Friday, June 29, 2012

Parshas Chukas - The Power of a Zechus


Thoughts on the Parsha
Parshas Chukas



The Power of a Zechus
By: Daniel Listhaus

...And Miriam died there....And there was no water for the assembly.”
-Chukas 20:1-2

Rashi1 comments that from the juxtaposition of these passukim (verses) we see that for the entire forty years in the desert prior to this point, the well that the Jews had access to, which followed them on their journey, was only deserved through Miriam's zechus (merit). This is why when she died, the well disappeared and hid among the other rocks.

What was Miriam's zechus which had the capacity of providing drinks to an entire population and their animals in the hot desert for forty years?
Before Moshe Rabbeinu was born, Pharaoh made a decree that all baby boys be killed. Rashi2 writes that in response to this law, Amram, the father of Moshe, divorced his wife, Yocheved. Once he divorced his wife, the rest of the Jews then divorced their wives as well. After all, Amram was the leading Gadol Hador (esteemed leader of the generation) and what he did was viewed as p'sak halacha (halachik ruling) for others to live by. Meanwhile, Miriam had a prophecy that her future brother would be the savior of the Jewish people. So, she went over to her father with the following argument. She said that his “decree” was worse than Pharaoh’s; for Pharaoh only decreed that the boys be killed, yet Amram was essentially preventing both boys and girls from being born. Miriam won the debate, Amram remarried his wife, and as a result, Moshe was born.

When it came to the point in time when it was impossible to hide Moshe from the Egyptians, Yocheved placed Moshe in a homemade basket and sent him along the Nile river. The passuk describes that Miriam stood on the side by the banks of the river to see what would happen to her brother, Moshe. The meforshim (commentaries)3 explain that Miriam received a tremendous mitzva and zechus from standing and watching Moshe. It was this zechus that merited her being the source of providing water to the b'nei Yisroel in the midbar (desert).

The difficulty with this is that the Gemara4 states that the reason Miriam stood and waited by the river was because she was curious if her prophecy would come true. If so, it becomes harder to understand what the huge zechus was. Miriam had a prophecy and wanted to see if it was correct. It seems that the primary reason for her being there was not to babysit Moshe from a distance, but rather out of curiosity if she was correct in her interpretation of her prophecy.

At the end of this week's parsha5, amongst the wars that take place, the giant Og appears on the scene holding a mountain as long and wide as the entire Jewish camp.6 The fact alone that he was threatening the destruction of the entire Jewish population should have indeed been no threat to Moshe and the Jews, because they understood that they had the yad Hashem (“hand” of Hashem) on their side and that nothing could counter such a force. Yet, we see from the fact that Hashem had to tell Moshe, “Do not fear him...”7 that Moshe was indeed afraid, and seemingly, specifically of Og. Rashi8 explains that Moshe was afraid to fight because Og had a zechus on his side. In Parshas Lech-Lecha, the Torah writes9, “And they [the four kings] captured Lot (Avraham's brother-in-law).... And the fugitive came and told Avram...” Rashi10 there comments that the “fugitive” was Og; and that the reason he had suddenly decided to be such a nice, caring person was because of what he intended to do. His intentions were that he hoped Avraham would be killed in battle trying to rescue Lot, and that he would be able to marry Sarah. Nonetheless, despite his intentions, the mere fact that he did a good thing by aiding Avraham, merited him a zechus deserving of reward which, over five-hundred years later, Moshe was afraid to stand up against in battle.

Let us review this one more time, for it is truly mind-boggling. Moshe Rabbeinu was the leader of b'nei Yisroel, he was the messenger of Hashem and the means of bringing forth the plagues upon Mitzrayim. He split the sea, received the Torah, and spoke to Hashem face to face as one speaks to a friend. Og, on the other hand, was a low-life, self centered individual who had one puny merit, which is barely a merit at all as he did it for purely selfish reasons. In a scale balancing Og versus Moshe, the ressult should be that Moshe would weigh down the scale so much and so fast that Og would go flying, catapulted in the air. Was this really something that Moshe had to worry about to the point that Hashem actually had to calm him down and tell him not to worry?

How could we understand these two zechusim working in this week's parsha? The zechus of Miriam and the zechus of Og each seem so small, and a surprising that these are even deemed as merits?

The only way to understand this, is that it must be we see from here the tremendous power of a zechus mitzva. Despite the true reasons behind the good deeds Miriam and Og did, in the end of the day, something good was done – the accomplishment of a mitzva. Such actions create a real force in the world which work as a zechus.

The Gemara11 quotes Rav Yehuda in the name of Rav as saying, “A person should always engage involve himself in [learning] Torah and [performing] mitzvos even if she'lo l'shma (for ulterior motives, instead of learning Torah and doing mitzvos to become closer to Hashem), because from doing them she'lo l'shma, one will eventually come to learn Torah and perform mitzvos for their sake – l'shma. The Gemara then continues to demonstrate this from Balak. In next week's parsha, Balak hires Bilaam to curse the Jews. Bilaam, though, first requests of Balak, to build seven alters and offer karbanos on them to Hashem12. The Gemara explains that because Balak brought forty-two animals to Hashem as karbanos13, he was zocheh to have Rus, and ultimately Dovid Hamelech come from him.

Balak was an extremely wicked person with only one thing in mind – to kill the Jews. Yet, despite the way through which he merited his zechus, his reward was still great. Again, we see the tremendous ramifications of a zechus in this world.

