This idea was born out of a learning session I had with my daughter, Aliza. She gets a lot of credit for the direction into which this thought developed.
The tale of the daughters of Tzlafchad is shrouded in mystery surrounding the death of their father.
But a new reading of the account lends to a new interpretation that perhaps his so-called “sin” wasn’t really a sin at all.
“Our father died in the desert. He was not among the members of Korach's party who protested against God, but he died [in/of] his own sin without leaving any sons.” (27:3)
The daughters of Tzlafchad ask Moshe for their father’s portion in the land because they feel his desert-death should not prevent his family inheriting a portion of land.
If their father’s death was relatively innocent, why compare it to Korach’s rebels? Were they really saying that he died because of a sin? How would they know that the sin was the reason for his death?
Abravanel raises a number of points that can help us answer these questions.
They compared their father to Korach to make it clear to Moshe that Tzlafchad never challenged him personally. This might help Moshe be more receptive to their request. Tzlafchad was not a controversial figure.
Their saying “He died in his sin” (‘b’chet’o met) makes any suggestion of his having died at the hands of man (such as the woodcutter in Bamidbar 15:32-36, or in any battle in Bamidbar 14) to be impossible.
But maybe that expression introduces us to what his “sin” was, namely that he did not have any sons.
Before we continue, let us make a couple of things clear. Not having sons is not a sin. People who have only daughters, or people who do not have children at all, have not sinned. It is in God’s hand to grant people children, and whatever cards He deals determines to what degree we have fulfilled our mitzvah to procreate. The Talmud tells us there are three partners in creation (Kiddushin 30b, Niddah 31a) (though modern science can perhaps be counted as a “fourth” partner in Creation for those struggling with infertility), but as one of my teachers once pointed out, the Talmudic passage in Shabbat 31a that lists the questions one will face at the Heavenly Court includes “Did you attempt to procreate?” The question is not whether you were successful or how many children you had, but whether you tried.
Tzlafchad had five daughters. But they are the ones who mention that “he died in his sin and he did not have sons.”
There is only one other place in the Torah when the idea of “not having sons” is mentioned: in a passage that describes how Nadav and Avihu, Aharon’s older sons, had died. Bamidbar 3:4 tells us “Nadav and Avihu died before God when they offered unauthorized fire to God in the Sinai Desert, and they had no sons.”
Trying to pinpoint why Nadav and Avihu died is a longer conversation, with many viewpoints and suggestions offered by the commentaries. But the Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 20) utilizes this verse to make a strange suggestion in the name of Rabbi Levi, that one of the reasons Nadav and Avihu died was because “They did not have sons.” (Bamidbar 3:4). While not having sons is not inherently a sin, it could be viewed in Torah language as a “chet” – a sin. (The Talmud Yevamot 64a suggests it may actually be a sin, but the Torah Temimah explains how it’s not a real sin) Seforno and others suggest that if Nadav and Avihu had sons, those sons would have been kohanim even before Elazar and Itamar. Not having produced these children, they missed out on bringing the next generation of kohanim into the world.
Perhaps, in using a similar language, Tzlafchad’s daughters were saying to Moshe, “Our father died leaving only daughters. In his own way, following the teaching we learned about Nadav and Avihu, his death was in a state of personal ‘sin’ because there were no sons. But, unlike Nadav and Avihu, who had no children, he left behind five daughters. We should get his portion so that our father’s name will not be forgotten.”
This may have actually been a brilliant ploy because Moshe viewed his nephews Nadav and Avihu as very holy (Vayikra 10:3). Perhaps Tzlafchad’s daughters’ appeals to Moshe (and his feelings about his nephews), explaining their circumstance in similar terms, helped Moshe come to the conclusion that of course they should inherit because it is unfair for their father’s circumstance to be compared to Nadav and Avihu. Particularly if Moshe looked past Nadav and Avihu’s lack of children, he would see that Tzlafchad’s daughters were all that their father could have wished for and more.
