Personal Parsha Prose

Parshas Va’Eschanan is always read on Shabbas Nachamu, the Shabbas after Tisha B’Av. It is the parsha that extols the connection of Hashem and Bnei Yisrael, which should reflect the deeper experience of Tisha B’Av. This is the time when we see Hashem in our pain, when we recognize that our tragedies are a reflection of our distance from Him, and that it is up to us to work on bringing ourselves closer so that Hashem can remove the cloud of hester panim, of His hiding Himself away. 

If we are honest with ourselves, we understand that the distance we experience today – the distance from Hashem and the distance from our own inner spirituality – is our own fault. Humanity has such a great desire to assert its independence and to challenge the status quote that we often break away from our spiritual core in our attempt to grasp it. We want proof of God and proof of our neshama because that is, many wrongfully believe, the only way we can understand the Divine. Somewhere deep within us, we have this notion that if we could just “see” the Divine then all of our problems would be solved, but, really, the solution lies in NOT seeing Hashem. 

Parshas Vaeschanan contains one of the core prayers of Jewish life: Shema Yisrael Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad. HEAR o’ Israel Hashem is our God, Hashem is One. Not See – Hear. The act of seeing is rooted in the physical. If I can see it, I don’t have to have faith since I have evidence. I don’t have to do any internal work to accept and understand.  Hearing, on the other hand, is an internal process. Sound enters our ears, so to speak, and reverberates throughout our being. They say that the eyes are windows to the soul, but you don’t enter through a window. The entry doors, then, are the ears – for they are responsible for hearing, for listening. 

Moshe understood the human desire for something physical. Afterall, he remembered the first generation’s reaction to his delayed return from Har Sinai, how they demanded that Aaron create the Golden Calf because they feared that they had lost Moshe, their physically visible connection to Hashem. And so Moshe says to the people gathered at the border of the Promised Land: “For your souls’ sakes, therefore, be most careful—since you saw no shape when Hashem spoke to you at Horeb out of the fire—” (Devarim 4:15) and reminds them of all the prohibitions of creating forms of avodah zarah. This is Moshe warning the people that they will never be able to make Hashem concrete because, as they experienced, He is so much vaster than the visible world.

Rabbeinu Bahya explains this pasuk as a statement of truth: “Seeing that you know clearly that you did not see any phenomenon, image, at the time when Hashem revealed Himself, you must take care in the future never to make such a likeness…”  (Translation from Sefaria). You must take care in the future not to believe that there can ever be such a likeness. A physical likeness of Hashem would be limiting, and Hashem is limitless. 

There is an interesting thing about the idea of hester panim, about the hidden face of Hashem. Panim is a plural word, always. Why? There are many responses to this question, but one such answer might be that a face is a reflection. People see in one another’s face mirrors of themselves. When we smile at someone, they most often smile back. When we like someone, they become beautiful. Our neshamos are reflections of Hashem. When Hashem hid His face from us, it also meant we lost something of ourselves, and that something, perhaps, is an understanding of our strength as spiritual creations. 

Noting how Devarim 4:15 refers to guarding nefshoseichem, your souls, Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsh draws attention back to the interconnectedness of the soul to the Divine. The emuna that we inherited from Avraham Avinu is not something one can assess in one’s physical DNA. There’s no chromosome. It’s a “mutation” so to speak, in one’s spiritual DNA. It’s a link through that which cannot be seen or touched. This, according to Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsh, can be learned from this pasuk:

“…Besides God, there is only one other being of whose individual reality and personal existence, although invisible and unable to be realised by any of our physical senses, each one of us bears within himself the direct certainty of conviction, and that is our soul, our נפש. It is that, therefore, which reflecting back on oneself makes one comprehend the real existence of something which is invisible and intangible, and by the certainty of the conviction of one’s own self comprehend the conviction of the existence of God. As sure as we are of the existence of our own self so are we of the existence of God.” (translation from Sefaria)

The self of spirituality exists on a plane that we cannot see and we cannot touch. The questioning of God leaves us with the question of how we each are who we are because “nature vs nurture” and gene predictions still can’t explain the whole. But if you are very quiet and you listen, you can start to understand that the very nature of humankind, the very nature of the world itself, is all one and that one is Hashem. This is the truth that we will see – yes, see – in the time of Beis Hamikdash, bmheira biyameinu. 

I wish you all a beautiful Shabbas.

Sefer Devarim begins with Moshe’s recounting of the journey of Bnei Yisrael after they received the Torah. It is interesting, however, that in the first perek of his recounting Moshe deliberates on two points: the creation of the system of judges and the reaction of the people during the reports of the scouts. The question, of course, is why these two items are so specifically detailed, and the answer might very well be because they demonstrate the contentious nature of Bnei Yisrael. 

