Dedicated in memory of Rabbi Dr. David and Nava Appelbaum, hy”d,
whose 6th yartzheit was observed earlier this week.

Unfortunately we are no stranger to tragedy in Israel. In fact, as time passes it becomes harder to distinguish between the various stories and the names of the victims – known well to us all in the immediate aftermath – become increasingly difficult to recall.

And yet, there are some tragedies that are so painful that they remain seared in our memories. For me, the murder of Rabbi Dr. David and Nava Appelbaum is something I will never forget.

I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news of the terrorist bombing of Cafי Hillel; I remember the nauseous feeling I had when I realized that father and daughter were killed on the eve of Nava’s wedding and were buried on what should have been her wedding day; and I remember crying uncontrollably when I spoke from the pulpit about their deaths a few days after the attack. An obituary from a national newspaper – including a picture of them – still hangs in my shul office and to this day I get choked up when visiting Kever Rachel and I see the beautiful paroches which was made from Nava’s wedding dress.

While it’s true that, in general, time heals, a teaching based on a pasuk in this week’s parshah points to a dimension of mourning that actually grows more painful with each passing year.

As we read of all of the frightening punishments prophesied in the tochechah we are told that in addition to what has been enumerated, “Even any illness or any blow that is not written in the Book of this Torah (asher lo chasuv b’sefer ha-torah ha-zos), Hashem will bring upon you until you are destroyed.” (Devarim 28:61)

While the straightforward understanding of this verse seems deliberately vague – what blow? – there is an alternate explanation which is cited by numerous commentaries (Meshech Chochmah, R. Yonason Eibeshitz in Yaaros Devash, #10, and others) which suggests that this curse is a specific reference to misas tzaddikim, the death of the righteous. In other words, in addition to the utter destruction already detailed in the tochechah, the passing of holy and righteous Jews adds another layer to our misfortune.

This explanation, however, gives rise to another question, which is: why not just include “misas tzaddikim” explicitly in the pasuk? What benefit or insight is added by using the phrase “asher lo chasuv b’sefer ha-torah ha-zos?”

Among the various explanations that are offered, one (quoted in Itturei Torah, v. 6, p. 169), seems particularly relevant to the tragic murder of Dr. Appelbaum and his daughter.

Aside from the emotional pain – which is felt by loved ones in all situations – when a tzaddik dies the heartbreak is magnified because of all that could have been accomplished – but never will. When someone who has already achieved greatness and has already contributed so much is taken from us, we mourn not only the person but also the “asher lo chasuv,” all of the “chapters” of the tzaddik’s life – the Torah tefillah, and chesed – the that will never be “written.”

David Appelbaum was a remarkable person. A leading doctor and a serious talmid chacham, a pioneer in emergency medicine and a gifted teacher, he personified the dictum “yafeh talmud torah im derech eretz.”

Nava, as well, was a special person who was beloved by so many people. She was admired by those closest to her for many things, in particular, her incredible work helping children with cancer.

Both father and daughter achieved so much in such a short period of time, it is tantalizing to think of what more they could have achieved.

All of the lives saved “asher lo chasuv;”

All of the new medical techniques “asher lo chasuv;”

All of the good deeds “asher lo chasuv;”

All of the Torah learned and taught “asher lo chasuv;”

We mourn not only their passing but all that they could have accomplished.

Dr. Appelbaum was an intimate and dedicated student of Harav Ahron Soloveichik, zt”l, and there is a teaching of R. Ahron that not only describes his prized talmid, but which we should all take to heart.

When describing the mitzvah of Kiddush Hashem the Rambam divides his initial presentation into two statements (Yesodei HaTorah 5:1-2). First he describes a situation in which a person is threatened with his or her life if they don’t violate any one of the overwhelming majority of mitzvos, where the halacha is “ya’avor ve’al yehareig,” that one may transgress the prohibition and thereby avoid death.

The Rambam then tells us that if one is similarly coerced, but instead of one of the other mitzvos, he or she are told to violate either idolatry, murder, or adultery, then rather than transgressing, the halacha is “ye’hareig ve’al ya’avor,” the person is obligated to sanctify God’s name die “Al Kiddush Hashem.”

The Rambam’s discussion is somewhat perplexing in that when attempting to define the mitzvah of Kiddush Hashem, he includes – initially – the many situations in which one is allowed to transgress the aveirah and avoid death. But this doesn’t seem right; Kiddush Hashem is when you give up your life rather than violating the “cardinal three” aveiros. But in a case where you don’t have to give up your life – you are allowed to eat the cheeseburger, for example – that’s not a Kiddush Hashem, that’s a case where you are exempt from the obligation to make a Kiddush Hashem.

How can we understand the words of the Rambam?

R. Ahron Soloveichik (The Warmth and the Light, pp. 38-39) explains that while it’s true that there are tragic situations that require us to give up our lives, and die “Al Kiddush Hashem,” the Rambam’s formulation teaches us that “living in sanctification of God’s name is the primary” fulfillment of Kiddush Hashem. A life based on Torah and the observance of halacha – including situations where halacha itself tells us to transgress an aveirah – is itself a Kiddush Hashem.

It’s as if R. Ahron was speaking of his talmid!

As much as we all remember about how Dr. Appelbuam died, we must also learn about how he lived.

He died, tragically, “al Kiddush Hashem,” but far more important are the innumerable acts of Kiddush Hashem that made up the years – and “chapters” – of his life.

In this week of the yartzheit and so close to Rosh HaShana, it’s not enough to just mourn the passing of David and Nava Appelbaum, we must be inspired by them as well.