Certainly having daughters is a great blessing. And maybe, after this tale, the concept of the “sin” of not having sons was laid to rest forever. Because raising children is not about gender. It is about teaching the next generation how to be good people, and good Jews. And certainly in that respect, Tzlafchad was anything but a failure or sinner. He was quite successful!
This was my sermon this past Shabbos. Some thoughts on the Holocaust, its aftermath, and on our responsibilities as the Jewish people to avoid religious extremism...
No words or thoughts can soften the blow of the toll the Holocaust had on the
worldwide Jewish communities, and the impact it still has. The numbers remain
unfathomable. The declining overall Jewish birthrate is not replenishing the
loss, assimilation is making things even worse, and from a certain perspective,
Jewish identity and knowledge is declining overall.
These
last facts are often fodder for the spewings of anti-Semites who claim the
Protocols of the Elders of Zion is not a forgery – they would advocate for
thinking people to believe there is an active effort and network of Jews
worldwide to take over the world.
Another
side of the coin: We have sadly gotten to a point where Jewish comedians make
jokes about the Holocaust. I see articles about poor and needy Holocaust survivors who are being neglected in the US and in Israel.
And a self-proclaimed denier of the Holocaust, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, is given a
chance to speak at the United Nations General Assembly.
We live in strange times.
It is
troubling to read or hear people, especially Jewish people, assigning blame for
either why the Holocaust happened, or which Jews were responsible for not doing
more. We are human – we do not know and will not know why personal or national
tragedy befalls member or the entirety of Our People.
A number of years ago I
read a transcribed speech of Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch – in the book Reb Moshe
Speaks, in which he blamed the Zionists – the secular living in Israel,
who did not want an influx of European Jews in Palestine
– for not doing enough to save Jews. I have seen similar accusations hurled at Chassidic
Rebbes and Roshei Yeshiva for telling their constituents that this too will
pass—stay, there is no reason to run away. [The troubling conflict they faced is analyzed here] The truth is, who knew? Who really
could have foreseen what Hitler's Nazi Machine could do? Who really understood
the gravity of the Final Solution.
Don't
blame Jews for the Holocaust! Blame the Nazis for the Holocaust! And blame an
indifferent world for ignoring those who escaped and
reported, and for turning a blind eye to what was going
on!
In his
recent visit to Israel,
President Obama was addressed by Rabbi Israel Meir Lau at Yad Vashem. Rabbi Lau
told a personal memory of Rabbi Herschel Schacter, father of Rabbi JJ Schacter,
who happened to pass away the day before Obama's visit to Yad Vashem, of his
role as the chaplain for the US Army who liberated Buchenwald, where young
Lulek Lau was liberated as a child at age 8. Then he spoke of a member of the military that he met 68 years after the war, who apologized to him saying, "We were too late!" And Rabbi Lau asked of President
Obama not to be too late in standing up for what is right for the safety and
well being of the Jewish people in Israel
and around the world.
The
Pasuk towards the end of Va'eschanan says - דברים
פרק ו - יח) וְעָשִׂיתָ הַיָּשָׁר וְהַטּוֹב בְּעֵינֵי יְקֹוָק לְמַעַן יִיטַב
לָךְ וּבָאתָ וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ הַטֹּבָה אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע יְקֹוָק
לַאֲבֹתֶיךָ: The formula is
quite simple. Do what God wants – what is ישר וטוב in His eyes, and good things will
happen.
As we
learn from Paroh, who was perhaps a messenger of God who chose to take things
to the extreme he did, it is the oppressor that is to blame for turning the
oppressed into the victims. Blaming Jews for the Holocaust is disgraceful. We
blame Nazis and indifferent passive anti-Semites.
However,
what we can do is look at the precedent of Tanakh and see that there are many
warnings of what will happen to the Jewish people if they choose not to do what
God wants. Read the Tokhachas of Bechukosai and Ki Savo, and some things become
abundantly clear – as they have been played out for the Jewish people
generation after generation – like a script followed expertly by its
performers, villains and heroes, persecutors and victims.
