presented, how they feel better off and grateful for diverting from the norm,
that is their prerogative.  For one to
have that attitude about themselves is not only a coping mechanism, but admirable.  By contrast, explaining to people who are
disappointed or disheartened why they shouldn’t be is unlikely to change their
feelings, and more likely to just make them feel guilty for having them. 

I think we can convey a different message to those struggling with feelings of frustration and grief from unrealized dreams and hopes.

Nine years ago, Yocheved
and I attended a spectacular 50^th anniversary party that was as
beautiful as a wedding. I remember thinking the venue, music, food and drinks
were magnificent but frankly, it felt like a little much for an anniversary
party.  And then our host Mike spoke. He
is a survivor who had been separated from his parents for parts of the war, and
though reunited with them afterwards, had lost most of his family.  His family had next to nothing when he
married Barbara.  When they got married
at the Young Israel of Cleveland, the shmorg consisted of potato chips,
pretzels, and ginger ale.  Mike explained
that he told her then, “Barbara, this is all we can afford now, but you deserve
the wedding of your dreams.  One day I
will make it for you.” And so fifty years later, they invited family, friends
and the rabbis from all the communities they had ever lived to a beautiful
anniversary party. 

Not having the
wedding, Bar or Bat Mitzvah, or graduation of your dreams is not fantastic,
it’s unfortunate and it’s frustrating. 
Not being surrounded by friends and family to provide support and love
when you lose a loved one feels unfair and even cruel.  Our response must not be to give unsolicited
perspective, to offer empty platitudes, to provide explanations and reasons, or
to encourage them to find a silver lining. 
Our response must be to validate, acknowledge and encourage patience.

It took fifty years
for Mike and Barbara to celebrate the wedding of their dreams. Perhaps those
getting married during this period can mark a future anniversary by filling in what
they felt is missing now. With patience and time, perhaps graduates will mark
other graduations or class reunions more fully to compensate what is missing
this year.  Perhaps time will allow
sheloshim or yahrzeit observances to more fully memorialize with friends and
family.

After Miriam spoke lashon hara
about her brother Moshe and was struck with tzara’as, she was
quarantined for seven days.  While she
was not part of the camp during that time, the camp stood still. They did not
travel, they did not move forward without her. 
Out of love and respect for Miriam, the people refused to leave without
her.  Why?  Wasn’t it dangerous to stand still in the
desert baking in the sun, depleting resources? 
Why did three million people stand still, waiting for one person?

The Mishna in Sota tells us that in
the merit of Miriam waiting to see what would happen to Moshe’s basket floating
in the Nile, the entire nation waited for her for seven days. When things
looked hopeless and her parents felt like giving up on bringing more Jewish
children into the world, Miriam had faith and convinced her parents to believe
in a brighter future.  When once again
things looked bad, the Jewish future literally sailing down the Nile River, again
Miriam stood and watched with great faith and hope.  Miriam was rewarded, not just for standing on
the bank of the river that day, but for her tenacity, faith and hope and for
her patience. 

Nobody has more patience than the
Jew. For 2,000 years we longed to return to Israel and Yerushalayim, and we have
been rewarded by coming home. 

Once again we are being asked to
wait. To wait to celebrate fully, to wait to mourn fully, to wait to return to normal
life.  But we are the progeny of Miriam. She
waited for Moshe, our ancestors waited for her, and they both imbued within us the capacity and fortitude to wait for
Moshiach. B’chol yom achakeh lo, every day for millenia we have been practicing
waiting. 

Like Miriam was rewarded for her waiting, may every graduate, bride and groom be rewarded for their patience with celebrations that are truly the fulfillment of their dreams.