Time, and a Plan, Make All the Difference

Parshat Chukat

by Rabbi Avi Billet

It’s incredible what time can do to a person’s maturation process, in how a person deals with adversity. O – and how having a strategy can also help a person cope with the curveballs of life.

Of course, not having a strategy is what separates the proverbial “men from the boys” in seeing how people deal with life-challenges “in the moment," when a plan can’t be put into effect because no plan exists.

In Bamidbar 20, we see a situation that we’ve seen before: the people complain because they have no water to drink. In the past, we’ve seen Moshe’s response to this kind of complaining has spanned from crying out to God (Shmot 15:25) to getting into a fight with the people (Shmot 17:2) to thinking he was going to be killed (Shmot 17:4). And after the infamous rock incident in this chapter (20), we’ll see Moshe ignore the people completely in 21:5-6 when they complain about lack of water again.

So what is the strategy that is so helpful to Moshe in Bamidbar 20? The strategy is what we saw in two places in last week’s Torah portion. The first was in 17:3-5 when Elazar was instructed to hammer out the copper fire pans and attach them to the altar “as a sign and remembrance” to people who are not Kohanim not to encroach into places they do not belong. The second was Aharon’s blossomed staff that was "to be placed near the Ark to serve as a testimony to those who rebel." (17:25-26)

We do not see challenges to Aharon’s role in the Torah, nor do we see challenges to Moshe’s role, on par with Korach’s rebellion. But we do see similar affronts to Moshe’s leadership when there is no water. And here, unlike at the last episode in Shmot 17, we watch as the water dispute does not lead to a fight between Moshe and the people.

Instead of taking the complaint personally, as he did in the past, Moshe knows all he needs to do is produce Aharon’s blossomed staff, the symbol that is meant to put down insurrection and stop rebellion, and the people will remember what happened with Korach, and they will back down.

And that’s exactly what happened. God tells Moshe to take out the staff, which turns out to be the one that was “before God as God had commanded him” (20:9)

And the strategy would have worked, had Moshe not felt the need to say what he said in 20:10. Because all that was needed was the sign/symbol and the people would have looked, seen the staff, and remembered to back down. This should have been the result of Moshe's having grown on the job, having had the experience of time lead him in the direction of non-confrontation, as well as God's plan to rule the day.

So what went wrong here?

Moshe followed God’s instruction, but he let his emotions get the better of him. Even the best-laid strategies can’t cover for every contingency plan.

One major difference here is that while the people fought with Moshe in Shmot, it is clear here that they are fighting with God (20:13) (this may help us understand why the complaint in Chapter 21 goes in the direction it goes, with the snakes unleashing God’s wrath against complainers).

There is no question that had Moshe followed the plan of bringing the staff out and showing it, waiting for the people to process what they were to glean from seeing it, this story would have panned out differently. But when Moshe chastised the people as well, with all the implications his words included, his fate was somehow sealed.

We need to have plans for the challenges life will present, hopefully with the ability to anticipate the twists of any circumstance. People who have aging parents, or parents with declining health need to have a plan. While it is not easy to decide where a person wants to be buried, making such decisions (and paying for them in advance) eases a tremendous burden off of loved ones. What happens in the case of an unanticipated accident – where do the children go? How are they to be raised? Who will take responsibility?

Can each spouse manage alone – because inevitably one person will be widowed? Is there a plan for how to cope, how to deal with the loneliness? Will children be involved in keeping the widowed parent occupied and looked after when that time comes?

Part of the problem Moshe and Aharon faced in this story is that they seemed unprepared for the death of their sister. Remember that she died immediately before this story, and Alshikh notes the devastation they were dealing with at the time that the people came to complain about lack of water. 

Even the most exceptional human beings have weak spots. Moshe’s planning did not anticipate his weak points – the loneliness that came from the loss of his sister, the inability to let God’s strategy of showing the staff work itself out, and the inability to restrain himself from giving a rebuke at the same time as he was giving water to the people.

May our lot be to create strategies for challenging times and to implement them in the most effective ways.