We do not understand how zechusim work, what type of control we have over them, or when Hashem decides to use them on our behalf. One thing is for sure, though, we see that even the power of a seemingly puny zechus is tremendous. Even when the mitzva is done she'lo l'shma, for selfish reasons, or even “accidentally” in order to do something terrible, the mere fact that something positive occurred is enough to create a strong force. How much more so must be the zechus of learning or performing mitzvos l'shma!

May we all merit to recognize the real ramifications of our actions and see the effects of our positive actions in as clear of a way as was visible in the midbar.

1Baidbar 20:2 see also Rashi Gemara Shabbos 35a
2Shemos 2:1
3Sifsei Chochomim Bamidbar 20:2 brings this from Rabbeinu Bechayai
4Sotah 13a
5Bamidbar 21:33
6See Rashi Bamidbar 21:35 who quotes the Gemara Berachos 54b
7Bamidbar 21:34
8Bamidbar 21:34
9Beraishis 14:12-13
10Ibid.
11Horiyos 10b
12Bamidbar 23:1-2
13He built seven alters in three places. On each he offered a bull and a ram. 7 x 3 x 2 = 42

Friday, June 22, 2012

Parshas Korach - To Kill a Mockingbird: Dutch Tulips and Mad Crowd Disease


THoughts on Parsha
Parshas Korach



To Kill a Mockingbird: Dutch Tulips and Mad Crowd Disease
By: Daniel Listhaus

וַיִּקַּח קֹרַח בֶּן יִצְהָר בֶּן קְהָת בֶּן לֵוִי וְדָתָן וַאֲבִירָם בְּנֵי אֱלִיאָב וְאוֹן בֶּן פֶּלֶת בְּנֵי רְאוּבֵן

And Korach the son of Yitzhar son of Kehas son of Levi took...”
-Korach 16:1

Rashi1 and the Medrash2 describe that Korach came to Moshe with the following two questions. The first was, “Does a tallis made entirely of techeiles (blue-dyed wool) require a string of techeiles”? The logic behind this question is that we know that we are required to put tzitzis strings on each corner of every four-cornered garment that we wear.3 The real mitzva of tzitzis includes that one of the strings on each corner be techeiles4. So, essentially, Korach was asking that if, for a regular tallis, a single string of techeiles is enough to fulfill the requirement, then certainly if the whole garment is made of techeiles, it should require no such thing.

The second question that Korach approached Moshe with was pretty similar to his first; “Does a room filled with seforim need a mezuza?” Again, the logical force behind this question is the following. We know that we must put a mezuza, containing the shema, on every doorpost5. So, Korach was asking, if there is a room filled with seforim or Torahs, and those have all the parshiyos in the Torah, why should such a room require a mezuzah? What power would the mezuzah be adding which would not already exist in such a room?

Rashi6 relates that Moshe responded that in both situations there is indeed still an obligation. The mitzva of techeiles does not disappear if the garment is already blue, and the mitzva of mezuza does not vanish when the doorpost leads into a library of Sifrei Torah. Upon telling this to Korach, Korach and the group which was with him began to laugh.

There is a tremendous difficulty with the arguments which Korach presented. The closest form of a valid logical-tool which Korach could have been trying to use here is a kal v'chomer (fortiori argument). If so, Korach's question should have answered itself. A kal v'chomer argument states that if something applies in “situation A”, then it should certainly apply in “situation B”, where it is even more likely to apply. According to this, Korach's kal v'chomer should have said the following: If one string of techeiles works to meet the requirement on a garment that is entirely white, then certainly it will do the trick for a garment that is completely blue. After all, it cannot be any worse than a white garment; it is at least the same, if not better. The same is true of Korach's second kal v'chomer. If a single mezuza on a doorpost to an empty room is enough to fulfill the mitzva, then certainly it should work for a room filled with seforim.

The answers to Korach's questions seem obvious. In fact, he supplied the answers with his own kal v'chomers. Let us consider this for a moment. The reason Korach had the audacity to confront Moshe with such pointless questions is clearly because he was trying to make a point. However, why is it that when Moshe responded to Korach with the correct answers, and seemingly refuted him, Korach va'adaso (and his assembly) just stood there laughing?

The theme of leitzanus (mockery) seems to continue further in the parsha as well. The passuk7 relates that Korach gathered the entire assembly against Moshe and Aharon. Rashi8 describes that the way Korach managed this was through words of mockery. Korach spent the night going from tent to tent with a prepared speech. He essentially announced, “Do you think I am starting this argument just for my own sake? I am doing this for all of you as well! Moshe and Aharon took all the greatest positions for themselves. We have to stop them!”

Why did Korach have to utilize leitzanus in order to accomplish his plan? Why did he not simply challenge Moshe and Aharon to a formal debate?

In the 17th Century, a fascinating event occurred known as the Dutch Tulip Bubble. According to historians, Ogier de Busbecq of the Ottoman Empire was the one who introduced the tulip to Europe in 1554, by sending tulip seeds to Vienna. After a while, tulips began to spread across many European countries. By 1619, tulips had become a commodity in Holland and as the demand for tulips increased while more people entered the tulip market, the prices kept rising to ridiculous heights. This continued until February of 1637 when some tulips reached a price equivalent to between $1000 and $2000 dollars. This was a price equal to about ten times the annual income of a skilled craftsman in those days. At one point, people were too afraid of planting their tulips because they were too expensive to risk.