Are
there guarantees that good will always be the result or that bad will never be
the result? No. We do not know the ways of God. But certainly a reasonable
formula for good tidings and outcomes, as per the Torah's description, is doing
what God wants.
This
morning we read of the dedication of the Mishkan on the Yom HaShmini – when all
the parts of the animals to be burned were placed on the Mizbeach, all was set,
leaving God to bring the anticipated fireworks. And did He deliver! when a fire
descended from the heavens and consumed all items fated for burning.
Everyone
present knew this was a heavenly fire. The Midrash Agada says when the people
saw the fire consuming the Korban parts, נפלו על
פניהם ואמרו שירה, על אותה השעה הוא אומר רננו צדיקים בה' לישרים נאוה תהלה (תהלים
לג א'. They knew they
were in the presence of God, that nothing could go wrong, because they were
doing everything right.
The
fire that consumed Nadav and Avihu, on the other hand, was clearly a punishing
fire. And why? With the exception of the very minority opinion that says the
deaths of Nadav and Avihu were preordained and were necessary for the
sanctification of the Mishkan, most everyone tries to nail the coffin, so to
speak, on where they went wrong.
[There
are many opinions: 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, alternatively they caused women to be Agunos, all thinking they might marry the two most eligible bachelors), 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 (thank you to Rabbi Josh Flug for making me aware of some of these)]
Even
the Torah says they brought an אש זרה, a strange fire, that God had not
commanded. That God chose to make that or any of the suggested reasons a death
sentence is His business, but it is a reflection of the fact that they were not
doing what God wanted.
We can
not give answers for the Holocaust. But in these days post the Holiday of
Redemption we can ask why the Redemption has not come? Perhaps part of the
answer was and continues to be – עד ביאת גואל צדק – that as a united Jewish People,
there are too many imperfections in our fulfillment of God's will.
What
God wants is laid out clearly in the middle of Devarim Chapter 10, and Micha
chapter 6 verse 8 – it's the last pasuk in the Haftorah of Parshas Balak. Look
them up and know those pesukim well. "God asks of you only that you remain
in awe of God your Lord, so that you will follow all His paths and love Him,
serving God your Lord with all your heart and with all your soul keeping
his commandments and decrees that I am de\scribing to you today." "He
has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord demands of you; but to do
justice, to love loving-kindness, and to walk discreetly/humbly with your
God."
These
verse mostly address the responsibilities we have between Man and God. And
between Man and Man, which is a reflection of what it means to be a Godly
person, we have many of the rules which are spelled out in Parshat Kedoshim,
which we will read in a few weeks.
And we
need to contrast all these with what God surely does not want:
Neglect
of the Torah and mitzvos on the one hand, and neglect of fellow Man on the other.
Sinas Chinam continues to plague our people.
On the
other side, I read an editorial in a right-wing Orthodox magazine, in which the
author spoke of the battle between Orthodoxy and non-Orthodoxy, which he
believes will be won by the Orthodox.
Are
these what God wants? Bashing, name calling, a battle?
In the
aftermath of the latest election in Israel, there is an uproar over the draft
of the Chareidim. Some of the arguments I have read against the draft – from
the Chareidi side – would be funny if they didn't mean them seriously.
From
the UK edition of Hamodia [as quoted here]: "Our Hashkofoh obligates us to
demand state support for Torah and chessed mosdos, not out of
concern that they won't be able to continue to provide vital services to the
weaker sectors, but to provide a merit for the government, which is so in need
of Heavenly mercy. Even if the government doesn't appreciate and understand the
workings of midoh keneged midoh, its support for such institutions
will serve its interests."
One
wonders if the writer has taken any notice of the reality of our world.
The
theological arguments promoting a learning only culture and a
government-entitlement culture, in which men do not work or participate in
society are anti-thetical to the Torah.
ששת ימים תעבד!
Work! Teach your child a trade! And find time to learn when you've fulfilled
your work obligations.
Every
Bible hero and every Talmudic master had a trade. Some were wealthy some were
dirt poor. But they worked.
And
when push literally came to shove, the Biblical heroes bore arms and fought –
for themselves, their families and their nation. Was Avraham a military man?
