To Have Eyes and Yet Not See – the Curse of Bilaam?

For those who are interesting in helping those who are in need at this time, please be aware that The Shul of Bal Harbour, under the leadership of Rabbi Shalom Lipskar, has created a central fund to be dispersed as needed directly to the victims and their families at thechesedfund.com/shulofbalharbour/miamitragedy. In the merit of our Teshuvah, Tefillah and Tzedakah, May we merit to see no more tragedies. 

Parshat Balak 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Another terrible tragedy has befallen members of our greater Jewish community, as well as many of our Florida brothers and sisters in Surfside and beyond. What message is Hashem trying to tell us? Why so costly a message? What did all these people do to have this be their fate? 

There is no way to answer these questions. We mourn, we pray, we assist where we can, and we hope for all who are injured to recover, and for all the mourners to find a path forward. 

Historically these kinds of events were meant to inspire introspection in those who survive or who are untouched. Why did this happen to them? Why not me? Again, unanswerable questions. 

However, we are also enjoined to heed the fact that God is talking to us. In some way He is telling us to remember Who is really in charge. 

The Talmud suggests that Bilaam was blind in one eye. There are subtle hints to this in the text, such as when Bilaam says “'This is the word of Beor's son Balaam, the word of the man with the enlightened eye.” This translation is from Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s “Living Torah” and on the words “enlightened eye,” Rabbi Kaplan includes the following note, first attributing his translation to the view of Ramban and Midrash Aggadah. 

“Shethum in Hebrew. Or, 'future seeing eye' (Lekach Tov), 'seeing eye' (Targum; Saadia); 'open eye' (Rashbam; Radak, Sherashim; Rashi); 'true-sighted eye' (Septuagint); 'sleepless' (Ibn Janach), 'evil eye' (Zohar 1:68b); 'dislocated' (Rashi); 'blinded' (Sanhedrin 105a; Niddah 31a). 

The question can be asked in either direction – if he was blind in one eye, how could the other commentaries refer to him as one with great vision? If he is referred to in the text as this great visionary, why would the Talmud go to any length to suggest he is blind? Perhaps three Chassidic teachings can “enlighten” us as to what may be taken from this information. 

1. A person can not truly achieve prophesy without having dedicated oneself to holiness, without having sanctified oneself to serve God fully and completely, and without being dedicated to purity. Bilaam, who dedicated everything about himself to impurity, was thus challenged from achieving his potential as a prophet for the nations of the world. God therefore blinded him in one eye to prevent him from sinning with that eye, to allow him to focus his energies for his remaining eye in the proper direction. Because it was all that remained, it became the source of ALL of his vision – thereby making the lone eye enlightened (told over in the name of the Baal Shem Tov). 
2. Every person needs to have two eyes – one for seeing how great, and mighty is the Master of the World, and the other is for seeing one’s own lowliness and need for humility. Bilaam understood God’s greatness, as evidenced by what he told Balak’s emissaries. But he was unable to see his own need for humility. Thus, whether he was truly blind or not, he was as if he only had one eye. (Harav HaZaken MiNeshchiz) 
3. The Midrash has God asking Bilaam – “If your intent is to destroy the nation of Israel, who will keep My Torah?” and Bilaam answered, “I will.” God thus had Bilaam’s donkey stray from the path 3 times (שלש רגלים) (22:33) including the one time when Bilaam’s leg (רגל) was smashed against a wall, and also had Bilaam strike the donkey 3 times (שלש רגלים) (22:28,32) so Bilaam could receive a subtle hint of the mitzvah to go to the Mishkan/Mikdash for the שלש רגלים – Three Festivals. Bilaam was being told, a person who is blind in one eye, and crippled in one leg, who is such a Baal Mum (blemished individual) is exempt from the mitzvah, and unable to fulfill his intent of replacing the Bnei Yisrael as Torah observers. (Peninim Yekarim) 

Along similar lines, the Chozeh of Lublin noted in last week’s parsha, on the verse describing the red heifer that it needs to be one “that does not have a blemish and never had a yoke on it,” that this is also a note to human beings. A person who views himself or herself as having reached the pinnacle of achievement in this life, who has no flaws and no need for improvement has identified as a person who does not carry the burden of the yoke of Heaven – עול מלכות שמים. The Chozeh would say, if the person had even the smallest burden of the yoke of Heaven, the person would see a person who has far too many flaws, far too many spiritual מומים (blemishes) and would know there is still much to achieve and much to accomplish. 

 Bilaam was a man possessed with talents and blessed with gifts. As humble as he thought he was, and as special a relationship he believed he had with God, he couldn’t get over his own ego that drove him to want to curse the Bnei Yisrael, even as he knew God would not let him. God’s instruction to him didn’t produce a verse such as we’ve seen regarding Moshe’s humility. We never hear “And Bilaam was exceedingly humble” because he wasn’t! 