This is not an example of some European stupidity, nor is it a description of the naiveness of the 1600s. Rather it is an illustration of how far crowd-behavior could go. Crowds tend to behave irrationally. Just the feeling of being part of a greater group makes one feel good, and causes him to care less about realities and truths he may care about as an individual. The mental unity that a crowd or club has to offer has a tremendous impact on personal opinions and beliefs. It changes people from individuals and independent thinkers to being part of a crowd. One's psyche is pushed aside and is instead replaced and shaped to the psychology of the mob. This begins to snowball and ultimately, the “mad crowd disease” spreads like wildfire. This is how a tulip could end up selling for such exorbitant prices. If the crowd decides to attribute a false value to something, the idea will begin to spread despite how ridiculous it may sound to an individual who is outside the crowd.

Korach had an agenda. He was jealous of Moshe and Aharon's positions. Until this point their leadership was undisputed and Korach wanted to change that fact. However, one man cannot influence an entire nation. Therefore, Korach used leitzanus (mockery) as a means to unite the B'nei Yisroel against Moshe and Aharon. He became the proverbial mockingbird poking fun at Moshe, and indeed succeeded in getting the entire B'nei Yisroel in on the fun. The arguments of Korach did not have to make sense, the only purpose of Korach's questions was to publicly humiliate Moshe and start his own “mad crowd disease” to spread throughout the B'nei Yisroel. The crowd psychology that Korach started began to spread fast until Hashem ultimately came to stop it.

Rashi9 tells us that Dasan and Aviram joined Korach because they were his neighbors. It should therefore not be surprising that they started playing the same game. Moshe, in trying to seek peace with Korach tried to explain his position, “Listen now, sons of Levi...You and your entire assembly who are joining together are against Hashem! And as for Aharon – what is he that you cause protest against him?”10 Moshe then tried to summon Dasan and Aviram to make peace, but he was met with completely irrelevant opposition. They responded, “...You did not bring us to a land flowing with milk and honey...even if you put out the eyes of those men we shall not go up!” Dasan and Aviram were not addressing Moshe's attempt to seek peace, they were not interested in doing anything but continue to fan the fire of leitzanus which Korach had started. When Moshe realized this, the passuk11 and Rashi12 describe that Moshe was extremely upset and distressed.13
Like their mentor, Korach, Dasan and Aviram did not address Moshe respectfully or with any form of logic. Instead, they used leitzanus to push Moshe aside in order to further their agenda.

The mishna14 tells us, “Any dispute that is for the sake of Heaven will in the end endure; but one that is not for the sake of Heaven will not endure.” The mishna continues and explains, “Which is a dispute that is for the sake of Heaven? This is the dispute between Hillel and Shammai.15 And which is a dispute that is not for the sake of Heaven? This is the dispute of Korach and all of his assembly.”

This mishna seems to be inconsistent. The first example of the mishna is that a dispute between Hillel and Shammai is one which is for the sake of Heaven. However, when discussing the argument of Korach, the mishna refers to it as the dispute of Korach and his assembly. Why does it not refer to it as the dispute between Korach and Moshe? Both parties of the argument should be mentioned as the mishna did when discussing Hillel and Shammai.

Perhaps with our explanation we could understand this mishna. Korach's scheme was not to argue with Moshe directly. He had no arguments. Even if he would have had some logical argument, he would have had to deal with the fact that Hashem was the One Who commanded Moshe who to choose for the various leading positions of Klal Yisroel. Rather, Korach's idea was to change the psyche of the B'nei Yisroel. It was a one-sided argument trying to use leitzanus to create an army of mad crowd disease who would fight the fight for him. This is the danger of the mockingbird, and the reason it is so necessary to dispose of it.

Even one who merely lives near one who is a rasha (wicked person) is negatively affected by his neighbor's attitude, actions, and behavior. However, it is not enough to not be a neighbor of such a person. Rather one must disassociate oneself from even identifying with such crowds who are not arguing to pursue the emes of Torah, but are instead trying to push their own agendas contrary to da'as Torah.

With this message in mind, may we merit to achieve the level of the first passuk in Tehillim, “Praiseworthy is the man who did not walk in the counsel of the wicked, and in the path of the sinful did not stand, and in the session of mockers did not sit.”
1Bamidbar 16:1
2Bamidbar Rabbah 18:1
3Bamidbar 15:38
4 A bluish dye made from a sea snail (chilazon)
5Excluding bathrooms
6Bamidbar 16:1
7Bamidbar 16:19
8Ibid.
9Bamidbar 16:1
10Bamidbar 16:11
11Bamidbar 16:15
12Ibid.
13See Amar N'kei on Rashi 16:15
14Avos 5:20
15Hillel and Shammai were a pair of early tannaim in the mishnaic era. Their arguments were not out of anger, jealousy, or haughtiness, but rather an argument over what the true halachos (laws) in Torah are based on their mesorahs (tradition) and understandings.

Photo Credit: http://thaumazein-albert.blogspot.com/2011/05/dutch-tulips.html

Friday, June 15, 2012

Parshas Shelach - Who Are You Going to Believe, Me or Your Own Eyes?


