Orbit January, 2013 - Plainview Jewish Center

ORBIT
Page 4
FROM THE RABBI by Rabbi Steven Conn
Every morning, I put my son on the bus and send him off to his first grade
classroom. Putting him on the bus for the first time last year was not easy. How
did I know he would really get to school safely? How did I know that he was really
going to be getting off the bus in the same spot seven hours later? Like generations
of parents before me, I had learned to trust that the bus driver, the teachers,
the principal and the school aides would take care of my son while he was
at school and return him home safely at the end of the day. Developing this trust is an important
milestone for any parent because our children will only learn to be independent, self-regulating and
socially appropriate if we allow them to step out from under the shadow of our constant parental
supervision.
The parents of the twenty children who were brutally murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary
School in Newtown, Connecticut also trusted that the school staff would make sure that their children
returned home safely at the end of each school day. They had every reason to place their trust in
school staff. By all accounts, Sandy Hook was a well-run school with caring teachers and a dedicated
administration. Yet, on December 14 th , the basic trust bond between parents and school was shattered.
A school devoted to educating, nurturing and protecting small children became the scene of a
horrifying massacre; a massacre no one could have foreseen.
For all of us who have children in our lives, parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and
caring neighbors, this tragedy shook us to the core. Days later, we are still trying to come to grips with
what happened in Newtown. How could anyone walk into a classroom full of six and seven year olds
and methodically gun them down? How could twenty short lives end so suddenly and so tragically?
And, if such a horror can happen in a quiet little town like Newtown, Connecticut, in a school that had
all the usual security procedures in place, how can we ever trust that our children will be safe anywhere?
As we struggle to answer these questions for ourselves and for our country, it is worth remembering
that Jewish communities throughout our history have confronted similar questions. Too many
times, our ancestors witnessed the devastating loss of their young people; through persecution, war
and disease. In their attempts to cope with these losses, they turned to our tradition for guidance and
insight. Among the sources in our tradition that address the the pain of losing children, the most often
cited is the following story from the Midrash. The story centers on the great second century scholar
Rabbi Meir and his wife Bruriah, who was perhaps even more renown for her wisdom. While I have
always found this story very troubling, in the wake of the Newtown tragedy, I think it also contains a very
profound message that can help guide us in the days ahead.
Rabbi Meir was studying in the Beit Midrash [House of Study] on Shabbat afternoon,
when his two sons died. What did their mother do? She placed them both on the
bed and spread a sheet over them
When Shabbat ended, Rabbi Meir came home from the Beit Midrash. He said to
his wife, “Where are my two sons?” She said to him, “They went to the Beit Midrash. He
said to her, “I looked for them there, but I didn’t see them.” She gave him the cup of wine
for havdalah and he said the blessings. Again he asked her, “Where are my two sons?”
She said to him, “They went somewhere; they are coming anytime now.” She set his
food before him and he ate.
After he had said Grace, she said to him, “My Master, before Shabbat a man
came and gave me something in pledge, and now he has come to take it back. Shall we
( continued on page 5 )