Was Yaakov – the Ish Tam Yoshev Ohalim? Was Moshe a fighter? Was Shmuel Hanavi a
warrior? No! But they fought when they needed to!
Who
were Yehoshua, Otniel ben Knaz, Ehud ben Geirah, Gideon, Yiftach, Shimshon,
Shaul, David? Great leaders and warriors, famous for their military
accomplishments!
I read another article
entitled "Israeli Rabbi Causes Uproar
By Post On Facebook Saying He Shaves During Sefira". The
article explains that he is a mohel – according to halakha a mohel can get a
haircut and shave for a bris during sefirah. But that's beside the point! An
UPROAR? Over a Facebook post about a minhag? The mourning of the sefirah period
is meant to be a reminder of why Rabbi Akiva's students
died – because lo nahagu kavod zeh lazeh. Perhaps Rabbi Akiva was forced to
realize that V'ahavta L'reiakha Kamokha is such an important principle of the
Torah as a lesson learned from the way his students respected, or didn't
respect, one another, and the fact that they died because of their behavior.
The mourning feeling reminds us of this. And people getting in a tizzy over one
person's interpretation of a minhag misses the point entirely. Mind your own
business and mourn over what could have been had Rabbi Akiva's students
survived and taught Torah to the world.
Let us reject religious extremism – in the pro religion or in the anti-religion
(those whose "religion" it is to mock religion) side. People need to
be educated and need to make educated choices. Some choose to make halakha
important in their lives. Some choose not to. And some don't know anything
about it. And some, to quote Groucho Marx in Horse Feathers, say "whatever
it is, I'm against it."
A halakhic life is not yet in the cards for
everyone. But respecting those who choose it, or who choose not to have it, must
be in the cards for everyone.
The first section of our parsha demonstrated the way to do God's will, in which
people fell on their faces in praise of God. The second section, Nadav and
Avihu's tale, and its aftermath, demonstrates an admittedly extreme measure of
what can happen when people go against what God has said. Certainly the
Holocaust was an extreme measure. And 2000 years of exile is also an extreme
measure. But the ways of God are often hidden from us.
We must strive, as much and as best as we are able, to do what God wants. It is
our job to be tolerant of others, to share our knowledge when possible, and to
be good examples. But we can not let extremism take over who we are! Of course
people must stand for something! But if what they stand for is harmful to a
society, or makes life unbearable for others who live in that society – either
because they make demands or don't contribute to any cause from which they
benefit – this is wrong.
No
ethical religion mandates such a policy, and it should be shunned and rejected.
Living in a society means contributing to it, noticeably, tangibly, and in a
manner that indicates clearly that I believe in this, because this is where my
life is. It means being tolerant of others, letting people live their lives,
and being a model citizen. Respecting the law of the land – advocating for
change through the proper channels when necessary – but abiding by the law
while it is the law. [Footnote – see Women of the Wall. - who are welcome to pray at the Wall, but are just asked to follow the law]
The Law
in Israel, for example, respects Shabbos on Holocaust, Memorial and
Independence Days.
For a
Jew being the model Jew ideally means following those texts in Devarim and
Micha to round out one's religious experience vis a vis God. And with regard to
one's fellow man it means respecting the other person, showing compassion,
empathy, being a good listener and doing God's work - looking out for others
honestly, with dignity, doing our part to help bring about the Final
Redemption.
Tragedy has struck. Aharon's two older sons are dead,
victims of their own efforts in bringing a 'strange fire' into the Mishkan. Now
their corpses must be removed from a room only their father and brothers may
enter, yet these very people are the ones who are prevented from entering
because they have a job to do, and responsibilities which can not fall by the
wayside – the inevitable outcome of their becoming "tameh" through
contact with the deceased.
And so Mishael and
Eltzafan are called in. They are described to us as "The sons of Uziel,
uncle of Aharon."
Being students of the
Torah, we know the relationship of all these people from Shmot 6:18 and 6:22.
So why does the Torah
add the unnecessary words, "Uncle of Aharon?"