Thoughts on the parsha
Parshas Shelach


Who Are You Going to Believe, Me or Your Own Eyes?
By: Daniel Listhaus

...We were like grasshoppers in our eyes, and so we were in their eyes!”
-Shelach 13:33

This week's parsha opens with Hashem's response to the B'nei Yisroel's request to send spies to scout Eretz Yisroel. Hashem said to Moshe, “...send forth for yourself men...”1 As Rashi2 comments, Hashem was not pleased with the idea of sending the meraglim (spies). After all, He promised us that Eretz Yisroel was good. What more of a guarantee could we possibly ask for? What better evidence could we possibly discover? Yet, Hashem allowed us to send in spies despite our inexcusable uncertainty and persistence.
Rashi3 writes that just as the meraglim came back and spoke badly about Eretz Yisroel, that was really their intention from the beginning.

The problem with this Rashi is that earlier in the parsha, when listing the names of the meraglim, the passuk4 testifies that they were kulam anashim (all men). Rashi5 on this passuk (verse) explains that whenever the Torah uses the word “anashim” it is an expression of importance. It therefore seems that indeed the meraglim had only the best intentions when chosen to be the ones to scout Eretz Yisroel. How could we understand this contradiction between these two Rashis?

Furthermore, there is another fundamental question which must be asked on the whole story of the meraglim. The Medrash6 tells us that there is nothing loved before Hashem as much as one who is a sh'luach mitzva (someone sent to do a mitzva) and who puts in tremendous efforts to carry out the mitzvah. This is why sh'luchei mitzvos are exempt from doing other mitzvos7. As an example, the medrash provides the story of the spies sent by Yehoshua to scout out the city of Yericho, which we read in this week's Haftorah8. In contrast, the medrash mentions that the story of the meraglim sent by Moshe in our parsha reflects a polar opposite case to the Haftorah, and is far from showing an example of sh'luchei mitzvah.

The question is, what did the meraglim that Moshe sent do wrong? Moshe himself, upon commanding the spies to go to Eretz Yisroel, said, “Ascend here in the south and ascend the mountain. See the land – what is it? And the people who dwell in it – are they strong or weak? Few or numerous? And how is the land in which they dwell – is it good or is it bad? And how are the cities – are they open or fortified? And how is the land – is it fertile or is it lean?...”9 The meraglim were sent to offer their opinion regarding the land. After all, is it not a spy's job to determine the strengths and weaknesses of enemy countries10. Did theses meraglim not do exactly that? They found the strengths and weaknesses of Eretz Yisroel. Is it because of them that the negative aspects that they discovered happened to outweigh the good news and cause the B'nei Yisroel to shout out against Moshe? What more could be expected of them? They were sent to determine the enemy's strategic position and they did just that. Why is it their fault that the giants living in Eretz Yisroel had prospered tremendously? They were just telling the truth – stating the facts!

There is another difficulty in the actual speech that the meraglim gave when they came back. After giving the first part of their report, and then being interrupted by Calev, the meraglim described to the B'nei Yisroel that the land was populated with giants. They said, “We were like grasshoppers in our eyes, and so we were in their eyes”. What did they mean that they were like grasshoppers in their own eyes? Granted they were received with a strong reception when it came to delivering the news back to the B'nei Yisroel, but that is no reason for them to think they sprouted antennas! Surely they knew that they were human, so why did they say that they seemed as grasshoppers in their own eyes?

Furthermore, we must ponder the validity of the meraglim's statement. How did they know how the giants perceived them, that they had the confidence to declare, “...and so we were in their eyes.”?11

In order to better appreciate the story of the meraglim, let us think about the following. Imagine for a moment that you are walking down a street in Manhattan, when a Japanese tourist approaches you and, pointing at the Empire State Building, asks, “What is the name of that block?” You respond, “Well, this street we are on now is 34th Street, perpendicular to us is 5th Avenue, and parallel to us us 33rd Street.” Confused, he repeats, “Okay, but what is the name of that block with the big building in it?” Thinking this man is crazy, you say, “I do not know what you are getting at. Blocks do not have names, only streets have names. ”Annoyed, you then walk away.

Now imagine you take a trip to Japan. You are walking along some street one night and realize that you are totally lost. As you continue to walk around aimlessly, you come across a unique six-story glass crystal building. Wanting to be able to check it out in the morning, you find a Japanese man who understands English and you ask him, “Excuse me sir, what building is this?” He responds, “That is the famous Prada Aoyama building.” You then say, “I would like to come see it tomorrow, could you please tell me what street we are on?” “Street?”, He asks, clearly very confused, “Well, it is on block number 2”. Now it is your turn to be confused, “I do not care what block it is on. What street is this?” The Japanese gentleman just shrugs his shoulders and says, “Look fella, the address is 5-2-6. Meaning, it is in District 5, Block 2, and Building number 6 on the block. Streets do not have names, only blocks have names here.”

As humans, we often find ourselves in the position of the Japanese tourist in America, or the American visiting Japan. Every person has his own premises, opinions, and perceptions which one assumes to apply universally. We enter situations which should be viewed objectively, and instead apply our own previous notions, personal thoughts, and subjective opinions.

