The meal of condolence, Seudat Havraah, the first full meal that the mourners eat upon returning from the interment, is traditionally provided by the neighbors and friends of the bereaved. So important was this basic courtesy that the sages of the Jerusalem Talmud admonished neighbors who caused the bereaved to eat of his own prepared meal. They even pronounced a curse upon them for displaying such callousness and indifference to the plight of their fellow men.

This beautiful custom, which may appear strange to some American Jews, possesses profound psychological insights. One astute medieval rabbi, obviously of the pre-Freudian era, observed that the mourner harbors a strong death wish at the moment he returns home to the familiar surroundings now bereft of warmth and life. His wish is to join his beloved. In this frame of mind he would tend to deprive himself of food in order to achieve a symbolic death. Indeed, a comment frequently heard is, “Who can eat when my husband lies dead in the cold, friendless earth?”

Another aspect of the meal of condolence is that it is the second formal expression of consolation. The first is the parallel rows of friends through which the bereaved walk as they depart from the gravesite. That is a silent tribute, with only a Hebrew formula of condolence, but it is eloquent testimony that we share the pangs of our neighbor’s anguish. This second stage of condolence takes us one step closer to the mourner in his state of misery; we move from the role of spectator to participant, from sentiment to service. We bring the mourner the sustenance of life, figuratively and literally, the “bread” of his existence. That is why this meal of condolence is mandatory upon the neighbors and friends, and not the mourners themselves. The meal should not be an occasion for socializing or for idle chatter. This is discouraged during the period of mourning and, in any case, is in very poor taste.

The third formal occasion of consolation, the shiva visitation, is the time that is ripe for the beginning of the mourner’s verbalization of his feeling of loss. Here, too, the rabbis urge the visitors to sit in silence until the bereaved himself desires to speak. Even then, the rabbis advise visitors to speak only on the subject of the death in the family. How often do we stray from this custom and turn the shiva into a party as opposed to a gathering of friends to support and strengthen the mourners. When visiting during Shivah or participating in services, it would be better to keep in mind the traditional words of condolence that began the mourning period when we recited to the bereaved as they left the cemetery; “Hamakom y’nachem etchem b’toch sh’ar aveiley tziyon virushalayim”, May the Lord comfort you amongst the other mourners for Zion and Jerusalem, as we come together in memory of their loved ones.