When Death Brings Atonement

Parshat Chukat 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

"…They came to the Tzin Desert, and the people stopped in Kadesh. It was there that Miriam died and she was buried there." (20:1)

Menachem Recanati asks, "This is all the Torah has to say about Miriam here, though her death was comparable to Moshe's (Baba Batra 17a), and Aharon's, and even Avraham's, on account of all them utilizing the word "Sham" ("there"), which even appears twice here?"

The Talmud (Moed Katan 28a) tells us Miriam's death is juxtaposed to the Parah Adumah (Red Heifer) of Chapter 19 because just as the Parah Adumah brought atonement, so does the death of the righteous bring atonement.

Toldot Yitzchak notes the problem with this passage; since the Parah Adumah is not classified as a Korban (sacrifice) it does not bring atonement! It brings about taharah (purity)!

This may explain why Rashi here misquotes the Talmud, saying "Just as Korbanot bring atonement, so does the death of the righteous." [Tosafot claim the atonement brought by Parah Adumah is for the Sin of the Golden Calf. See also Rashi19:22]

Other commentaries address the "death of righteous bringing atonement" idea. Torah Temimah focuses not on the death, but on observed mourning and honor given to the deceased, which translates to Honor of God, suggesting this is what brings atonement.

The Toldot Yitzchak surmises that "the Rabbis' intent was that the atonement was not available for a person who does not feel a real spiritual void, a loss for all of Israel, when the righteous die. Such a loss should humble a person, and make a person feel like the dust of the earth, an idea connected to the Parah Adumah which is burned to dust."

The deaths of Nadav and Avihu are mentioned in Yom Kippur's Torah reading to help us think, on the Day of Atonement, of what can be achieved for the people through the death of the righteous (see possibility #1 here) . [On what to say after such tragedies, see here]

Ricanati says after the Baal Peor incident in Bamidbar 25, Moshe was instructed to gather the leaders of the people in order to get God's wrath to subside from Israel (25:4) because through the leaders either judging the people or themselves dying, God's attribute of Judgment is appeased. (See Medrash Shir HaShirim 1:6) This helps explain why the wrongs perpetrated against the Givonim were only righted through the deaths of seven descendants of Shaul (see Shmuel II:21)

Recanati furthers this idea in his commentary on Eglah Arufah – the unsolved murder (Devarim 21) – quoting Bereishit Raba 44:5. When God told Avraham "I will [make a] shield [of] you" He was saying, "I will make righteous people descend from you, the kind who protect others from Judgment through their deaths." [i.e. Nadav and Avihu (Vayikra 10:3) and what Talmud Shabbat 55a learns from Yechezkel 9:6]

There is a more blatant connection between Miriam's death and Eglah Arufah. The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 29b) learns from a "gezeirah shavah" (a parallel word in two Torah cases) on the word "Sham" ("there") that just as one is forbidden from deriving benefit from the slaughtered cow (eglah arufah), it is forbidden to derive benefit from a corpse (such as Miriam was).

Baal Haturim connects Parah Adumah, Miriam's death and Eglah Arufah through equating the numerical values of "Issur B'hanaah" (prohibition of benefit) (340), the word "Sham" (340), "Mechaper" (brings atonement) (340), and "Parah Adumah" (341: gematria has a +/-1 factor).

Further, the Kli Yakar (19:2) connects the young cow (Eglah) slaughtered to achieve atonement and the Eigel (Golden Calf) in their giving or needing to achieve atonement for murder – shortly before the Golden Calf was formed, Chur was murdered.

With Miriam's death, the people missed an opportunity to achieve the atonement they so needed. This lost chance was the cause (if not the blessing!) that absolved Moshe and Aharon once and for all from leading the people from whom they had grown apart.

The Alshich describes Moshe's and Aharon's intent to deal with burying their sister. When they saw a large crowd coming, Aharon praised the people for wanting to do kindness, but Moshe questioned their intent as they weren't following the proper social order. And when they heard Moshe describing their visit negatively, they fought with him.

Rabbi Yosef Karo explained their confronting Moshe, "See! Miriam died a natural death! If we could only die a natural death! But who wants to die from thirst? Why did you bring us to the desert…?" They erred! Many commentaries point out that they should have responded properly over the loss of this righteous women, a prophetess, sister of Moshe and Aharon, and they should have expressed their gratitude for having water in her merit.