 Sefer Devarim is understood to be both a review of the people’s history and a prophecy of all that will come to Israel. Integral to that future would be both our structured community order and, unfortunately, our penchant for questioning Hashem and getting ourselves in trouble. This latter trait, alas, has seen us, time and again, in the cross-hairs of Hashem’s ire, at a point where Hashem finds it necessary to bring forth all of the dire warnings we have been given in order to remind us of the role we accepted at Sinai. 

 When you look at Devarim as prophecy, the following pasukim stand out as having an interesting opportunity for interpretation:

 “Yet for all that, you have no faith in the Hashem your God, who goes before you on your journeys—to scout the place where you are to encamp—in fire by night and in cloud by day, in order to guide you on the route you are to follow. Upon hearing your loud complaint, Hashem became angry and vowed: Not one of those involved, this evil generation, shall see the good land that I swore to give to your fathers—" (Devarim 1:32-35).

 Moshe is speaking of a very specific incident and yet perhaps it could be understood as more. The place we are to encamp is our ultimate destination, the time when we achieve the status of a goy Kadosh and a mamleches kohanim. To reach that role, we must be able to truly recognize our dynamic relationship with Hashem. Sadly, however, like our ancestors, we often lack faith in Hashem and the future because we fail to recognize the fire by night or the cloud in the day; we fail to understand Hashem’s constant guidance as referenced by the fire and the cloud.

 The fire in the night represents – perhaps - those times that might be labeled difficult - in truth, tragic. Fire is hot and dangerous. Fire burns away the fringes. But think of a forest fire, a necessary act of nature so that the forest can grow back stronger and fresher. When we “have no faith in Hashem,” we fail to see that these challenges serve a purpose. It allows us to grow stronger.

 The cloud by day represents the good times, the times of success – the times when the Jewish people flourish and thrive – the day. Why then, you might ask, “a cloud”? In the good times, Hashem is also obscured. He hides behind a cloud so that we do not see Him directly; and He does so with good purpose. Hashem needs Bnei Yisrael to follow His path with absolute bechira, free will, and so He hides Himself away. But we, in our stubborn, human existence, fail to see beyond the cloud. 

 Thus it is that Moshe’s words in Devarim 1:32-33 describe the future – our present – in which the Jewish people (and yes this means both frum people and not frum people) lack in emuna. That lack, that inability to hold on to our faith in God (although, thank God, there are many exceptions) leads to the delay in the ultimate redemption, and thus reflecting Devarim 1:35: “Not one of those involved, this evil generation, shall see the good land that I swore to give to your fathers—”

 It’s hard, if you pay attention to what is going on in the world, not to find correlations. Hashem gave us the opportunity to return to the Promised Land, but now, as our enemies grow bolder – as lies permeate the news with the conviction of fact – there are Jews themselves that are digging a hole for our people. We have, Baruch Hashem, many Kalevs and Yehoshuas, many people who understand the incredible nature of Eretz Yisrael and the relationship of Bnei Yisrael with Hashem. But there are far too many around the world who believe the lies about themselves – and it is both terrifying and depressing to watch because all of our history is already laid out for us if we look in the Torah. 

 Right now, we seem to be approaching “night” and the fire seems to be getting hotter for Jews around the world. if there is one way to turn back the tidal wave of anti-Semitism, it is right here: Emuna. Belief – beyond belief. Not only must we embrace and strengthen our emunah, but we must use our emuna to fulfill the Torah. 

 (Please note, it is clear in the Torah that the pillar of fire and the cloud were matters of Divine protection. This Dar Torah is just looking at them metaphorically in light of the world today.)

 MAZAL TOV! Parshas Devarim is the anniversary of these Divrei Torah, the first of which “Eleh Devarim”, was published in 5778 (2018).  Here is the link – https://cthedawn.blogspot.com/2018/07/these-are-words.html - and it is terribly sad how similar the message is – and to think how far that date was from October 7th and the world we live in now!

 May Hashem Moshiach bmherya biyamenu. Have a beautiful Shabbas, which is a taste of the world to come.

In this week’s Parsha, Parshas Matos Masai, the thirty-third chapter of Sefer Vayikra provides a repetitively phrased detailing of the travelling of Bnei Yisrael. They traveled here. They travelled there. They travelled here. They travelled there, and so forth and so on. 

Not surprisingly, the great list of journeying begins in Mitzrayim: “They set out from Ramses in the first month…” However, rather than just recording the journey, as is done for most of the rest of the perek, the Torah includes some extra details: “It was on the morrow of the Pesach offering that Bnei Yisrael started out defiantly, in plain view of all the Egyptians. And the Egyptians were burstory. We all known the joke about Jewish hoying the dead that Hashem had struck down among them – every first born – whereby Hashem executed judgement on their gods” (Vayikra 33:3-4).

