Nadav and Avihu

A year ago I gathered together many of the thoughts I had developed over the years regarding the sin of Moshe Rabbenu. I am a firm believer that the tale we are given in the Torah is the furthest thing from black and white, there is everything but clarity, and it requires much discussion to get to the full conclusion of "what went wrong" in Moshe's story. If indeed something went wrong. Because one argument that is quite supported in the evidence is that Moshe was never meant to make it to the Land --- I've addressed this before. Here is the summary link of that discussion.

In preparing for one of my talks on Shavuos, it became clear that another theme I've spent much time thinking about is the deaths of Nadav and Avihu. Even more than in this blog, I've also presented shiurim and sermons on them - perhaps I'll share some of that information another time. (When I do, I'll update here)

What will follow now are the links to each article in which Nadav and Avihu's deaths are noted, and the take-home argument attached to each dvar Torah.

In the Moshe's Sin summary (also linked above) - the comparison is made between Moshe's and Aharon's punishments, which are attached to the story of Mei Merivah (Bamidbar 20), but upon closer examination does not fit the crime. Abravanel raises the possibility that for both Moshe and Aharon as well as Nadav and Avihu, the Torah uses their seeming punishment as a cover for a much greater "crime" which was actually punishable by death. (This last concept is hinted to here as well.) How Nadav and Avihu died and Aharon's other sons were spared is addressed here. 

Some of the classic and unclassic explanations for the WHY Question. Why did they die? What did they do? Some of this follows a similar line of thinking as Abravanel noted above - that the story in Shmini is a cover for the real "crime."

In this discussion on Parshas Emor about whether the rules of which kohanim can and cannot serve in the Mishkan are discriminatory, Nadav and Avihu are mentioned in passing as an extreme example of what could happen to those who make a mistake in the Mishkan service, and how the Torah's excluding the disabled or physically challenged is more for their protection than anything else.

In this exploration of the use of fire and wood for fuel, the question is raised if Nadav and Avihu brought their own demise more because of the misuse of ktoret (which can be fatal), or the misuse of fire. Their own discernment of the law, without asking Moshe, is often identified as one of the suggested "reasons" for why they died. This also addresses why the ktoret may not have been as bad as the fire component of their deed.

In this sermon, written as a response to a number of tragedies, the idea is raised that death might not always be a "punishment." (this second link is a different article inspired by the sermon) Nadav and Avihu's death is depicted in a very positive light - as they were getting as close to God as possible. At the same time, we need to take a step back and recognize that despite all the "positives" as depicted, a loss is a loss and is a tragedy for all. (The tragic element is touched upon in here, quite briefly) The enormity of the loss is also mentioned here.

How Aharon and Elisheva dealt with their loss, and how they became an inspiration to others after burying their sons, is addressed in this analysis.

There is a line of thinking amongst the authorities that the deaths of the righteous bring about atonement for the people. Of course, there is also a view that they were so pure, the holiness they sought could not coexist with living a physical existence. A suggestion is made in passing - based on an interpretation of the number of spigots in the kiyor - that Nadav and Avihu were never expected to live in the service of the Mishkan

One bizarre suggestion about Nadav and Avihu is that they died because they did not have children, While the idea is so beyond any concept we might be willing to accept, it helped me come up with a new interpretation for understanding the story of Tzlafchad and what his daughters meant when they said "he died in his sins and he did not have sons. "

Here is a shiur on Parshat Acharei Mot (audio) in which the Or HaChaim outlines what I call the mixed cocktail that made it that Nadav and Avihu a. died, b. at that moment, c. at that place
https://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/923742/

Some of the classic interpretations (without attaching names to commentators) include a number of which appear in the Midrash, make the following arguments as to what actually caused their deaths.