The well was taken away so the people would realize it had been there in her merit. Had they treated her death with proper reverence, as the Torah Temimah described, treating Moshe and Aharon with kindness, the water would return. They didn't – and they suffered on account of it.

Every generation has truly great leaders, who are revered, honored and respected in their lifetimes. It is our responsibility to make the most of their time on earth in enhancing our lives. When their time on this earth is over, we must feel the loss in the deepest depths of our being. We need the atonement that comes with such a loss.

A Prayer Lesson from the Parah

Parshat Chukat


by Rabbi Avi Billet
When it comes to discussions about the Parah Adumah (red heifer), many look to its symbolism or try to find a message in the concept of a "chok" – which is typically defined as a "mitzvah without a reason." [Though I wrote about this being a Chok with a Reason for Parshat Parah this year.]  Some focus on the unique quality of how the Parah Adumah mixture was metaher temeim and metameh tehorim (purified those who were impure, and made the pure (the one doing the sprinkling) impure).

 In chassidic annals the general approach to this and other symbols is to find moral teachings and ethical lessons that adherents can adapt to their lifestyles.

With regard to the metameh tehorim (etc) idea, the Baal Shem Tov was asked about the paradox that comes with this mitzvah. "If every mitzvah can teach us something about how to serve God, please explain where parah adumah - which turns a person who is already tahor (pure) to be tameh (impure) - fits in. It seems to be working backwards, bringing someone further from the spiritual purity that is the best state in which to serve God. How does it bring one closer to God?"

 The Baal Shem Tov equated this quality [bringing a reverse status on an individual] with the middot of Gayvah (haughtiness) and Anavah (humility).  For a person who is distant from observance of mitzvot and a commitment to serving God, it is good for him to have a little more 'haughtiness' about his capabilities. Instead of saying, "Who am I that I could even conceive that my prayer has any clout, or that there's any hope for me to turn around from my habits?" - that person should have much more confidence. Education or background is unrelated to one's ability to connect with the Almighty.

 On the other hand, a person who feels very strong in one's commitment and dedication to God could use more than a dose of humility in a personal reminder that "You still haven't 'arrived,' and you always need a lot more work before you reach 'that' level."

Many people who are committed to Tefillah and are regular participants in tefillah – whether with a minyan or on an individual basis – get it. The Tehillim groups get it. Those who even take the "Shir Hamaalot" added to the end of davening (in many shuls) seriously, also get it.

Those who ask a Rabbi or a Rebbe to pray for them, but who do not pray for themselves, do not get it. Those who rely on the "power of others," and do not give credit to their own strengths, their own abilities, their own sincerity, do not get it. One does not need to be an observant Jew to feel close to God, to feel dedicated to God, to have a relationship with God. Or even to "influence" God.


One of the greatest models of prayer in the Bible is Chana (Samuel I, Chapters 1-2). According to the Talmud she was a prophetess – though the prophesy which is attributed to her are her prayers. But she was not a rabbi, and she did not serve anyone else, or pray on anyone's behalf other than for herself. Other than being the mother of the prophet Shmuel, her fame is on account of her prayers, and that's it. 


Some people certainly feel God never hears them or responds to their prayers. And there are some people who absolutely feel that God is always listening and they "know" that their prayers have been heard, received, and "now it's in God's hands." 


The message of the Baal Shem Tov is so important because we need to find relevance to our lives in mitzvot that we cannot practice today. There is a tremendous void in a Jewish existence which does not include the Temple in Jerusalem, which will not be rebuilt until the Messianic Era is upon us. When in practice, the Parah Adumah had a profound significance, and played a very important role in the lives of those wishing to visit the Temple. 


The Baal Shem Tov teaches us that the quality of the Parah Adumah is a model for all. Those who seem to have every right to feel haughty and high and mighty about their connection to God need to be reminded that they have much to work on. 


And those who feel that a connection can not be found with God because they are too far away from Him or have too much getting in the way of such a relationship need to take a long look in the mirror and realize that that relationship is not exclusive to anyone. It is there for the taking for those who are ready to grab it.