These details are fascinating because, if you think about it, these two brief, dare I say poetic, verses stated a truth about Jewish history. The Mitzrim are the protype of our oppressors throughout hilidays– they came to kill us, we won, let’s eat… well, except for the eating part. Remember, almost all of our great enemies are gone from the world, but we are still here. 

One of the hardest truths for we as people to understand is that every great oppression that we as a nation faced was purposeful. Let’s take a biblical step back to Bereishis. The oppression of Bnei Yisrael in Mitzrayim was not a twist of fate; it was divinely orchestrated. The Mitzrim, on a celestial level, were given a Divine role to help shape the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov by pressuring them – as promised to Avraham at the Bris Bein Habaturim. And the common question is: If Hashem told Avraham that the people would be oppressed, why were the Mitzrim punished in such a devastating way. The answer: they took it too far. And, really, it’s all there in the Torah.

If you think back to Shemos, the enslavement of the Israelites began with what could be seen as a logical concern. They were worried about a minority population taking power. Slavery seems like a terrible and drastic measure to us, but not 100% impossible to understand. This logical concern was the permitted oppression – the oppression that Hashem foretold to Avraham during the bris bein habaturim. However, Pharoah and his Egyptians found more and more reasons to be paranoid of the Jews. When Pharoah started ordering babies killed, this no longer had anything to do with the oppression Hashem needed Bnei Yisrael to go through. This was when they took the power Hashem had given them and abused it, and this is the reason that the Mitzrim eventually suffered so drastically that they could barely acknowledge Bnei Yisrael were leaving (as noted in our quoted pasukim, Vayikra 33:3-4). 

In an era like the one that appears to be unfolding before us now, the world keeps trying to point to a legitimate reason for their hatred. They point to Israel but attack all Jews because, really, anti-Semitism is the super-natural vehicle pushing Bnei Yisrael in the direction of redemption. And in such an era, we cannot lose sight of these verses: “…Bnei Yisrael started out defiantly, in plain view of all the Egyptians. And the Egyptians were burying the dead that Hashem had struck down among them…” It is an incredible reminder. This too shall pass, and we shall remove ourselves from our enemies in their clear view, but they will be too busy picking up the pieces to be able to witness the Divine hand. 

Those who have chosen to go beyond reason and logic in their hatred of the Jewish people will be struck down, and we, who have held fast to our faith, will walk out defiantly and in plain view. 

Am Yisrael Chai and Shabbat Shalom. 

The immediate thought when one sees a title like “Do You Stand Out” for Parshas Pinchas is that it is an obvious grab at a Dvar Torah. The parsha opens with Hashem publicly commending Pinchas for standing up for His honor. Pinchas’ actions, as the commentaries relay, could, with just a slight variance of moment, with a slight shift in intent, have been a crime. However, because his intentions were correct and his actions were done in just the right way, because his only thought was for Hashem, Pinchas became a Cohen with his brothers and Klal Yisrael learned what purposeful zealotry was. 

Pinchas, however, is not the only one who stands out in this parsha. One could almost call it a motif. For instance, here too is where five women -  Machlah, No’ah, Choglah, Milkah, and Tirtzah – distinguish themselves in the Torah.  It is often mentioned how rare women are named in the Torah (although the genealogical recounting in Parshas Pinchas pauses, so to speak, to callout both Serach and Yocheved), and that reflects the true greatness of these 5 women because being named in the Torah with details – outside of a genealogical listing – represents significant action.

 Again, like Pinchas’ zealotry, this is a popular topic for divrei Torah. These women didn’t let convention stop them from approaching Moshe and asking for the right to inherit. And, again, like Pinchas, one can imagine that their actions when they first approached Moshe raised some eyebrows.

It is not just the fact that these were five women who approached Moshe – although that is not without its significance – it is the fact that they requested a change to Torah that had been delivered to them. It is interesting to note that there are only two examples (although I could be wrong) of Moshe being approached to change the law after it has been given. One is the request that led to Pesach Sheni, and the other is the request of the tribe Reuven and Gad to stay on the far side of Yarden. Having the courage to make a case for themselves is significant – all the more so, as with Tzelaphchad’s daughters and the men who asked for Pesach Sheni, when it is done l’shem shemayim. 

Their actions could, perhaps, be interpreted as acts of quiet zealotry.  While Pinchas had only moments to act, Tzelaphchad’s daughters received the law, processed it, and refused to accept that their family branch would be cut off from their inheritance in the Land of Israel. That last bit is the important part. The daughters’ concern was for a portion of the Promised Land, not gold or jewels or wealth. Their concern was to have their father’s household be equal in its elevation. 