Perhaps this was the main issue with the cheit ha'meraglim (sin of the spies). Hashem had already promised the Jews that they would enter Eretz Yisroel and that it contained nothing but pure goodness. The meraglim, though, did not go forth with their mission with the perspective of being messengers from Hashem. Rather, they went looking through their own glasses, which was the foundation of their mistake. Hashem gave them a choice, “Are you going to spy out the land coming from the perspective that on your side there is Hashem, before whom everything else is puny like insects before Him? Or, will you be the insects – grasshoppers, standing on your own, without fully appreciating Hashem's power, perceiving every molehill as a mountain.

Unfortunately, the meraglim did in fact fail to have the full bitachon (faith) in Hashem, thereby utilizing the middah (character trait) of anavah (humility) incorrectly. Once they made the choice to view themselves as grasshoppers, they caused themselves to be viewed in the eyes of the giants as little insects as well. Perhaps this is an alternative way to understand the aforementioned passuk, “...We were like grasshoppers in our eyes, and therefore we were in their eyes as well”. In other words, it was only because the meraglim felt insecure, due to their lack of belief in Hashem, that the giants realized that they had nothing to fear about these “human-looking creatures”, for they were nothing but puny grasshoppers.

Had the meraglim trusted in Hashem completely, instead of their own eyes, they would have seen the truth about Eretz Yisroel. They would have come back alongside Yehoshua and Calev, confirming how prosperous and beautiful the land is. The giants and their fortified cities would have seemed like nothing more than midgets behind sticks.

With this in mind, we could now understand the contradiction between the two Rashis. On the one hand, there is no doubt that the meraglim chosen were the cream of the crop – the most chashuv (prestigious) members of B'nei Yisroel. However, because they set off with the the intention of applying their own preconceived notions and opinions, instead of going with the mind-set of Hashem being on their side, it was as if they originally went with the intention to speak badly about Eretz Yisroel. They went in specifically looking for the streets, when they should have been noticing the blocks.12

At the end of the parsha, we find the last paragraph of kriyas shema which deals with the mitzva of tzitzis. After the Torah's actual commandment for one to attach tzitzis to a four-cornered garment he is wearing, the Torah provides the reason for the mitzva - “It shall constitute tzitzis for you, and you shall see it and you shall remember all of the commandments of Hashem and perform them; and you shall not spy after your heart and after your eyes after which you stray.”13 We are supposed to look at our tzitzis and remember the mitzvos of Hashem14 and perform them in the correct way. What would be the incorrect way of doing the mitzvos? Rashi explains15,that the heart and eyes are the “spies” of the body. We must make sure to avoid looking at this world through our own glasses and instead utilize the instruction manual, the Torah, which Hashem provided us. Only if we accept da'as Torah and seek ratson Hashem will we achieve the level of the next verse in kriyas shema, “...so that you...be Holy to your G-D”16.
So, “Who are you going to believe?”, Hashem asks us every day, “Me or your own eyes?”




1Bamidbar 13:2
2Ibid.
3Bamidbar 13:26
4Bamidbar 13:3
5Ibid.
6Bamidbar Rabbah 16:1 and Tanchuma 6
7See Gemara (Mishna) Succah 25a
8Yehoshua 2:1-24
9Bamidbar 13:17-20
10This idea is also seen in Mikeitz 42:12 when Yosef, under disguise as an Egyptian, accused his brothers of being spies and trying to discover the weaknesses of Egypt, he attributed that as the reason why each of the tribes entered through a different gate.
11To answer this question, Rashi (Bamidbar 13:33) explains that the meraglim said that they overheard the giants saying, “There are ants in the vineyard which look like men”. Many mefarshim (commentaries) are bothered by this Rashi. How How did hearing the giants say that they looked like ants mean to the meraglim that they really meant that they were like grasshoppers. After all, this was the claim of the meraglim, that they were also grasshoppers in the eyes of the giants. There are a few approaches to answer this question on Rashi. (See Mizrachi., Kli Yakar, and Maharal [Gur Aryeh] on Bamidbar 13:33)
12See also Maharsha to Gemara Sotah 35a, Maharal Gur Aryeh Bamidbar 13:26, and Mizrachi there, who seem to resolve the contradiction in between the Rashis as follows. At the time that the meraglim were chosen, they were indeed great men. However, upon being sent to spy out the land by the people who were not willing to trust completely in Hashem, it had a negative affect on them and caused them to scout Eretz Yisroel without the proper bitachon in Hashem.
13Bamidbar 15:39
14See Rashi (Bamidbar 15:38) who explains that the word tzitzis = 600 in gematriya (numerical value) + five knots + eight strings = 613. Also, when we look at the t'cheiles (blue-dyed string on tzitzis), which is made from the chilazon (a type of sea-snail), our memory gets triggered to think about the blue ocean which reflects the Heavens and reminds us of Hashem and his mitzvos.
15Bamidbar 15:39
16Bamidbar 15:40

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Friday, June 8, 2012

Parshas Beha'aloscha - The Story of Miriam: The Foundation of Judaism

Thoughts on The Parsha
Parshas Beha'aloscha



The Story of Miriam: The Foundation of Judaism
By: Daniel Listhaus

וַתְּדַבֵּר מִרְיָם וְאַהֲרֹן בְּמשֶׁה עַל אֹדוֹת הָאִשָּׁה הַכֻּשִׁית אֲשֶׁר לָקָח כִּי אִשָּׁה כֻשִׁית לָקָח: וַיֹּאמְרוּ הֲרַק אַךְ בְּמשֶׁה דִּבֶּר ה' הֲלֹא גַּם בָּנוּ דִבֵּר וַיִּשְׁמַע ה': וְהָאִישׁ משֶׁה עָנָיו מְאֹד מִכֹּל הָאָדָם אֲשֶׁר עַל פְּנֵי הָאֲדָמָה

Miriam and Aharon spoke about Moshe regarding the Cushite woman he had married, for he had married a Cushite woman. They said, 'Was it only with Moshe that Hashem spoke? Did he not speak with us as well?' And Hashem heard. Now the man Moshe was exceedingly humble, more than any person on the face of the earth!”
-Beha'aloscha 12:1-3

This episode in our parsha is one which is well known and filled with many lessons to learn. However, a closer look at story which the Torah relates reveals many complexities and difficulties in what exactly happened at the time that Miriam and Aharon1 spoke lashon harah about their brother, Moshe rabbeinu.