The Baal Shem Tov's answer is that the paradox is what makes life interesting. There isn't a black or a white – because when it comes to the Red Heifer ritual, "what's black is white and what's white is black," so to speak. But every person must realize that arriving at the opposite extreme of where one currently finds oneself [ie in that the humble needs to exert more confidence, and the very confident needs to find doses of humility] might be the ticket to a more fulfilling relationship with God.

A Big Og? UGH!

Parshat Chukat

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In the battles that round out the end of Parshat Chukat, Moshe and the Israelites defeat Sichon and Og, and their respective nations. Before the battle with Og, Moshe is told by God not to fear for "I have given him into your hands." (21:34)

The Torah describes both kings as "giants," though the nature of their actual size is never discussed in the Torah itself. (The size of Og's bed is mentioned in Devarim 3:11, and while oversized, it by no means indicates he was anywhere near the height of a tall tree.) The Talmud (Niddah 64a) further tells us the two kings were brothers, and the rabbis talked about their individual stories, including discussions about how they each merited to achieve the longevity they enjoyed in their lives.

Some accounts indicate they may have been living since the time of the flood (around 800 years – See Rabbenu Bachaye on Bamidbar 21:34) while others say they were living from the time of Avraham (500 years).

The one with greater merits was Og, who is attributed with being the "palit" or refugee from the Sdom war of Bereishit 14, who came to tell Avraham about his nephew Lot's capture. It was the merit of helping Avraham save Lot that caused Moshe to fear Og's infallibility (Niddah 64a).

Moshe did not fear Sichon, so whatever size "giant" he may have been was clearly not a deterrent to facing him in battle. Og's merits, not his size, was the source of Moshe's concern.

The Talmud (Brachot 54b) describes the battle encounter of Moshe against Og. "Og uprooted a mountain of three parasangs and placed it on his head [to cover the Israelite camp with it.] God set grasshoppers upon it, and they burrowed a hole in the mountain and it fell round his neck. He tried to pull it off his head with his teeth but could not… How tall was Moshe? Ten cubits. He grabbed hold of an axe ten cubits long, leaped ten cubits, struck Og in the ankle and killed him."

On a simple literal level, Moshe was no slouch himself. A height of ten cubits would be somewhere between fifteen and twenty feet tall. While such a height is not something we see as likely, it is almost in the realm of the explainable.

At the same time, if Og's ankle was 30 cubits high, we can only imagine how big he was – a few hundred feet tall! He would make King Kong (25 feet) look smaller than a teddy bear in his eyes.

In an article entitled "The biology of King Kong" (Forbes.com, December 2005) the author quotes John Hutchinson, a researcher of large animals, who estimated Kong would weigh anywhere from 20 to 60 tons. He would not be athletic and would barely be able to move, supporting such weight on two legs.

In his book "Sacred Monsters" Rabbi Natan Slifkin indicates a giant of such magnitude (skyscraper height) would weigh in the millions of pounds.

Given that the indicated height of Og as suggested in the Talmud is likely not meant to be taken literally due to the biological improbability, how then are we to understand the Talmud?

Professor Admiel Kosman of Bar Ilan University wrote an article which appeared in "Professors on the Parashah" (Urim Publications) entitled "Was Og Just a Tall Story?" It can also be found online here.

He quotes the Rashba, who explains each image as a metaphor to merits. "The "mountain" that was Og's weapon alludes to the merits of our patriarchs," in his case Avraham, whom he had helped to save his nephew. "The grasshoppers, an allusion to the prayers of the Israelites, caused the merits of this "mountain" to disintegrate… Moses joined in the fray, countering the merits of Og with three other merits: the merits of the patriarchs (ten cubit leap into the past)…; Moses' own personal merits (ten cubits tall); and the merits of the people of Israel as a whole (ten-cubit ax)…. All these formed the weapon that Moses wielded against the merits of Og, and through them Og was ultimately vanquished."

The Maharsha (Brachot 54b) wonders why Moshe would be concerned that the merit of the forefathers would work more strongly for Og than for Moshe himself. He suggests instead that Og carried with him "Kochot HaTumah" (strength of impurity) that could come head to head with Moshe's spiritual powers.

He suggests that the 10-cubit ax represents the merit of the 2 tablets which contained the 10 Commandments. The 10-cubit jump represents the Mishkan which was 10-cubits tall, and had been erected by Moshe all by himself. [Moshe's height could refer to the merit of the ten plagues he had brought about.]