This parsha contains the public acknowledgement of greatness of one other person: Yehoshua. Like Pinchas, Yehoshua’s significant actions are not recounted in this parsha. However, when Hashem tells Moshe that he will not enter the Promised Land and Moshe requests that Hashem appoint a leader, Hashem tells Moshe to take Yehoshua bin Nun, “asher ruach bo” – who has a spirit in him. 

What does the spirit mean? One idea is that it refers to the midrash of the yud added to his name before he entered the land of Canaan with the other scouts, how Moshe subtly changed his name to give him extra spiritual strength in the journey to come. This extra experience changes him and leads him to grow into the person best able to succeed Moshe. 

The fact is that the congregation did turn against them during the reporting of the spies, but they held their ground. And afterwards, they could have been looked at with aspersion for having brought havoc upon the people by contesting the majority. But that didn’t stop them.  In a piece on Parshas Shelach, Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacs notes that having the ability to stand apart was not difficult for Calev as he had the natural spiritual courage inherited through his descendance from Yehuda. Yehoshua, however, had no such support. He had to work for it. In fact, Moshe even recognized that when he changed his name from Hoshua to Yehoshua. The name change, according to Rabbi Sacs, tells us something important. “Anyone who has experienced a name change has been inducted into a growth mindset.” That stayed with him, and Hashem here recognizes his significance.

Pinchas, Tzelaphchad’s daughters, and Yehoshua were all honored in the Torah because their actions, which could have been misconstrued or caused them to be derided by Klal Yisrael, were of pure intent. They are praised because they stood up for Hashem. 

It should, however, be noted, that the parsha also expands itself when it lists the names of Dasan and Aviram as the sons of Nemuel of the tribe of Reuven  (as well as Kozbi, the seductive Midianitess – not to leave out a wicked woman). Dasan and Aviram stood up for the wrong thing. They, the commentaries say, were the actual instigators more-so than Korach, and their deeds are repeated here. They stood up for the wrong thing and are so castigated.

Most people will not have the opportunity in their lives to stand out the way Pinchas, Tzelaphchad’s daughters, and Yehoshua did. Nevertheless, they are people we can – and must – use as role models. We must look to Pinchas to remember that it is important to call out what is wrong, but to do so in the proper way. We must look to Machlah, No’ah, Choglah, Milkah, and Tirtzah to know that it is important to ask questions within the law because the Torah is a living law. We must look to Yehoshua to not stop at one great act but to ride forward on our spiritual strengths. Most of us may never rise to such true greatness, but we still need to find our own ways to stand out. 

Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas

Parshas Chukat Balak: Unseen But Very Present

Dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Chana Zelda bat Gittel Yita,  Chaya Sarah bas Esther Leah, Moshe Aaron ben Necha Itta, Binyamin ben Simcha, and Yaakov ben Esther Malka. And L'ilui Neshama Masha Frayda bas Binyamin.

Let me start this week’s parasha piece of with a question: Do you feel puzzled, on some level, by the current surge in anti-semitism? Does it leave you, as it does me, with a desire to ask what exactly is going on in the universe? If you have any access to social media, you are too well versed in the irrational avalanche that is cascading against us. 

Here’s the thing about the world that is so fascinatingly brought out by this week’s parasha. What you think you know is going on in the world is only a particle of truth of what is going on in the world. Let me explain with a detour… Are you familiar with the not so trivial trivia question of which parsha does not contain the name of Moshe? The correct answer is Tetzaveh, but Parshas Balak comes awfully close. Moshe is mentioned in this Parsha (when not paired with Chukas) only 4 times, and those in Perek 25, which recounts the events after Balaam tried to curse Bnei Yisrael. 

Perhaps you think I did not explain my declaration concerning our complete ignorance of what is going on in the world. Well, in the entire three perakim that describe Bilaam’s hiring and his attempts to curse Bnei Yisrael, the term Israel is only mentioned 12 times – out of 81 verses (in 3 chapters). And each of those times is explaining either the view point of Bilaam or are part of his cursed blessings. 

What is missing in this entire section of the Torah is any indication of what Bnei Yisrael was experiencing at the time. Imagine, our forefathers were just pleasantly encamped, and, somewhere high above them, there is a powerful man shouting that which was meant to be a curse upon them. Imagine, our forefathers were going about their daily lives collecting manna, and, on a not-so-distant mountain, brachos – blessings – are being rained down upon them. And all the while they have no clue – zip, zero, nadda. There is no line in the Torah such as: “And Bnei Yisrael looked up from their tents and heard the words of Balaam,” Or …”saw their enemy above them.” Or even, in anyway knew who Balak or Balaam actually were at that point. There is no pasuk that speaks of Moshe trying to stop Balaam or asking Bnei Yisrael to daven that his words be reversed. 

Parshas Balak reflects a truth of the world. There is SO much more happening around us that we don’t see, so what we do see must always be understood as limited. 

