What does the Torah teach us about the traumatic and heart wrenching death: the loss of a child?
When Jacob’s children go down to Egypt in search of sustenance they unexpectedly come face to face with their long-lost brother Joseph. But they don’t recognize him. Joseph, who is now second in command to Pharaoh, jails one of the brothers, Simeon, and sends the remaining brothers back to their home in Canaan. When they return to their father Jacob without Simeon, Jacob is beside himself. Not only has he lost one beloved son, believing Joseph was murdered, but now a second son’s life in imminent danger. It is in this context that Jacob utters the term that is designated for parents who have lost a child – shakhul (Genesis 42:36). Jacob says to his sons: I have lived for so many years as a shakhul, please don’t let this happen to me again.
Thousands of parents experience child loss each year: miscarriages and stillborn births, infant death, death from sickness and disease, children killed by terrorism or acts of violence, children killed in accidents, and sometimes there are children who pass away suddenly without warning, without explanation.
There is no one term in English for a parent who loses a child. Perhaps this is because the culture does not perceive the loss of a child to be any different than any other death. Shakhul is often simply translated as “bereaved,” which does not capture its true meaning.
Jacob lives 22 years with the belief that Joseph, then his teenage son, has tragically died. Although this portion of the Torah is not usually read in this light, we have a snapshot of how a parent mourns a child’s death.
Jacob tears his garment (Genesis 37:34). This is the first time a Jew rends his garment, a ritual incorporated into halacha, Jewish law, and we continue to observe it on the death of a parent, spouse or sibling. According to our sages, the act symbolizes the permanent tear in one’s heart.
Jacob’s family and friends try to comfort him for his loss, says the Torah “…but he refused to be comforted” (37:35). The classic commentator Rashi explains that Jacob was really saying that he felt that he would never find comfort for the rest of his life after losing a child (Rashi 37:35, ‘Avel Sheola’).
The pain is a lingering pain; the tear in one’s heart is permanent.
During the 22 years that Jacob mourns the loss of his son, the commentaries say that Jacob experiences an absence of God’s presence in his life (Rashi, Genesis 45:27). The Shechina, God’s warmth and closeness, which once permeated Jacob’s life, now seems to be gone. Apparently, the Torah is suggesting that the experience of child loss is unique. Remarkably, the descriptions that we find in these verses reflect the way parents still describe this kind of bereavement – a pain that never leaves.
In all the years I studied and taught the story of Jacob and Joseph, I never saw it in this light until, I, tragically, experienced the sudden death of my own four-year-old son, Elisha Chanina z”l. As I now continuously search the Torah and our holy books for insight and wisdom in confronting my aching loss, I have found comfort in discovering that the Torah treats child loss in way that is honest and real. It establishes a word specifically for parents who endure the bitterness and pain of child loss.
One who loses his parents is an orphan; bereaved spouses become widows and widowers. These are losses so profound that a special word is needed to express the new state of being. By designating a specific term, shakhul, for parents who have lost a child, the Torah is calling for added sensitivity towards the pain parents endure and is demonstrating awareness of the enduring emotional scar.
A Source of Strength
As I have learned over the three years and nine months since my son’s passing, every individual experiences grief differently. But there are some general recommendations as to how one can be a source of strength for those who have suffered this kind of tragedy.
Carefully choose the words used when speaking to a bereaved parent; not only during the few days of shiva, but for the years to follow. Never say, “You’ll get over it” or ‘I’m sure you will find closure.” Better to say, “I am thinking about you” or “Today I thought about your son/daughter,” and share a memory.
Parents who have lost a child do not ever want their child to be forgotten. One of the best things others can do is to show that they care and help ensure that the child’s memory endures. A close friend of ours made a small memory book of pictures and thoughts that she gave to us and to each of our parents. That small book continues to be meaningful to us, and through it we feel the embrace of that person.
Caring friends can also show love and sympathy by sending an email or a note on each birthday of the deceased child or on each yahrtzeit, or support a project that the family may have initiated in the child’s memory. People can also give to other charities or perform other acts of kindness and let the parents know that they have done so in the child’s memory. These and other gestures offer loving support that can make a real difference to the broken-hearted family.
When the Torah describes the great blessing of peace and tranquility that will one day in the future come to the Jewish people, we again find the use of the term shakhul (Exodus 23:26). God promises that parents will no longer witness the death of their children, and the verse concludes, “I will let you count the fullness of your days.” Of the multitude of gifts the Torah could have promised for the future, the Torah chooses to highlight the removal of the trauma of child loss and its harsh pain.
The Torah is well aware that until that great era of blessing arrives, we continue to grapple with this heartbreaking mystery, and struggle to cope with one of life’s greatest tragedies. The story of Jacob opens a door for us to discuss our tradition’s perspectives and insights regarding the loss of a child. As the descendants of Jacob who pursue the sacred task of building noble and caring communities, we are reminded to open our collective hearts with compassion and loving care.
(13) Hendriehet Young, January 16, 2021 12:13 PM
My son died
My son died! This is the reality I have to deal with every day I woke up and every evening I go to sleep. It is nearly four years and the pain in my hart is still as painful as the day he died. I miss his smile, his eyes I MISS HIM!! You read in the Torah this son died and that son passed on but their was mothers and fathers for all those children. The pain is there for ever...
