Comforting the mourning

Many of us breathe a communal sigh of relief as we emerge from the gloom of the Three Weeks of Mourning. The restrictions are lifted, we begin the seven Haftaroth of consolation, and just six days after Tisha B’Av we celebrate Tu B’Av, which the Talmud describes as one of the happiest days of the year. 

It is therefore no coincidence that the first Shabbat after Tisha B’Av is Shabbat Nachamu, named after the Haftarah in which G-d tells Isaiah, “Comfort, comfort My people”. Rashi explains that from this point onward Isaiah’s prophecies are words of consolation, whereas those preceding them were largely rebuke. The repetition of “comfort” conveys the immense effort required to console a nation that has endured such suffering. The prophet is like a sensitive visitor to a house of mourning, knowing what to say, what not to say, and when silence is more comforting than words. 

Paying a shiva call is never easy. We often feel awkward and may say something trivial or even hurtful in an attempt to comfort. Sometimes the mourner feels obliged to provide refreshments. Our sages, with great sensitivity, therefore established guidelines for visiting a shiva house. 

Perhaps the most important principle appears in Psalms (91:15), “He will call upon Me and I will answer him; I am with him in distress.” G-d does not merely observe our suffering; He shares it. This idea is reflected in Moshe’s encounter with the burning bush. “An angel of Hashem appeared to him in a blaze of fire from amid the bush … the bush was burning in the fire but the bush was not consumed”. The Midrash explains that G-d revealed Himself in a thorn bush rather than a majestic tree to demonstrate that, just as Israel suffered in Egyptian bondage, He too was, as it were, suffering with them. Likewise, simply being present with a mourner, even without speaking, is itself a profound source of comfort. 

The Talmud teaches that “consolers may not begin the conversation until the mourner begins … when he nods his head, that is an indication that the consolers should leave … a mourner is not required to stand up for anyone, even a prince”. These laws emphasise that visitors are there solely to comfort the bereaved. If the mourner remains silent, we should respect that silence. If he speaks, we should listen attentively, avoiding superficial remarks. We should also recognise when the mourner is exhausted and graciously leave, offering the traditional blessing “May the Almighty comfort you among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem”, without expecting to be escorted. 

Sadly, many assume that the bereaved family should provide refreshments, turning the shiva house into a social gathering. The Torah teaches the opposite: friends should provide the mourner’s first meal after the funeral. 

King Solomon concludes, “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for that is the end of all man, and the living should take it to heart”. Rashi explains that visiting mourners is kindness to both the living and the dead, supporting the bereaved while honouring the deceased. Since death is “the end of all man”, we should prioritise comforting mourners, remembering that one day we too may need the consolation we now offer others. 

• Rabbi Matthew Liebenberg, Claremont Wynberg Shul