Interestingly, one question that has been asked is why Balak was panicking. From a geopolitical standpoint, one could argue that he was panicking because Bnei Yisrael had just defeated the Emorites and the Bashonites, which is true - but the entire fighting came about as defensive action after the Israelites asked for permission to cross through their lands. Balak, however, is Moav, and Hashem had no intention of Moav being displaced. But all these events take place before Bnei Yisrael even get there. Balak’s narrative starts off with him and his people being in a panic over the Israelites – who haven’t done anything to them. 

Propaganda. False rumors. Fear mongering…. Panick and attack…and beyond all that are the orchestrations of Hashem. Sometimes, such as in Parshas Balak, our people come away unscathed (although real damage occurs in the aftermath), Other times, we face tremendous challenges, and we go through a terrible and difficult period of suffering and then growth. At all times, however, there is far more going on then we see. Above us, beyond us, away from us… curses are turned into blessings.

So may we see it soon. 

I wish you all a good Shabbas

Here is a question on Parshas Korach… 

The story of Korach begins like this: “Korach son of Yitzhar son of Kehat son of Levi took himself aside, together with Dathan and Aviram sons of Eli’av, and On son of Pelet, descendants of Reuben. They confronted Moshe together with 250 men from the Israelites, including the princes of the community, summoned for the meeting, and other men of repute. They assembled against Moshe and Aaron. They said to them, ‘You take too much upon yourselves, for the entire community—all of them—are holy, and God is in their midst. Why do you raise yourselves above God’s assembly?’” (Bamidbar 16:1-3)

Two hundred and fifty men…That’s not Korach and a few neighbors on the block. That’s not a spontaneous reaction. That’s planning. That’s setting about and shmoozing to encourage and enflame. So why doesn’t the Torah relay Korach’s actions of creating this small mob? Then again, one could also ask: Why doesn’t the Torah straight out say what the Midrash tells us, that Korach was jealous, that he wanted to be elevated the way his cousins (Moshe and Aaron) were?

Obviously, these are rhetorical questions because the Torah is full of narratives whose motivations are obscure. Just look at how ambiguously Yaakov’s interactions with Esav are described. But let’s explore one idea… We know from the end actions that Korach was full of negative feelings about the choice of leaders. We know, from the Midrash, that his discontent was stirred and enhanced by his wife. We know, from the first pasuk, that he joined himself with Dasan and Aviram, who were already marked as malcontents. He didn’t, one can assume, speak only to the 250 people who agreed with him; we can assume that there were people he talked to who disagreed … He was probably walking around fuming from within for several days before he steps forth into the parsha.

So what? Well, one thing about the Torah is that, in so many ways, it affirms being human. It recognizes that we have negative feelings and it gives room for them. He’s not punished for the before. The question is what do we do with those feelings. Do we find a way to understand the situation from a new angle, find a way to fix a problem, find away to take on a new role and perspective, or do we, ya know, lead a rebellion. 

The very suddenness of Korach’s rebellion has allusion to its insipient nature. We know Korach was sneaking around because there is no statement of a grumbling started among the people of Israel. There is just Korach and Dasan and Aviram bringing 250 men to confront Moshe and Aaron. All his work was kept in the dark recesses so as not to draw attention. If it feels secretive, it probably isn’t wholesome. 

Now, you may ask an obvious question. How is one to know if their complaint is legitimate? We see in history that sometimes change is necessary, and that undercurrent gatherings like Korach’s are powerful forces of change. … the fact is that Korach’s choice of bringing a group with complaint to Moshe could be seen as him making a legitimate move.

The turnkey phrase is the last line of the third verse  “Why do you raise yourselves above God’s assembly?” Korach wasn’t asking why Moshe and Aaron merited their positions; he is asking why they raised themselves above. He is revealing a lack of bitachon that Hashem runs the world even in minutia, that Hashem structured Klal Yisrael this way. He is making it personal – raise yourselves up, indeed!

And perhaps we should address the other side of that coin of humanity, which is Moshe’s initial reaction because, really, if you think about it, it is an incredibly strange reaction. He fell on his face before them and called on Hashem to judge the truth.

The most normal reaction would anger… despair… both normal. And really, probably most normal… incredulity. Moshe had every reason to turn around and laugh at what they said, or to sarcastically question their sanity. Moshe would have every right to have gone off on a mad tirade about taking too much upon himself when he faced down Pharoah or led the nation through the sea or was the one who went up to Har Sinai when all the rest of Bnei Yisrael were too afraid. Instead, Moshe took everything that they said to heart, and he took them seriously. 

Perhaps you are right now thinking that Moshe DID get mad. You’re right.. but only later, only after Dasan and Aviram blatantly and rudely refuse to meet with him and, instead, accused him of bad leadership and even verbally spit at him in Pasuk 16:14 by saying “Even if you gouge out the eyes of those men, we will not go up.” Only then does he get angry.