• They were מורה הלכה בפני רבן, 
• They were jealous of  kavod given to Moshe and Aharon, 
• They acted on their own without  consulting with anyone, 
• They drank wine before they did their avodah, 
• They weren’t wearing the proper bigdei kehunah, 
• They didn’t perform רחיצת ידים ורגלים, 
• They didn’t have children, 
• They were not married (may have even tried to woo Agunos), 
• They were supposed to bring their ketores on the inside mizbeach and they brought it on firepans instead, 
• Their deaths were punishment to their father for his role in Chet HaEgel, 
• They may have been acting as non-kohanim, as private citizens, using their kohen-status for access, but not because this was considered a proper avodah, 
• They didn't trust in the possibility of a heavenly fire, as did their father before them

Be Optimistic as We Learn From History

Parshat Bamidbar

by Rabbi Avi Billet

As we begin the 4th book of the Torah, we embark on a journey, along with the Israelites who would now be leaving Sinai after having been there for 11 months.

Not only does the focus of the Torah’s narrative switch – from being primarily law and instruction oriented in Vayikra to advancing the narrative – but the style of the Torah shifts in the opening chapters of Bamidbar. There is an air of excitement, of anticipation, of something wonderful emerging on the horizon.

And why shouldn’t there be such an attitude? For the nation of Israel, things have never been better!

They’ve experienced the Exodus. Their most frightening enemies – Egypt and Amalek – are behind them. They’ve witnessed Revelation and received the Torah. They’ve made the worst mistake possible, and they’ve survived, thrived, and moved on. They’ve seen their leader, Moshe, emerge as not only a miracle worker, but as a compassionate powerhouse of strength, ready to lose everything for the sake of his people. They’ve built a Mishkan, they’ve learned how it functions. They’ve seen Aharon emerge as a competent Kohen Gadol (High Priest), one they’ve known as a great social worker, who has not only embraced his role with humility and pride, but who has taught them a valuable lesson about how to face suffering and how to sacrifice for the benefit of the greater good. The deaths of Nadav and Avihu (also recorded in our parsha 3:4) were a national tragedy, from which the nation was still reeling, and yet through Aharon’s leadership, they saw they could move on.

And now, as they gather themselves for a census, they see what their strength in numbers is, and how confident they should feel when they’ll soon be facing the enemies without – those whose presence in the Land has been an overstayed welcome for far too long, who will choose to fight rather than submit to God’s will that the children of Abraham reclaim their ancestral, God-given Land.

With all this hope and optimism, how long does it take before things turn and take the direction we all know is coming?

All that has been reviewed above includes high points and low points, optimism and devastation, hope and despair.

While we can’t rewrite history (some choose to, but it’s never a good practice), we can learn from history. And if this parsha is to serve as any kind of teaching tool – with its census, its military preparations and travel arrangements, and the defined roles of the Levites being put in order – then it becomes our challenge to take the lessons to be learned from the experiences of our nation, and in particular to learn from mistakes.

We live in a post Holocaust world, in a State-of-Israel and United-Jerusalem world. While our worst enemies (Romans, Crusaders, Cossacks, Nazis, etc.) are behind us, we still have enemies hell-bent on our annihilation. And yet we also have an army, like the imposing army in the wilderness, who will do everything in its power (with God’s help!) to protect our brothers and sisters in Israel and around the world.

 We have Torah, more widespread, more readily accessible, more available to people than ever before. We don’t experience Revelation, but we do have the responsibility to view the Torah anew every day. And, thank God, between the many translated works that have been published, and the mountains of Torah lectures and information available on the Internet, anyone who can navigate through it all can become a tremendous repository of knowledge and information, and can work to enhance personal wisdom, understanding, discernment, and spiritual desires.

We have Torah leaders who are heroes in their commitment to teaching and sharing, who take stands for what they believe in, and who serve as inspirations to hundreds and thousands of our people in their holy work of being “marbitzei Torah” – those who spread the study of Torah to the four corners of the globe.

We build shuls and schools – all imperfect, but all aiming to provide a space where people can grow, learn, be inspired. It is never meant to be a one-way street. If the school or shul gives and the audience doesn’t receive, and certainly if the audience doesn’t contribute their own input, growth-oriented as well as financial, these institutions will never be as successful as they can be.

How do we respond to tragedy? Or to horrible mistakes? Do we throw others under the bus, pointing fingers and spreading blame? Or do we try to gather pieces and see where we can go from here? Do we ask ourselves how we turn failure into opportunity? Do we do that reckoning?