Rashi tells us nothing
new when he explains that "Uziel was the brother of Amram." Rabbenu
Bachaye even wonders why Rashi bothered to tell us this – we know it from Shmot
6. Rabbenu Bachaye explains what he believes was Rashi's line of thinking based
in a Midrashic idea (Midrash Agadah, Yalkut Shimoni, etc) that the Torah is
coming to teach us how Aharon had inherited his qualities of being a
"lover and pursuer of peace" from his Uncle Uziel. Malbim similarly
explains that he was his beloved uncle who had similar qualities in general,
and that there is a unique kind of filial attachment that relatives who are
very similar have for one another.
I find this difficult
to accept as an answer – because it doesn't explain Rashi very well. If the
meaning was to suggest that Aharon was more like his uncle than his father, why
didn't Rashi just say that? Perhaps Rashi was simply noting that this verse
supports information we had been given earlier.
Rabbi Ovadiah MiBartenura suggests that one might
mistakenly think that Aharon's Uncle Uziel was a different Uziel married to a
sister of Amram. In this manner, it is being made clear that Mishael and
Eltzafan, sons of the brother of Amram, are Levites. The rule is made clear
that if no Kohanim are available to remove the corpses, Levites could enter the
Mishkan, but not regular Israelites.
Furthermore, the
Sha"kh explains, their connection to Aharon through their father is
significant for other reasons. "There is no one other than you two who can
get them; they were sgan-kohanim and you are sgan-levites (sgan = Vice). You
were both at the same level in your field. Eltzafan was to be the prince of the
Levites (Bamidbar 3:30). Just as
Aharon and Uziel were equated, so were their respective sons equated (even
though Mishael and Eltzafan were Aharon's first cousins and of his generation,
it is the father-son equation which parallels them with Nadav and Avihu)."
The Netziv adds that
Mishael and Eltzafan were modest and humble in their own way. The special
kinship between Aharon and Uziel allowed for this branch of the family to take
care of the tragic unfoldings on Aharon's behalf. There were, after all, some
members of the family who were jealous of Aharon (think Korach), and might have
viewed his tragedy as their opportunity to one-up him, to gloat in his loss.
But this was not the way, nor the concern of the family of Uziel, who were
family-people through and through.
It is important to note
that Aharon is often used in the Torah as a family connection. When Miriam
dances after the splitting of the sea, she is described as "the sister of
Aharon." Pinchas is described a number of times as "Pinchas son of
Elazar, son of Aharon."
There are three
approaches as to why Miriam is described as "the sister of Aharon":
either because she prophesied first of all her siblings – even before Aharon
(Otzar Midrashim), she prophesied when
she was only the sister of Aharon – about the birth of Moshe (Talmud Megillah
14a), or because he gave his life for her (Midrash Sechel Tov Beshalach 15).
Being connected to
Aharon, whose reputation is so outstanding, is a tribute to Miriam, a tribute
to Pinchas, a tribute to Elazar (when he is Kohen Gadol), and continues to be a
tribute to all the Kohanim, whom we continue to call Bnei Aharon.
In short, Uziel's being called Aharon's uncle is a
tremendous credit to a man about whom we otherwise know very little. The role
his sons play, and the fact of their being chosen to take the deceased out of
the Mishkan speaks volumes of who each of them was on a personal level, not to
mention (or specifically to mention) the stock from which they came.
May all parents,
grandparents, uncles and aunts merit to have children, grandchildren or nieces
and nephews about whom we are proud to say, "I am the parent/ grandparent/
aunt/ uncle of So-and-so. And I am proud of it." Especially if you see a
little bit of yourself in the next generation.
Because this kind of
pride, unencumbered by jealousy, is what makes a family unit strongest, as it demonstrates who among us models the behavior we most proudly affirm.
In the aftermath of the massacre of the Fogel family in Itamar, Parshat Shmini couldn't be more timely in its arrival. While the impetus for the deaths of Aharon's sons, Nadav and Avihu, is obviously not comparable to the heinous crime committed in Israel, it is the aftermath of their demise which is most instructive.