But after the group first comes to him, Moshe really stops and worries and asks Hashem to make a judgement, because unlike their accusations, Moshe assumes that there is a possibility of truth to their accusation. 

This piece is going to wind down ineloquently… there are lots of lessons one can take from the Parsha of Korach, but perhaps one of the most important one is that in ourselves and in others, we must recognize (as Hashem does throughout the Torah) how utterly human each of us is. You may have feelings of jealousy; you’re human. You may have moments of insecurity; you’re human. When those feelings and moments come, accept your humanity but look to Hashem for guidance, cling to the Torah for a way to overcome and elevate. 

This week’s parsha, Parshas Shelach, contains one of the most well-known stories of Bnei Yisrael in the desert – the story of the spies. Actually, I prefer the term scouts, so I will use that henceforth because it is more accurate as to what their initial endeavor was meant to be.  They were checking out the land that they were going to conquer…and then it became more of the conceptual idea of spies because from the perception of 10 of the scouts, they were now spying on enemies. 

The story of the meraglim covers a large portion of the parsha and takes most of the attention. Following the scouting and spying, following the crying of the nation, and following the disastrous decision of a large group of Israelites to try to enter the promised land after all of that, the Torah reverts to laws, and in the sixth aliyah there is an interesting set of pasukim: “If you-all unwittingly fail to observe any one of the commandments that Hashem has declared to Moshe—anything that Hashem has enjoined upon you-all through Moshe—from the day that Hashem gave the commandment and on through the ages. If this was done unwittingly, through the inadvertence of the community, the whole community shall present …. The whole Israelite community and the stranger residing among them shall be forgiven, for it happened to the entire people through error” (Vayikra 15:23-24, 26). 

When you realize how close this is to the narrative of the scout – separated, really, only by the command to separate challah… food of thought for another time… it makes us look back and think about the significance of unwitting actions. 

Let’s look back at the meraglim. These men were chosen because of who they were. They were leaders, great men. Surely those men did not go with the intention of creating problems or rejecting Hashem’s plan, THAT would have been mentioned in the Torah, one would surmise. They got to the promised land, panicked, and returned to then publicly mislead Bnei Yisrael about Eretz Canaan. 

They did something that had terrible consequences, but they, most likely, started off with good intentions. One of the most critical and fascinating aspects of Jewish life is how significant intention is. Not always, but often, one’s intention can shape, on a spiritual level, the effectiveness of one’s actions.  This is important because, if you hadn’t noticed, most of us are pretty darn human. Humans mess up all the time, make mistakes all the time, but Hashem knows that; He expects that.  Most of the time our mistakes are harmless, but sometimes they are massive. And, in truth, even when it comes to mistakes, intention matters. 

The mefarshim actually explain these verse, 15:23 on, as referring to idolatry – when the whole group goes astray on idolatry. Basically, if you, you know, accidentally start worshiping false gods…which, to you and me of the 21st century, sounds rather ridiculous. Religious actions, one would think, should be very intentional thing given that they are centered on devotion. Let’s go back to the meraglim…

The meraglim were great men. Each man was a leader of his tribe. They were devout. They wanted to serve Hashem -- And they went wrong. Should not this idea have applied to them? Did they really expect to infect all of Bnei Yisrael with doubt? One hopes not, but they also didn’t stop when they were corrected. And they also weren’t the whole community, since Yehoshua and Calev were trying, in vain, to defend Eretz Yisrael. They had warning even as they were leading the klal astray, and they, the 10 leaders, ignored it.

The meraglim were not evil men of ill intent. They set out with honest goals, then, unwittingly, took the wrong message from everything they saw and refused to be reminded of the wonders that Hashem does. Had they listened to Yehoshua and Calev…well, the story would be different then, wouldn’t it. For now, let us just take this as a reminder that even with the best intentions one can go astray, but once one goes astray, all is not lost if one realizes the error of his ways.

Wishing you a beautiful Shabbas… and really hoping I made sense!

This week’s parsha post will be rather quirky because, alas, I am still working my way through my pile of grading… It’s the raw side of being a teacher. Speaking of teachers, I see a particularly easy segue into this week’s Dvar Torah: How do we know that Moshe Rabbeinu was the first of Klal Yisrael’s teachers? It’s right there in pasuk 16:14 – “I cannot carry all this people by myself, for it is too much for me.” – Every teacher has days when they have just this feeling! 

In all seriousness, however, in the middle of Parshas Behaaloscha, after Bnei Yisrael are led by the eruv rav to want meat over manna, Moshe “heard the people weeping, every clan apart, at the entrance of each tent” (16:10). And he goes to Hashem fed up and frustrated. The people are too much…why? It isn’t their complaints specifically; Moshe knows that Hashem can do what ever is needed. It’s the complaining. It’s that when people get to that level of complaint, they are not able to be talked down – they aren’t able to see that they are being unreasonable. 