Perhaps most importantly, do we see and understand the strength that even our small numbers has? Do we believe with a full heart that God is on our side, and that our mission is just, right, and true? Do we articulate our trust that the Almighty is watching and just waiting for the right moment to bring about our Redemption? Do we view Him as the Compassionate Father in Heaven Who knows what is best for us?

If we can jump on the optimistic bandwagon and take the steps necessary to build on past successes and emerge stronger for disappointments, we will have made the best of the opportunities life sends our way.

If we miss it, well, then, we will have missed it. And wouldn’t that be a shame?

Utilizing God's Gifts of Goodness for the Betterment of Our Lives

Parshat Behar BECHUKOTAI

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In the Torah, there are a number of times when God uses the word “V’natati” (and I will place or give) to indicate what He will give to the Bnei Yisrael. Sometimes it is good, and in the cases in our parsha that are in the Tochacha, they are not good. In the book of Bereishit, the ultimate gift God promises to Avraham and descendants is “the land.” This promise is made several times.

In Egypt – God says I will place the “Chen” (charm) of the Israelites in the eyes of Egypt, so they’ll pay you parting gifts. Perhaps a contemporary equivalent is that your non-Jewish neighbors will see the good you bring to the world, and will honor your contributions to the world. The flipside to this would be if they only see red through the hatred they have in their hearts when they perceive you.

The 2nd paragraph of Shema which includes two promises of gifts: for rain and produce, and grass for your animals.

In Bechukotai the promised gifts – of Goodness – include peace, having God’s Mishkan, His personal resting place, in our midst, and having God Himself walk among us.

The curses, which come from bad behavior, disregarding the Torah, not caring about God, desecrating God’s name, will lead to these “gifts” – of punishment, that is “I will turn my attention” (never a good sign) as God’s attention will lead to your enemies defeating you, your heavens will be like iron and your land like brass; your corpses will rot on the remains of your idols. Your cities will be ruins and your sanctuaries will be desolate...

Rather than going through positive requirements of the parsha, and negative consequences, let us look at a couple of passages from the Talmud which discuss methods of goodness that we can emulate that are meant to bring good fortune.

The Talmud (Shabbos 119a) tells us how great rabbis would prepare for Shabbos, including a story of Yosef Mokir Shabei – Yosef who honors Shabbos, and how he became wealthy. A wealthy non-Jew in his neighborhood was informed through astrology that he would lose his fortune to this Yosef. The man sold everything he had and purchased an expensive pearl which he carried with him always, so he could protect his wealth. One day when he was passing a river, the pearl dropped from his possession and ended in the water, where it was swallowed by a fish that was subsequently caught late on a Friday. Perplexed at how they’d sell it so close to Shabbos, everyone told the fishermen to sell it to this Yosef, who would certainly buy it in honor of Shabbos. Which he did…

The Talmud continues with examples of how the people in Israel became wealthy – through giving tithes. And in Babylonia, wealth came to those who honored the Torah. Elsewhere, people became wealthy through honoring the Sabbath. Lesson number one: Give to the poor, honor the Torah, and honor Shabbos and merit to be wealthy. Remember that wealth is not always measured in monetary terms. In last week’s chapter of Avot, we learned Ben Zoma’s teaching that wealth equals being happy with one’s portion.

The second tale (Taanit 20b) is of Rav Adda bar Ahavah and the great merits that came to him on account of his deeds, which include: he never showed anger in his house, he never walked in front of someone greater than him, he never thought about Torah in places which are inappropriate, he didn’t walk a distance of four amos without studying Torah or without wearing his tefillin, he never slept in the beis medrash, he never had any delight when his fellow man stumbled – which even means if someone had to sell something to him at a loss, he didn’t even rejoice over his own gain. He never called his friend by a nickname.

There are many other examples of wonderful qualities and character traits which are clearly smiled upon in the Talmud. Many of them reflect on seeing the humanity in others, and doing our best to make others comfortable, to preserve their dignity, to protect them and their feelings, all while honoring God at all times.

Our task is to bring the focus to where we can be improving our relationships with people and with God And to bring the focus to how we can raise up the honor of our friend – as the Mishneh in Avos says – “Let the honor of your friend be beloved unto you as your own honor,” and how we can thereby create a better world beginning with our own conduct, positively influencing others, and having those good behaviors serve as a model for ourselves, our families, and our communities.