(12) alison Schon, October 26, 2020 3:31 PM
A person who is shakul loses his sechel
Perhaps there is a connection between the words Shakul and Sechel; the grief of a shakul may lead ( initially, hopefully) to the temporary loss of seichel.
Comment: Beautifully crafted article with an important message to parents validating their permanent eternal loss.
This article was posted in 2014. Can you recommend additional poignant articles on this same topic?
Many thanks. Alison
(11) Mark and Ellen Newman, December 25, 2014 4:27 PM
Death of An Only Child and Best Friend
We just lost our beloved Ariel Yitzchak ben Meir, a"h, 18 years old, on 9/10/2014 (15 Elul 5774) due to Exertional Heat Stroke in the Judean desert while on a two day hike under the supervision of the gap year yeshiva's program director. He was our only child. Your article was wonderfully written and gave us a modicum of comfort. Thank you so much! We hope there is some way to contact you directly. With the assistance of scientific research experts in the US and in Israel, we have developed Ariel's Checklist, a short document in easy-to-read English to help reduce the risk of suffering heat-related illness while hiking in the desert. Please contact us for a copy. Rabbi Asher Resnick and Rabbi Yerachmiel Milstein of Aish HaTorah both knew our son and have our contact information. My Hashem give all of us strength who have lost our precious children and may Elisha Chanina's neshama have an aliya in shamayim from Rabbi Goldscheider's teaching Torah to us all.
(10) vivienne friendly, December 25, 2014 3:40 AM
death of child
Almost 43 years ago my beloved Elias Benjamin was killed in a car accident at the age of 6 years and 1 month, two days before Pesach. Since then, the death of the firstborn, and the salt water for tears have been a constant reminder., and for many years the approach of spring was hateful....It has been an amputation, not quite so raw in the past few years as I reach 80, but I am still a walking wounded, and have a constant sorrow for that sweet life cut so short, and so suddenly. My life's events are mentally noted as "Before Eli, and After Eli" .
What has the experience done for me? I have even more than"Before Eli" a soul hurting empathy for all who suffer the death of a child, which seems almost more than one can bear.
May all who have suffered so gain some kind of relief from pain and a feeling that there is some sense to such awfulness.
(9) Mily, December 19, 2014 11:46 AM
My brother last year on yom kipur. lost his 16 year old son. A beautiful boy. Shomer shabbat the hole day praying making mitzvot. We miss him so much. Yosef ben magui may he be in a better place. Love you YOSEF
(8) Anonymous, December 19, 2014 3:04 AM
You Are A Source Of Great Comfort
Thank you so much for your sensitive and beautiful article. May Elisha Chanina's memory be a blessing to your family and all of Israel!!
(7) Anonymous, December 18, 2014 8:59 PM
thank you
It has been 32 yrs since this death of my son and almost 45 years since the loss of pregnancies. It is so good to finally hear someone say the pain does not go away. We learn to live with the pain and loss but our hearts are not whole. Thank you for showing me this in the Torah - it comforts and helps me identify more with others.
(6) Anonymous, December 18, 2014 8:28 PM
Very moving
This is such a moving article written so beautifully. There are important insights here. May Rabbi Goldscheider know no more sorrow.
(5) David Alt, December 18, 2014 4:31 PM
Isn't "shakul" related to "sechel"?
I've often wondered why this word "in mourning for one's child" is related to the word meaning "wisdom." Possibly we learn not from routine but from exceptions. There can be no greater exception to expectations than a child pre-deceasing a parent. It's not "wisdom" we want for anybody, of course, but there might be a deep meaning in it... somewhere.
(4) laura, December 18, 2014 2:20 PM
May those who have lost a beloved child be surrounded by love and peace.
(3) Judith S. Jacobson, December 18, 2014 1:54 PM
Yes, caring friends are a major source of comfort
Rabbi Goldscheider is absolutely right. My son Matthew died nearly 5 years ago, at age 35. My husband and I have inherited several of his wonderful friends. His Facebook page is still up, and his friends from all over the world still remember him on his birthday or contact me on his yahrzeit. They are a major source of comfort.
(2) Anonymous, December 18, 2014 12:21 PM
Comforting thoughts
B"H
My parents OB"M went through the loss of a child. They became more active in community life and also tried to comfort others in the same boat. My Mother OB"M used to say that there will come a time when you will tell us very good news instead of the somber incident. A woman whose son was tragically lost in a car accident came to her for comfort. She told her that, in time, you will come to tell good news. Later on, this woman's daughter had twins and named one of them for the brother who had been killed. This woman was so overjoyed. Yes, tragedy strikes. Immortalize the name of your loved one and then please try to go forward. In this world, that is our task. ALL THE BEST!
(1) Dvirah, December 16, 2014 5:06 PM
Child Death
One cannot expect a culture that routinely exposes unwanted children to dealth to consider the death of a child as a tragedy - a practice used by many peoples from Summarian times up thru the Middle Ages.