One of the great lessons I learned as an English major was that even the simplest language can be ripe with the nuanced complexity of multiple ideas and suggestions. Think of Dickens' opening words of "The Tale of Two Cities." "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...." Straightforward enough to gain a surface understanding, but dense with layer upon layer of possibility that sets the tone for the story that follows.

This week's parashah, Shemini, records the horrible death by fire of Aaron's two oldest sons, Nadav and Avihu. From our oldest sages to modern Biblical scholars there has been much discussion of what these two men did to deserve such a drastic punishment. But, however we might interpret their transgression, it is Aaron's reaction which I find riveting: "And Aaron was silent."  10:3. A simple statement, yet a powerful reaction. Was Aaron too pained to speak? Was he so overcome with grief that he was unable to utter a word? Was he afraid to voice his anger or displeasure lest he face a similar fate? Was he pausing for a moment until he could formulate an appropriate response (although Moses fills this void for him and provides direction)? Is his silence in itself a statement?

Like much of Torah, a few brief words can generate a host of explanations and theories. Aaron's lack of a verbal response, even a cry of anguish, does not mean he is not affected. In fact, one possibility is that Aaron's silence is calculated to keep him from reliving the trauma of his sons' transgressions and deaths. Perhaps our lesson here is that silence can be not only an appropriate response, but also an emotionally healthy response in certain circumstances.

Have a peaceful Shabbat.