Not everything we read in the Torah and Midrashim is meant to be taken absolutely literally. While some things can be rationalized and explained as a supernatural creation or act of God, not everything must be explained in such a manner.

We are challenged to find satisfactory explanations for the Aggadic tales which are difficult to explain on a simple level. Only when we have sought the depths of Torah and its lessons to the point we are happy with the explanations can we truly say we have fulfilled our obligation of Torah study.

Repeating a faux pas

Parshat Chukat 

by Rabbi Avi Billlet

I don't know how you operate, but I'll make a confession here. As a father of young children, I have learned that when they do something really bad, I need only make them feel really guilty to have them learn never to repeat the offense. 

 Perhaps we operate the same way. As long as the bad things we do remain secrets, we're in the clear. Once we get caught, and suffer the embarrassment or slap on the wrist (or worse) that comes with the guilt, do we finally vow never to do those things again. 

 So it comes as a surprise when we read this week that Moshe chose to repeat what was arguably the biggest "fashla" (Hebrew slang for “oops moment") of his life. In 21:32, in a verse that is largely overlooked, Moshe does the unthinkable: "Moses sent out men to reconnoiter Ya'azer, and they captured its surrounding villages, driving out the Amorites who lived there." Reconnoiter is the term used in The Living Torah, and it means "to spy." So Moshe sent spies... again? Wouldn't that be the ultimate no-no? 

According to some commentaries, indeed even according to Moshe himself (Devarim 1:37), the incident of the spies in Parshat Shlach is what ultimately led to Moshe’s death in the desert. How could he be so foolish to send spies again? 

Because there is nothing foolish about sending spies, if it is done correctly. 

 In Shlach, there was pomp and ceremony and everyone knew who was going, when they were going, what their assignment was, and when they returned. Instead of reporting only to Moshe, they reported to everyone. And this time the spies themselves were different: according to Targum Yonatan, Moshe sent only two spies this time, Kalev and Pinchas, whose trustworthiness was beyond question. 

 Additionally, the spying fell in between battles, when the nation was pumped for war and knew they could win. 

 Finally, this was the next generation, a generation that complained about dying of natural causes, but not about having to face the enemy on the battlefield. 

 Still, all this being true, how could Moshe repeat his faux-pas? Because Moshe "Rabbenu," our teacher, is teaching us a lesson for all time. The Peter Principle posits that people rise to the level of their incompetence; then no further promotions are available. The concept of "teshuva," however, is that you may make a mistake along the road, but to know if your repentance has been accepted, you need to be faced with the same circumstances once again, and either you don't succumb to temptation or you rise to the occasion. 

 In Moshe's case, he needed another reason to send spies, to show that while he may have shared the blame the first time around, the ten bad spies had much to do with how things went wrong. Given the correct strategy and approach, the spying could serve the purpose for which it was intended, vindicating Moshe, and clearing him before his death of the reputation of (shudder) a failed commander-in-chief. 

Rashi says the spies went in saying "We don't want be like the first ones. We have faith in the power of Moshe's prayer to help us win the battle." He says the spies themselves were the ones who conquered Ya'azer. And the Rashi supercommentary Maskil L'David says the reason for the need to send spies was because they needed a "tikkun" (correction) through the same activity in which they sinned. These spies not only went in with the right attitude, but also were ready to sacrifice their lives in battle to give the entire nation the fix they needed to move beyond the wilderness experience. 

 These are amazingly powerful ideas. Moshe revisits his mistake to prove he can do things the right way. The spies are so selfless, they are willing, for the sake of the people, to make the ultimate sacrifice so that the generation waiting on the border of the land can let bygones be bygones and move on. 

 It almost sounds like a movie that opens with a training scene for the most far-fetched situation that could possibly happen. The far-fetched situation becomes the climax of the film (for real this time), and the teacher gives his life so the student can show he or she has surpassed the teacher. 

 The difference is that this is our history, our heritage, and what our lives are all about: second chances, the ability to try again, to make amends, to do it right, and the selfless dedication of those who believe in G-d and His most devoted ones, to carry out His will for the sake of heaven and the future of the Children of Israel.