Grieving and Growing

The five chapters of Megilat Eicha have multiple levels of structure, all of which reflect the complexity of the human condition and highlight the profound messages of hope, even amidst destruction. Chapters 1 through 4 are organized by an alphabetic acrostic, with chapter 3 exhibiting a triple acrostic. Chapter 5 echoes the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet with 22, albeit non-alphabetical, verses. While this “a to z” pattern conjures a feeling of utter total loss, pain, and suffering, it also creates some sense of limit to the grief. There is seder, order, to the turmoil and catastrophe which we are lamenting. Even amidst suffering, we have hope, as Rabbi Sacks has reflected: Judaism is the voice of hope in the conversation of humankind. The prophets, even the most pessimistic, were all agents of hope…(Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Future Tense, p.244).

An added level of complexity to the structure of Megilat Eicha is seen in chapters 1 and 2 where there is a chiastic structure, a symmetrical pattern where verse 1 parallels verse 22 and verse 2 parallels verse 21, and so forth. So the verse which starts with the letter alef has a linguistic companion in the verse which starts with the letter taf, that which begins with the letter bet has a match with the verse beginning with shin, hence the pattern being succinctly called א”ת ב”ש.  This structure can be visualized as a staircase, ascending 11 steps and then descending 11 steps and thus reminds me of the expression “one step forward, two steps back”; in the process of grief, one might feel that there is no progress.  It is a never-ending torture to revisit the same place, the same horrific imagery of desolation, destruction and loneliness, up and down the same steps.

However, one can also view the stairway cycle as that of a circle. Imagine children going around and around the escalators at the local mall. While similar to the staircase, one can more easily imagine a circle at the center of the escalators. The circular imagery recalls Lois Tonkin’s model of “Growing Around Grief,” symbolized by a black circle of loss which does not shrink over time, but  new life can expand around it. The dark can be surrounded by vivid colors, new experiences, growth and joy, going around and around the dark circle of pain. In the words of psychiatrist Dr. Elizabeth Kübler-Ross: “You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.”

In Israel there has been an impressive initiative by artists and volunteers to create beautiful ceramic poppies, the Israeli kalaniot, and install them in different places, particularly in the areas of the south most affected by the immense pain and bereavement of October 7th. The red kalaniot flowers naturally pop up in southern Israel every winter and are an attraction for many to come and see “darom adom”, whereas now the handmade flowers portray an image strikingly similar to these modern models of grief, a dark black center of the flower for all those who were murdered in Otef Aza, along with brilliant red petals expressing hope for new life and yearning for a brighter future.

Kalaniot Otef Aza, photo by Adina Ellis, June 7, 2024    

The strength and beauty of Am Yisrael is overwhelmingly moving at times. We know how to grieve and celebrate, feel anxious for what the future holds, and be hopeful and live with joy in the day to day. Incompatible emotions combat within us simultaneously. A 3rd structure in Megilat Eicha is seeing the entire book of 5 chapters as a chiastic structure. As Dr. Yael Ziegler stunningly details in her book Lamentations: Faith in A Turbulent World, chapters 1 and 5 have thematic and linguistic parallels as do chapters 2 and 4. While the outer rings of 1 and 5 “arrive at a measure of theological equilibrium” and conclude that God is just, in the inner rings which describe destruction, famine and intense suffering, “chapters 2 and 4 never attain theological tranquility.”  She continues, “The book’s chiastic structure…proposes that humans should balance two conflicting approaches…simple, pure faith in God’s world and incensed dismay over its incomprehensibility…Despite the turbulence that surrounds him, the sufferer (chapter 3) can find tranquility and faith in his innermost being” (Dr. Yael Ziegler, Lamentations, p 525-527).

Living with emunah does not mean that we do not question God or that we are never angry . We are all experiencing different degrees of grief and loss in this difficult time. The beauty of Eicha’s chiastic structure presented by Dr. Ziegler is that it gives a sturdy foundation for what so many individuals naturally experience. On “the outside” (chapters 1 and 5) we often put on a strong face of “thank God, everything is good” and this is coming from a place of emunah, simple faith, and it helps us to move forward. Simultaneously, we might feel inner fury and turmoil (chapters 2 and 4) and silently, or privately, rage at God. While we may wonder if we are living a farce, truly, this duality is part of the complex nature of being human. We are masters at holding two opposing emotions at once.

The secret to balancing the two, is found in the center of the book’s chiasm, chapter 3.

זֹאת אָשִׁיב אֶל לִבִּי עַל כֵּן אוֹחִיל׃ חַסְדֵי ה’ כִּי לֹא תָמְנוּ כִּי לֹא כָלוּ רַחֲמָיו׃  חֲדָשִׁים לַבְּקָרִים רַבָּה אֱמוּנָתֶךָ:

חֶלְקִי ה’ אָמְרָה נַפְשִׁי עַל־כֵּן אוֹחִיל לוֹ׃

This I shall place upon my heart, therefore I hope. For the kindnesses of Hashem do not cease, nor is His compassion exhausted. They are renewed every morning, great is Your faithfulness. “Hashem is my portion,” my soul says, therefore I will hope in Him.  (Eicha 3:21-24)

We are a people who survive and thrive because we have that inner voice, speaking to our hearts, reminding us to hold on to hope and belief in God’s never-ending kindness. We raise our spirits daily upon arising, thanking Hashem as we say “modah ani,” for every new day is a blessing. We end the short prayer with the words רַבָּה אֱמוּנָתֶך, great is Your faith and trust in us. This phrase, which unexpectedly comes from Eicha (3:23) encourages us to live life to the fullest, in whatever capacity we are able.

As Edith Eger, Holocaust survivor, writes, “at Auschwitz, at Mauthausen, on the Death March, I survived by drawing on my inner world… We are overwhelmed by loss and think we will never recover a sense of self and purpose, that we will never mend. But despite- and, really, because of – the struggles and the tragedies in our lives, each of us has the capacity to gain the perspective that transforms us from victim to thriver” (Eger, The Choice, p. 174, 234). We hold on to the belief that there is some sense and structure to the world, that alef to tav, God is with us. We can heal and grieve, move forward and circle back, have simple faith and inner fury. May we all heed our inner voice, which speaks to the heart- “this I shall place upon my heart, therefore I hope,” and be the voice of hope in the conversation of humankind.