The story begins with Miriam realizing that Moshe separated from his wife, Tziporah.2 Rashi3 comments that Miriam exclaimed, “Is it only with Moshe that Hashem speaks to? Hashem speaks with us and the other nevi'im (prophets) as well. Yet we did not part from the way of the world.” The Ohr HaChaim4 explains that Miriam had no intention whatsoever of speaking lashon harah about Moshe. Rather, Miriam was trying to offer constructive criticism to pressure Moshe into staying with his wife, Tziporah, which Miriam herself thought would be the correct thing to do. The passukim then interrupt the actual story line to tell us two facts. The first fact is that Hashem heard what Miriam had said. The second fact that the Torah reminds us of is that, “Moshe was exceedingly humble”.
Why is it necessary for the Torah to tell us that Hashem heard? It is obvious, Hashem hears everything!5 Imagine for a moment that for every time there is a conversation in the Torah, the Torah would tell us “And Hashem heard”. It would be completely unnecessary and redundant. So why is it that the Torah taps us on the shoulder here to notify us that Hashem heard what Miriam said?

A very similar question could be asked on the second unnecessary fact the Torah provides here. At this point in the chumash, we have been watching and following Moshe: The way he was as a lad in Mitzrayim, the story of the s'neh (burning bush), his many back-and-forths between Hashem and Pharoah, bringing the ten plagues upon Mitzrayim, leading the B'nei Yisroel out of Mitzrayim, receiving the Torah, and continuing to devote his life as the medium between Hashem and the B'nei Yisroel in the midbar (desert). Certainly we know enough about Moshe rabbeinu that he was indeed a magnificent person and was obviously exceedingly humble in order to be fit to receive the Torah. So why is it that the Torah is choosing here to remind us of yet another known fact – that Moshe was more humble than any person on the face of this earth?

The difficulties with this story do not stop here. The narrative continues with Hashem appearing suddenly to Moshe and his siblings and commanding them to go to the Ohel Moed (Tent of Meeting). At this point, the Torah6 relates that Hashem called Miriam and Aharon out and said the following, “Please hear my words. If there shall be prophets among you, in a vision shall I make Myself, Hashem, known to him. But not so is My servant Moshe; in My entire house he is trusted. Mouth to mouth do I speak to him, in a vision and not in riddles, and at the image of Hashem does he gaze. Why did you not fear to speak about My servant, about Moshe?” The Torah7 then describes that the wrath of Hashem flared up against Miriam and Aharon, and that when Hashem left, Miriam was left with tzara'as (leprosy).

Upon reading these passukim, the question which comes to mind is: what did Hashem tell Miriam now that she did not know before? Everyone knew that Moshe was on an incredible level and received the highest forms of nevuah (prophecy). So what chiddush (new piece of information) was Hashem teaching to Miriam that had she known she would not have said what she said? Rashi8 seems to understand that Hashem was telling Miriam and Aharon that He Himself told Moshe to separate from his wife. However, if that was the whole message that Hashem was trying to convey, why not be more specific in the Torah and say it explicitly instead of writing a whole list of descriptions as to how Moshe is greater than any navi (prophet) who ever lived and will ever live?

However, the story does not end here, nor do the difficulties. The passukim continue to relate that when Aharon saw that Miriam was stricken with tzara'as, the passukim describe that Aharon implored of Moshe, “I beg you, my lord, do not cast a sin upon us, for we have been foolish and we have sinned. Let her not be like a corpse....”9 Moshe, who understood that Miriam was only trying to look after him, immediately turned to Hashem and cried out, “Please, G-d, heal her now.”10

Despite Moshe's strong request, Hashem responded quite unexpectedly. Hashem said to Moshe, “And were her father to spit in her face, would she not be humiliated for seven days? Let her be quarantined outside the camp for seven days, and then she may be brought in.”11

There are two additional questions which come to mind when reading this part of the story dealing with the correspondence between Moshe and Hashem. The first question is as follows. Rashi12 points out that Moshe's tefillah for Miriam was very short. He offers two possible explanations for this. One, is that Moshe was afraid that if he were to daven a long time, people would blame him for prolonging the tzara'as of his sister, which they assumed would disappear as soon as Moshe was done davening. Therefore, Moshe said a short tefillah instead.

The second answer Rashi offers is that Moshe did not want to daven a long time because then perhaps people would comment and say, “For his sister, he prays at length, but for us he does not pray at length”.