But, it’s also more than that. Moshe is an empath…Moshe feels their pain – his deep caring and empathy long proven beginning from the connection to the Israelite slaves even as he lived in the palace and through his days as a shepherd when he worried even after one little lamb. Imagine being an empath and all that feeling of urgent want coming at you. Moshe wants Bnei Yisrael to feel secure, which they expressively do not. He wants them to feel secure not just because it will make his life much easier, but because he KNOWS that there really is no better place to be than where they are at and they just can’t see it as he does. He wants them to understand the world with the Divinely guided senses that he has, and they can’t, and that hurts him. 

Hashem understands. Hashem sees that Moshe’s seeming anger is actually pain. And so Hashem tells Moshe: “Gather for Me seventy men from the elders of Israel of whom you have experience as elders and officers of the people, and bring them to the Tent of Meeting and let them take their place there with you.”

Now I may be an English teacher, but mathematically speaking 70 doesn’t seem like quite enough to manage the needs of all of Bnei Yisrael. If there are 600,000 men of fighting age, then there are far more than a million in total… and just 70 elders plus Moshe. Also, if you hadn’t noticed, 70 is not divisible by 12, so it wasn’t as if Hashem was setting up a representational system in that every tribe had the same number of elders. 

Since I am an Engllish teacher, I will present a metaphoric idea. Seventy represents the bones of the nation.  In many ways, seventy is a continuum. It’s the multiplication of teva, nature, with infinity. Numerous commentaries bring down the correlation of the 70 elders to 70 descendants of Israel who came down to Egypt with Yaakov. What is important about that correlation? Over and over, Jewish society is built on 70. These were not the first seventy elders (though the first 70 died in Terebitha), and they were not the last (Indeed, did not Napoleon gather 70 rabbis plus one to try to form a new Sanhedrin!) But more than that, human civilization is built on 70. At the tower of Bavel, the Midrash says, Hashem split the people into 70 languages, and throughout the Midrash and aggadata we hear of the 70 nations. 

With Moshe and 70 elders, Hashem was laying down the foundation of building civilization, because a civil society needs a multi-faceted government. Everything cannot depend on one person or they either abuse that power or give up, the way Moshe feels in this perek, because there are so many different needs and different personality types and different ways of finding solutions. And 70 seems the perfect numerical unit for addressing this plurality of needs…an idea aligned with a statement in Bamidbar Rabbah – not connected to this particular perek – that reminds us that shivim panim bTorah, there are 70 faces to the Torah.

This brings us to another concept brought down by quite a few commentators. Rashi attributes the idea to Sifrei Bamidbar. The commentary stems from the fact that Hashem did not literally say 70 men of the elders of Israel, He says 70 man – eesh – of the elders. He uses the singular. This, along with the description, “of whom you have experience as elders and officers of the people” lead us to understand that the men Hashem specifically had in mind were particularly unique, as Rabbeinu Bahya put it:  “G’d meant that Moses was aware that the people in question had demonstrated empathy for the people in Egypt absorbing physical punishment on their own bodies rather than inflicting it on their charges. The officers were the ones of whom we read in Shemos 5:14 that ‘they were beaten by their Egyptian counterparts’ for having displayed sympathy for the Jews they were in charge of. They had acquired experience in the qualities needed to deal with the people, and they had established a reputation for fair play.”

Hashem saw that it was Moshe’s empathy that was causing him pain and frustration in dealing with the people, and while that did not feel so good for Moshe, it was exactly what made him a good leader. And Hashem wanted those who would share some of the burden of caring for Bnei Yisrael to have that quality to. 

It was, perhaps, Hashem reminding Moshe  - or the Torah reminding us all – of another fundamental concept. Hashem initially was going to create the world solely through His persona of Elokim – justice, but, before He began, He realized that a world based on justice, rules and laws, would not stand, and so He brought forth His attribute of rachamim, compassion. Moshe wanted help so Hashem sent him the necessary number 70 for setting up a court but made certain that those men were men of empathy, the critical characteristic of a true leader. 

And so, even as I face the chaos at the end of the school year and wonder how we survived the complaints and the challenges, I think back on my students and recognize the special and unique place they hold in my heart, and how I look forward to starting all over again next year… or I will look forward to that, just as soon as I finish these essays. 

An additional thought that came up as I was reading the pasuk: “Gather for Me seventy men from the elders of Israel of whom you have experience as elders and officers of the people, and bring them to the Tent of Meeting and let them take their place there with you.”

