Funerals of Distinction
This past week marked two funerals in the JFX community: as mentioned above, Heather Greene's and Josh Golub's grandmother, and Robert Rosenthal's mother.
The purpose of "speeches" or eulogies at a funeral, says the Talmud, is to be "me-orer bechi" - bluntly, to make you cry. Controlling your emotions at a funeral or shiva is not a feat of admiration in Jewish thought and tradition. Even the attendees should, the goal is, be brought to tears. Why?
King Solomon tells us that it is better to go to a house of mourning than to to go to a house of partying. A counterintuitive teaching, to say the least. Given the choice, would YOU rather go to a funeral or a party?
But King Solomon didn't earn the "world's wisest person" title for nothing. He wasn't telling us which was more enjoyable, but rather, which would confer upon us greater gain in the long run. And a funeral, done right, is an amazingly growthful experience.
A funeral, done right, inspires its attendees to strive higher. To reach harder. To set goals. To remember what really counts, at the end of a life well-lived. When the true character traits of the deceased are spoken about with love and admiration, and when his or her loved ones look back and are called upon to cull the most important and memorable aspects of his or her life, it is deeply moving and inspiring. It leaves you wanting to be more. To grow more. To be a long-term human being.
Thank you, Faith Golub and Ruth Rosenthal, for inspiring me by proxy - for living lives of distinction, of beauty, of sterling character and hard work and faith.
And thank you, to your beautiful families, for creating funerals for you of distinction, of which not only you, but also King Solomon, would have agreed inspired us... by making us cry.
Shabbat Shalom,
This past week marked two funerals in the JFX community: as mentioned above, Heather Greene's and Josh Golub's grandmother, and Robert Rosenthal's mother.
The purpose of "speeches" or eulogies at a funeral, says the Talmud, is to be "me-orer bechi" - bluntly, to make you cry. Controlling your emotions at a funeral or shiva is not a feat of admiration in Jewish thought and tradition. Even the attendees should, the goal is, be brought to tears. Why?
King Solomon tells us that it is better to go to a house of mourning than to to go to a house of partying. A counterintuitive teaching, to say the least. Given the choice, would YOU rather go to a funeral or a party?
But King Solomon didn't earn the "world's wisest person" title for nothing. He wasn't telling us which was more enjoyable, but rather, which would confer upon us greater gain in the long run. And a funeral, done right, is an amazingly growthful experience.
A funeral, done right, inspires its attendees to strive higher. To reach harder. To set goals. To remember what really counts, at the end of a life well-lived. When the true character traits of the deceased are spoken about with love and admiration, and when his or her loved ones look back and are called upon to cull the most important and memorable aspects of his or her life, it is deeply moving and inspiring. It leaves you wanting to be more. To grow more. To be a long-term human being.
Thank you, Faith Golub and Ruth Rosenthal, for inspiring me by proxy - for living lives of distinction, of beauty, of sterling character and hard work and faith.
And thank you, to your beautiful families, for creating funerals for you of distinction, of which not only you, but also King Solomon, would have agreed inspired us... by making us cry.
Shabbat Shalom,
Ruchi