These concerns which Rashi brings are difficult to understand. First-of-all, from the first answer in Rashi, it seems that everyone was expecting Miriam to get better immediately after Moshe would finish his davening. If this is something which was so obvious to the B'nei Yisroel to the extent that Moshe withheld himself from davening a longer tefillah, then why did it not happen? Miriam did not get healed as soon as Moshe was finished, rather Hashem said that she had to go outside the camp and remain alone with her tzara'as for seven days. Why did Miriam indeed not get completely better upon Moshe's completion of his tefillah?

The second explanation of Rashi is troubling as well. Did Moshe really have to be concerned that the B'nei Yisroel would point at him and accusingly declare, “For his sister, he prays at length, but for us he does not pray at length”? Moshe had an incredible amount of love for every single person, and this was something of which everyone was aware. Is it abnormal or striking that even someone who cares a great deal about everyone, would show a little more emotion when it is his own sibling on the line? Miriam was Moshe's older sister who sat and watched Moshe as a child to ensure nothing would happen to him.13 Would it really be a valid accusation to point Moshe out for davening longer for his sister than for others?

Additionally, what was the basis of Hashem's response? Granted Miriam spoke lashon harah, but what she said was only said with the best intentions to help Moshe. Furthermore, not only did Moshe forgive her completely, but he even implored that Hashem heal her. Why did Hashem respond, “No”? What was so bad about this seemingly minor sin which was only directed at Moshe for his benefit? Why did Hashem not only consider it unforgiven at that point, but take it personally – so to speak – by telling Moshe that his feelings were not the only factor but rather, as the passuk14 describes, Hashem was also angry at her and proverbially spit in her face?

In order to get a better understanding of this complex episode, we must explore on a deeper level who Moshe rabbeinu really was.

In the sixth Ani Ma'amin15, we declare: “I believe with complete faith that all the words of the prophets are true”. Then, in the seventh Ani Ma'amin, we affirm, “I believe with complete faith that the prophecy of Moshe rabbeinu, peace be upon him, is true, and that he is the father of the prophets – both those who proceeded him and those who came after him. Similarly, we find in the tefillah of Yigdal16, which is a summary of the Ani Ma'amin's, that there are two separate stanzas – one declaring the belief that Hashem granted the abundance of His prophecy upon people of His choosing and splendor; while another declares that there never was or will be a navi like Moshe rabbeinu.

The question which begs to be asked on the format of the Ani Ma'amin and Yigdal, is why are the nevuos of Moshe not simply included with the nevuos of all the other navi'im? Why are there two separate principles of faith – one testifying to the truth of all prophets and one specifically referring to the prophecies of Moshe? What exactly was so special about Moshe's nevuah that was more unique than anyone else's? Furthermore, even if we could pin-point the perquisites that Moshe's nevuah would come with, how could we understand the fact that there will never be anyone else like him?

The Rambam17 elaborates on the passukim in our parsha and writes that Moshe's nevuos (prophecies) were indeed quite different from any other navi's. Moshe rabbeinu received nevuos while he was awake and standing, whereas other navi'im would only receive nevuos while asleep. Moshe's nevuah was lucid and direct from Hashem, unlike others' who received their nevuos in riddles through malachim (angels). Moshe's nevuos were clear and conversational – like a friend speaking to a friend, this was not an experience any other navi could claim to have had. Additionally, Moshe's prophecies could come at any time either Hashem or Moshe wanted, other nevi'im, however, only received nevuos at specific times. Furthermore, Moshe remained on the same exact high spiritual level to receive a nevuah every second, whereas other nevi'im would have to “return to their tents” to take care of their needs.

Certainly Moshe's nevuos were of an entirely different caliber. Why was it only he, though, who was privy of achieving such a level, and what was the purpose of him having such special nevuos?

The first passuk of parshas Mattos18 says, “Moshe spoke to the heads of the tribes of the B'nei Yisroel, saying, “This is the matter that Hashem has commanded...”. Rashi19 on this passuk points out that only Moshe related prophecies using the word “zeh” (this). All other prophets, including Moshe, used the phrase, “So said Hashem”. However, Moshe is the only one who ever uses the expression, “This is the matter that Hashem has commanded.”

Based on this Rashi, the Maharal20 explains the fundamental difference between Moshe rabbeinu and all other nevi'im. He writes that there are two types of nevuos. One type of nevuah is a prophecy which relates the way that Hashem will bring his hashgacha and direction into the world. This is something which is constantly changing depending on the generation and the situation occurring in the world at any given point in time. There is no question that to reach such a level to receive this form of prophecy, requires the navi to be perfectly in control of himself and his middos (character traits).21 However, although this may be the highest form of nevuah which an individual is capable of reaching, it is not the highest form of nevuah in existence.

The second type of nevuah - the nevuah of Moshe rabbeinu - is very different. This form of nevuah is one which conveys prophecies of the Torah and mitzvos themselves. This form of prophecy is not time-sensitive or specific to any generation, rather it is the timeless, unchanging facts of the Torah which Hashem wills to be tamid – constant and consistent. The Torah is the blueprint of the world demonstrating and guiding us how to live. As the Maharal writes, it is the metzias k'lali beolam and provides order and direction in the facts of the world.

Using this concept, the Maharal explains that when Moshe prophecised about what would be included in the Torah and mitzvos, Moshe did so with the word “zeh” (“This...”). During times when Moshe prophecised about the will and hashgacha of Hashem during specific times, he used the word “koh” (“So...”).