Priestly Discrimination? Emotionally, maybe; Intellectually, absolutely NOT

Parshat Emor 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

One of the questions which gets much emphasis nowadays is whether the Torah discriminates against kohanim who have some kind of deformity, blemish, or disability? This is the advantage of looking at the Torah through the lens of 21st century morals. Anything in the Torah that doesn’t strike us as being up with the times is fair game for attack.

Honestly, this is a game a lot of people play today, using emotional (and almost never intellectual) arguments to explain why certain laws and policies are discriminatory. Let us be clear – there is never a good counter argument against an emotional argument. However, when emotions are removed from an argument, and facts, figures, and information can be debated, then we can have a fair winner, and a decision/policy/law that can be agreed upon by consensus.

So if we are looking at the Torah purely from an emotional vantage point, the answer would likely be “Yes. The Torah is discriminating.”

But to accept the premise of this argument, we need to understand the difference between discrimination and protection.

While I am certainly able to try out to be in the NFL, the fact that my age, inadequate frame, disproportionate body fat, and lack of muscle tone would prevent anyone from offering me a contract is not only not discrimination, it is for my protection – both physical and emotional. I would probably get horribly injured and suffer a concussion or worse in the first play. And I would be mortifyingly embarrassed at my lack of skill in comparison to all other players.

Do I cry and scream “Discrimination in the NFL?” Or do I say, “I’m better suited for a different line of work.” (Hint: B)

There is a physical prowess needed for Kohen work. And there is also a need for a certain kind of perfection in service, the lack of which could be deadly. Think of Nadav and Avihu. Would it be proper to put people who, through no fault of their own (God made them this way) are incapable of serving properly, into positions where they have to perform at a certain level, and if not they fail not only the people they represent, but themselves as well, and possibly die?

That is not discrimination. That is protection. [The non-kohanim among us would not be permitted to serve under any circumstances. Is this also discrimination? On an emotional level, perhaps. But not on an intellectual level – see the story of Hillel who accepted the convert who was converting on condition that he can be the High Priest – who soon learned and was OK with the idea that he could never be the High Priest (Talmud B – Shabbat 31a).]

Additionally, these kohanim are not denied any of the benefits of the priesthood. They can eat all the special foods kohanim eat, they can receive all the special gifts the kohanim are gifted, and the rules of purity/impurity still apply to them. They can be given the Kohen Aliyah, they can bless the people, and they can serve for the Pidyon HaBen ritual. What is denied to them is the permission to serve in the ritual service of the Temple.

According to Or HaChaim, when Moshe told God at the burning bush to send someone else (Shmot 4:13), he was saying, “In the hands of someone who is worthy to carry out Your mission, not in a weak person such as myself, who has a permanent mum (blemish), and this is a demonstration of my being unfit for such a lofty mission.” It takes a sense of self and awareness of how others perceive, right or wrong, to be able to take a step back and say, “This is not the job for me.” Obviously God wanted Moshe for many other reasons! God also declared the rules of which Kohanim are to serve in this capacity. Would anyone say God discriminates against His children? We may have many questions as to why not every person is “perfect” and “normal” or at the very least “without ailments, blemishes, or disabilities,” but the believing person does not say God is discriminating as much as we will not try to give answers, but will do our best with the situation God has handed us.

In his commentary on both Vayikra 1:3 and 21:17 (look them both up!), Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch elaborates in great detail how the Kohen who would serve in the Temple needed to be of the same caliber as the animals which were to be brought as offerings – without blemish. (See Malachi 1:8 who decries bringing animals that have blemishes) The prophet Hoshea rebuked the priests in the Northern Kingdom of Israel who used their sanctuaries as a haven for the blind, lame and sick to seek consolation for their suffering.

In contrast, God’s altar demands the whole person – thus the offerings are to be without blemish. And such, the kohanim who represent the people are to be without blemish. The wholeness of the animal is representative of our giving our whole selves to God, as we declare in the second verse of the Shema (Devarim 6:5).

