Berakhot 046

Richard Friedman writes:

I was intrigued by your comments on the Ha-Makom Yenachem [May the Omnipresent comfort you etc] formula. I had assumed that Aveilei Tzion vi-Yerushalayim meant "the mourners among Zion and Jerusalem", and that "Zion and Jerusalem" meant the Jewish People. It had not occurred to me that "Zion and Jerusalem" were the things being mourned, though it makes sense. Is it clear that they do mean this? Regardless of the meaning, I have a concern with your proposed substitute. It always seems to me that the traditional formula subtly reminds the mourner that he/she is not alone, and that there are others who are mourning. That seems to me a way of re-establishing the mourner's social linkages, which I understand is one of the purposes of the whole set of avelut [mourning] rituals.

Almost as if responding to Richard, David Bockman writes:

You wrote: Traditionally these words of comfort were "May the Omnipresent comfort you among the other mourners for Zion and Jerusalem". Uttering this phrase nowadays seem to many – including this writer – to reek of ingratitude. Do you not recall that Aveilei Tzion Vi-Yerushalayim were a heretical sect who mourned overly much at the destruction of the Temple? They refused to accept pesak [halakhic decision] from a Sanhedrin not meeting in Lishkat ha-Gazit [their traditional chamber on the Temple Mount] and refused to eat meat or drink wine [as signs of national mourning]. That is the only use, other than with ha-Makom Yenachem, of Aveilei Tzion vi-Yerushalayim. Obviously, we don't want to charge mourners with being heretics! Perhaps it has to do with the particular kinui – Ha-Makom [which I translated "Omnipresent" – SR]. God is the "place" that caused Kedushah, not the Temple. This becomes, then, a statement about absolute versus relative importance. The individual neshamah [soul] has left, but the source, God, is always there. That should be some kind of comfort.

In an earlier comment (Berakhot 043) I had surmised that Richard Friedman would possibly suggest here that the reason the mourner is excused from reciting the Shema before the burial is that one can hardly require a person to affirm Divine Sovereignty at the precise moment when such an affirmation most hurts emotionally. And I demurred. Richard Friedman comments:

Actually, I'm inclined to agree with you. I am inclined to understand 3:1 as based on a principle of ha-osek be-mitzvah patur mi-mitzvah – you can't do two mitzvot at once – and not based on an assumption that the mourner can't generate appropriate kavvanah [concentration]. My point about 2:5 was that the usual explanation of that mishnah in terms of this principle (ha-osek be-mitzvah) is unconvincing because that is the subject of Chapter 3. In other words, it's precisely Chapter 3 that (I think) deals with ha-osek be-mitzvah, and so I sought a different explanation for 2:5 in terms of psychological ability to generate kavvanah.

Also, you said that Rambam holds that recitation of the Amidah is an obligation de-Orayta. I thought Rambam's position was that there's a de-Orayta obligation to recite some prayer at least once a day, but that the obligation to recite a particular text (Amidah) or at particular times is mi-de-rabbanan.

I respond (to this last point):

Richard is quite right! My unhappily phrased comment was caused by my thinking in Hebrew! Rambam does hold that there is tefillah mi-de-orayta, but not ha-tefillah. Sorry about that.