The content of Moshe's prophecies were different from anything else any navi ever related. Moshe was the leader of B'nei Yisroel who taught us what is included in the Torah and the mitzvos of Hashem. The unquestionable authority we attribute to Moshe does not solely come from his greatness alone, but rather what we experienced at Har Sinai. When Moshe went up to receive the Torah from Har Sinai, Hashem told Moshe, “Behold! I come to you in the thick of the cloud, so that the people will hear as I speak to you, and they will believe in you, also forever.”22
The entire B'nei Yisroel heard Hashem communicating to Moshe the Aseres Hadibros (Ten Commandments). This, along with the concreteness of the fact said at that time that there will never be another Torah and that any navi who says anything against the Torah is a navi sheker (false prophet), is the foundation of our religion. We all witnessed Hashem telling us through Moshe the fact that the Torah is the only emes.

Moshe's role and responsibility in B'nei Yisroel went beyond just being a leader; it tasked him with being in direct communication with Hashem Himself in order to deliver the Toras emes. This is why Moshe's bar was higher than any other navi who ever lived or will ever live – because the Torah is unchanging, and that was the content of Moshe's nevuos. Moshe therefore had to receive his nevuos with aspaklariya ha'meirah (a clear lens – as if seeing them through a glass), whereas other navi'im received their nevuos with an aspaklariya sh'eino meirah (an unclear lens – seeing unclear images and riddles).23 Certainly this privileged level of closeness with Hashem demanded of Moshe to indeed be anav m'kol adom – exceedingly humble, more than anyone who has ever lived.

Perhaps with this Maharal, we could better understand the episode which takes place at the end of our parsha. As good-meaning as Miriam was in saying what she said to Aharon about Moshe, it was also, albeit unknowingly and accidentally, a loophole for disaster. Questioning an action of Moshe, who was on constant call to be ready to communicate with Hashem, was in essence questioning Hashem Himself and the foundation of the Torah. This is perhaps why at the time Miriam spoke the light lashon harah, the Torah tells us that Hashem heard, and why even when Moshe forgave her completely and even davened for her immediate recovery, Hashem argued that He has spat in the face of Miriam and therefore she must be sent outside the camp for seven days.

This is exactly what Hashem was reminding Aharon and Miriam as a lesson to all of B'nei Yisroel. Moshe's role of leader during this vital time in history of compiling the Torah is one which is being directed by Hashem. Every action and decision Moshe made had to be checked and discussed with Hashem in order for Moshe to understand the complete emes of Torah with absolute clarity. This is something which Moshe himself understood, which perhaps is the reason he did not daven long for Miriam. As the leader of B'nei Yisroel during the time of traveling through the midbar (desert), he was indeed in no position to play favorites – even for his own family. His job was to be the accepted medium, declared by Hashem – which everyone heard – between the B'nei Yirsoel and Hashem. Therefor, even his own sister was just as close to him as any member of B'nei Yisroel. This was a perspective and fact which Moshe could not compromise.

The story of Miriam is one which seems embarrassing for her to focus so much on, yet it is so important in the Torah and is even one of the essential six remembrances the Torah commands us to remember daily, “Remember that which Hashem your G-d did to Miriam on the way when you were leaving from Egypt”.24

The foundation of Judaism is the emes of the unchanging Torah. The fact that we heard Hashem say to Moshe at Har Sinai Anochi Hashem Elokecha...25, built into the Torah itself a system which tells us that anyone who says anything contrary to the Torah or the nevuos of Moshe must be a navi sheker. All other nevi'im have the ability to relate to us the way Hashem will interact with the world at a given point in time, but no one has the stamp of approval from Hashem and the entire B'nei Yisroel - who witnessed Hashem Himself communicating with Moshe – as Moshe rabbeinu.

With this in mind, let us feel a gratitude towards Hashem Who not only created us as humans with tremendous potential, but Who also gave us the privilege of being descendents of the prestigious family of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, who received the Toras emes from Hashem at Har Sinai through Moshe.
1See Ibn Ezra (12:1) who says that although Aharon did not say anything himself, he was either quiet or actively agreed and was therefore punished as well.
2See Rashi Bamidbar 12:1
3Bamidbar 12:1
4Ibid.
5We state in the tenth Ani Ma'amin – The Thirteen Principles of Faith based on the Rambam (see Rambam Peirush Hamishnayos Perek Yud in Sanhedrin – “I believe with complete faith that the Creator, blessed be His name, knows all the deeds of human beings and all their thoughts as it says, 'He Who fashions together their hearts, and who comprehends all their deeds.'” (Tehillim 35:15) – Hashem knows our thoughts and comprehends the reasons for our actions. Surely He hears what we say.
6Bamidbar 12:5-8
7Bamidbar 12:9-10
8Bamidbar 12:8
9Bamidbar 12:11-12
10Bamidbar 12:13
11Bamidbar 12:14
12Bamidbar 12:13
13See Shemos 2:4
14See Bamidbar 12:14
15The Thirteen Principles of Faith based on the Rambam. This could be found in most siddurim after shacharis.
16Could be found in the siddur at the beginning of shacharis.
17Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah Perek Zayin
18Bamidbar 30:2
19Ibid.
20In his peirush Gur Aryeh on this passuk.
21See Rambam Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah Perek Zayin
22Shemos 19:9
23See Gemara Yevamos 49b
24Devarim 24:9

25Shemos 20:2

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