Looking at these kinds of depictions in the Torah, we must come at an understanding from an intellectual vantage point. If we are governed by our emotions alone, there is never a conversation to be had. But through a thought process that considers how we can best understand, as well as a macro view of the cost-benefit analysis of where service in the Mishkan or Temple is meant to lead us, we get a better understanding of what God is trying to create for us.

Should we treat people who are afflicted with disabilities or “differences” with respect? Of course! We should never diminish the humanity of anyone, as all people are created in God’s image. The question only becomes what is the right role for everyone in society. And in the case of the Temple, the Torah is clear on who can serve, while never denying the rights and benefits of priesthood from those who are declared unable to serve.

Forefather Merit and Being Non-judgmental

Parshat Acharei Mot-Kedoshim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In describing the Yom Kippur service, the Torah tells us that “With this shall Aharon enter the Holy, with a bull that is ‘ben bakar’ as a sin offering, and a ram as a burnt offering.” (16:3)

Elsewhere the term ben bakar (lit ‘child of cattle’) is used to distinguish the age of an animal. For example an “eigel” (calf) is less than a year old, while an “eigel ben bakar” is a little older.

When the term “par “ (bull) is utilized, however, the term ‘ben bakar’ would seem superfluous in the sense of defining age, simply because a bull is by definition an adult animal.

But the greater question is what is this verse telling us as far as what Aharon brings with him into the Holy? Many commentaries jump on the opening word of the verse, “b’zot” (with this), noting that the Hebrew word has a gematria (numerical value) of 410 which is how long the first Temple stood. Aharon carries with him the merit of the first Temple.

Ramban quotes a Midrash that Aharon brings with him the merit of “Zot,” a word used to describe many other mitzvoth and qualities, all based on the utilization of the word “zot” throughout the Bible. The merits he carries with “zot” include: the Torah (Devarim 4:44), the Covenant of Circumcision (Bereshit 17:10), Shabbos (Isaiah 56:2), Jerusalem (Exekiel 5:5), the tribes (Bereshit 49:28), Judah ((Devarim 33:7), the Congregation of Israel (Song of Songs 7:8), Terumah (donations) (Shmot 25:3), Tithes (Malachi 3:10), and the merit of the offerings in general.

So why the bull and the ram? After all, we learned in Parshat Shmini that Aharon brought a calf as a sin-offering at the time of the dedication of the Mishkan, and many connect his calf offering there as meaning to bring atonement for his involvement in making the Golden Calf.

Considering, as Kli Yakar notes, that Aharon’s involvement in the Golden Calf episode was mild – he helped fashion the calf, but never worshiped it, danced before it, or honored it any way – one would think that his calf sin-offering at that time would suffice! And yet, some want to make the connection that the bull is the father of the calf, and Aharon must atone on Yom Kippur for the sin yet again, utilizing the father.

Alshikh has a different view, owing to the reality of the experience of the Kohen Gadol, and the burden he truly carries on his shoulders on Yom Kippur. He is representing everyone and therefore needs all the help he can get.

When we think about the time period of the High Holidays, one of the main themes of Remembrance is our asking God to remember the merit of the forefathers.

So Alshikh recalls how when Avraham hosted the 3 malachim (angels/messengers of God), he fed them ‘ben bakar.’ And when Yitzchak was bound on the altar at the top of Mt. Moriah, a ram was ultimately offered in his place.  (Kli Yakar actually recalls all this and also notes that Yaakov brought two goats to his mother to prepare for Yitzchak to eat before receiving the 'stolen' blessings)

We often tend to whitewash our own deeds and see ourselves in the right. Most of us would probably justify everything we do that is questionable, where our judgment may not have been top-notch, when our choice in retrospect or in hindsight was not the best. If we could only look back at the things we did with unbiased eyes, we would see a very different picture than the one we paint with our personal rose-colored glasses.

As such, we need the merit of the forefathers, because we know who they were and we know how God perceived and continues to perceive them. Reminding Him of them in our own words and deeds, is only to our benefit.

Which leads me to a very simple observation. We are never judgmental of ourselves. We don’t even need the merit of the forefathers to excuse our bad behaviors. So why are we so judgmental of others? Why do we have such trouble giving people a second chance, perhaps through the merit of our shared forefathers?