What brought about the deaths of Aharon's older sons? Most discussions analyze the specific nature of the particular service they were performing. Were they drunk? Were they wearing the proper clothing? Did they enter an area prohibited to them? Did they perform a service reserved for their father alone? Did they merely bring a strange fire?
The different approaches curtail our ability to know exactly what triggered their deaths. A thorough analysis, however, helps paint entirely different pictures, suggesting that, perhaps, Aharon's sons died for other reasons.
Picture #1: Shmot 29:43 says that when the Mishkan will be dedicated, "It is there that I will commune with the Israelites, and [the tabernacle] will thus be sanctified with My glory." In other words, something grand will happen which will demonstrate God's awesome power. A sacrifice of some kind will be offered, which will consecrate the Tabernacle. It may or may not relate to the actions of individuals.
Picture #2: Shmot 19:22 says, "The priests, who [usually] come near the Divine must also sanctify themselves, or else God will send destruction among them." This verse leads us to believe that somehow, Nadav and Avihu did not properly sanctify themselves.
Picture #3: Shmot 24:9-11 presents a strange narrative of the actions of some of the leading figures of Israel. "Moses then went up, along with Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, and seventy of Israel's elders. They saw a vision of the God of Israel, and under His feet was something like a sapphire brick, like the essence of a clear [blue] sky. [God] did not unleash His power against the leaders of the Israelites." Targum Yonatan explains that God saved his punishment for them until the Yom HaShmini, 'the eighth day' of our parsha, while Rashi explains that they deserved to be killed at that time, based on the verse "And [God] said you may not see My face, for a human can not see me and live." (Shmot 33:20)
Picture #4: When describing why Elazar and Itamar are described by the Torah as "the remaining, or spared sons", Rashi on Vayikra 10:12 says "Those spared – from death. It teaches us that the death was also decreed upon [Elazar and Itamar] over the sin of the Golden Calf as it says 'And God was angry enough with Aharon to destroy him.' 'Destruction' refers to the deaths of his sons, as it says (Amos 2) 'I destroyed his fruits from above.' Moshe’s prayer canceled half of the decree as it says 'And I prayed on Aharon’s behalf at that time.'"
In other words, all of Aharon's sons should have died as punishment for his behavior in the Golden Calf story, but on account of Moshe, Aharon's punishment was reduced. He only lost two sons instead of all four. [This is not the forum to discuss the theological or philosophical implications of a punishment in which the father loses his children, or in which children have to die on account of the sins of the father.]
The point of the analysis is that we have no idea why things happen, or what truly constitutes God's Master Plan. And it is obvious that in many cases, it is impossible for us to understand.
The possible reasons for Aharon's son's deaths, as presented, have nothing to do with the story in Itamar. The parallel of half of Aharon's sons is coincidental to the fact of half of the family's children being lost. The fact remains - there is no comparison. Nadav and Avihu were taken by God, while the five Fogels were taken by monsters disguised as human beings.
The brutal nature of the murders of the Fogel family has all of the Jewish people shuddering with revulsion at the abhorrent nature of the crime. How divorced from humanity does one need to be to see any shred of justification in such a despicable act?
In Aharon's case, he carries on. The lesson is learned. He must find solace in his other children, and do all he can to protect them. He must make sure they follow the laws, and adhere to the instructions outlined for them by God. And they grow, in time, to become great men. In Elazar's case, he fills his father's shoes more than adequately.
In the case of the Fogel family, as for all of Israel, the lesson must be learned as well. Security must be a top priority. The care of the remaining children, of this and all attacks, are the responsibility of all the Jewish people. One supermarket owner, Rami Levy, has apparently committed to keep the family's pantry stocked with food until the youngest Fogel child turns 18. This form of generosity knows no bounds.
Israel must have a more forceful response than "they kill, we build" to send the message that the blood of its citizens, on all sides of the Green Line, is not cheap. We want all of our people to have the opportunity to grow up, and like Aharon's surviving sons, to have the chance to become great people.