I saw commentaries on the use of “lee” to Me, but as I read I was struck by the incredible compassion within Hashem’s response. He doesn’t say get these elders to help you for your sake. Hashem claims these elders. “Gather for Me.” And at the end of the pasuk, He says: vhityazvu sham eemach – they will take their place WITH you.

At this moment of vulnerability for Moshe, Hashem doesn’t thrust another layer of leadership on him. He doesn’t say, “Okay, go form a committee to help you.” He tells Moshe to bring Him the men, that these elders will be His and that they will be WITH Moshe.

It’s a subtle but profound lesson. When someone is overwhelmed, the solution is not to give them an additional level of responsibility…a lesson perhaps in the business world, but in day to day life – When someone is overwhelmed, don’t just tell them an organizational plan that they should implement – don’t add to their pile. Look to help them get out from being overwhelmed first. See the real problem going on.

Parshas Naso: Gifts with Thought

Dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Masha Frayda bas Goldie, Chana Zelda bat Gittel Yita,  Chaya Sarah bas Esther Leah, Moshe Aaron ben Necha Itta, Binyamin ben Simcha, and Yaakov ben Esther Malka.

Parshas Naso is the parsha at the end of which the Princes of the Tribes of Israel bring their gifts to the Mishkan. The gifts are, well, they are a bit of a challenge to read through because they repeat, and repeat, and repeat. As is well known, each of the princes of the tribes gave the exact same gift.

They brought both a silver bowl and a silver basin filled with fine flour with oil, a gold spoon with incense, a young bull, a ram, a 1-year lamb, and a 1-year he-goat, as well as two bulls, five rams, five he-goats and five lambs. 

It is, of course, important to know what the princes brought since this was part of the momentous occasion, but why did Hashem want it written over and over. Once for each prince who brought the exact same thing. Why not just say ‘and each of the princes brought their own gift of:…’ there could even have been a concluding line pointing out how each one was exactly the same. Instead, it repeats what seems to be exact same 5 pasukim 12 times  – which is 638 (58 x 11 repeats) words in a text that we usually speak of as having no excess words.

Some commentators say that the exactness of the repetition is precisely the point, that it expresses the chashivus given to each prince and his offering, so none was more important than the other. Others say that since the Torah does not waste words, we can learn that while the offerings appeared exactly the same, there was something that made each one unique. And, of course, there is the conversation about how the equality of the recording of the princes’ gifts is a reminder that there is no stratification between the tribes of Bnei Yisrael.

This is an obvious launching point for an examination of Klal Yisrael’s need to unify and look at each other as equals. ______(dramatic pause)___________ Ok, well, you all know that. Actually, what seems fascinating when looking at the parsha is to notice that before the great big hullabaloo of the princes’ gift giving, one can easily miss the fact that the princes brought something else. As is noted in Bamidbar 7:13, they also brought six draught carts and twelve oxen - a cart for every two chieftains and an ox for each one. These things, however, were given by all of the princes together. So one cart, two princes with an ox of each drawing the cart. 

The carts, it seems obvious to say, were bringing the gifts of both princes, and one could just assume that this was basic, mundane utility – which, it seems Moshe did, because, as recorded in the next pasuk, Hashem literally had to tell Moshe to accept the carts as part of the offering, not to just unload them as meaningless transport. And this was what the tribal princes had in mind, according to many commentaries. They recognized that all of the artifacts of the Mishkan had to be moved from place to place. 

As may be remembered, the princes brought their gifts now after having declared that they would wait until everyone donated and then give what ever else was needed, but nothing was needed because Bnei Yisrael gave so generously from their hearts. None of the materials for the mishkan were needed, but what about something mundane, like the ability to transport the mishkan. 

The silver bowls and golden spoons and perfect animals for karbanos were the gifts of the princes – the stately gifts that represented their status as leaders and their understanding of the foundations of the people’s avodah. Their intentional delivery of these gifts in ox drawn carts that they also planned to give was a demonstration of thinking one step beyond, one step toward “how can I help my brethren;” for, indeed, these carts were intended for the Leviim from the start of the princes’ planning. But Hashem had to instruct Moshe to see it and recognize it, and this, in many ways, made the carts more valuable than the offerings. 

It is also interesting that the conversation about the carts and the oxen is recorded when the wagons are still laden with the princes’ gifts. Logically, it would make sense that after the carts were empty, after all those repeated verses, and before they were taken away, they were then presented as a gift to the mishkan. Perhaps the order is a subtle reminder of the well-known idea that Hashem values actions that are bein adam lchavero over actions that are bein adam lmakom. 

Perhaps, as well, we have a little lesson hear on the impact of thoughtful giving – giving when one looks and sees a need and does or gives. It sounds simple, even obvious, but seeing an unstated need takes thought and consideration, which is the ideal way to approach everything we do in this world.