Whether he was literally blind in one eye, or whether he was simply blind to his own flaws, we can learn from Bilaam a simple litmus test for ourselves as individuals and ourselves as a people. 

We are once again facing 17 Tammuz, the 3 Weeks, and unless the Messiah comes, the prospect of another Tisha B’Av. The redemption, though we are to wait for it and anticipate it daily, is not yet here. 

We have one life to live – do we view ourselves as people who have arrived and therefore don’t need to take steps to shake the heavens to change the status quo? Or do we aim, in our lives, to challenge God to redeem us and bring us back to the way they were/are supposed to be? Do we do so through taking increased steps towards serving Him better? A greater commitment to Torah and Mitzvot? 

With an ever increasing amount of suffering in the world, we like to think we’re so close to the end. But we are not going to get there resting on any laurels alone. If we had the laurels, we’d have arrived already. The challenge is for all of Am Yisrael to step up our game (so to speak) and our commitments. We must feel the yoke of Heaven as a burden we carry always, so we will always be proceeding forward and upward in our relationship with Hashem. 

May suffering come to an end, and may we merit to see the salvation and comfort that was promised to us so long ago.

Singing A Song About Water, and Moving Forward

Parshat Chukat 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Despite the traumatic events of Mei Merivah (the Waters of Strife) from which we see Moshe and Aharon fated not to lead the people into the land of Canaan, along with a lesson of Chapter 20 not to complain about food or water when asking to go through the Land of Edom (e.g. verse 17), we nevertheless once again see a complaint emanating from the people in the early part of Chapter 21 in which they complain about a lack of food and water (21:5). This is even after Aharon had died, and we were once again told that certain actions at Mei Merivah caused Aharon to have to die (20:24). 

The snakes come, and we see the creation of the copper snake which helps thwart the snakebites from being deadly (21:6-9). 

It is in the aftermath of these narratives that we are told the people once again gathered at the well (21:16). At this gathering, the Torah shares a brief song which starts with the following words: אָ֚ז יָשִׁ֣יר יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אֶת־הַשִּׁירָ֖ה הַזֹּ֑את עֲלִ֥י בְאֵ֖ר עֱנוּ־לָֽהּ: “It was then that Israel sang this song: Rise, O well, respond to [this song].” 

The opening verse here is of course most reminiscent of the Song of the Sea, with two notable differences. (1) Moshe is not participating in the song, and (2) we are not told that the song is directed towards God. 

A number of commentators direct our attention to the Midrash Tanchuma on this section (which is quite similar to Bamidbar Rabba 19:26), which begins by addressing those two questions, and goes on to explain more about this song. (All translations of the Midrash are from sefaria.org)

“For what reason is Moses not mentioned there? For the reason that he was being punished because of the waters; and no person praises his executioner/speculator (“examiner” or “overseer”) (this word is written out in Hebrew as ספקלטור). And why is the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, not mentioned there? The matter is comparable to a governor who made a banquet for the king. The king said, “Will my friend so-and-so be there?” They told him, “No.” He said, “[Then] I also am not going there.” Also here the Holy One, blessed be He, said, “Inasmuch as Moses is not mentioned, I also will not be mentioned there.” 

The Midrash goes on to describe how the Nesiim (princes) would channel the water for their encampments, and that these water channels divided between the sections of the camp (North, South, East, West surrounding the Mishkan) such that “a woman who had to go to her companion from one standard to [another] standard went by ship, as stated (in Ps. 105:41), ‘they traveled the river by tsiyyot.’” 

The Midrash continues noting that these rivers “would cause endless varieties of green herbage and trees to grow, as stated (in Ps. 23:2), “[He makes me lie down] in green pastures; [He leads me beside still waters].” All those the days that Israel was in the desert they used it (i.e., the well). Therefore, they rendered praise for it [with the song ending] (in Numb. 21:18), “the well that the princes dug.” (Numb. 21:18, cont.:) “From Midbar (literally, desert) to Mattanah,” [so stated] because in the desert [the well] was given (nittenah) them to use as a gift (mattanah).” 

Before going into a detailed exposition of what the names of the locations mentioned in the following verses (21:18-20) mean for the future, with a Temple centered in Jerusalem, the Midrash equates the waters of the well with the Torah, both of which were specifically given in the wilderness, both of which were aimed at providing a form of sustenance for the people. 

1. Why was [the well] given in the desert? Because if it had been given to them in the land, the tribe in whose border it was given would have argued and said, “I have a prior claim to it.” For that reason it was given in the desert where all would have an equal claim to it. 

2. And for what other reason was it given in the desert? Just as a desert is neither sown nor cultivated, so is the one who receives the words of Torah. They remove from him the yoke of the government and the yoke of earning a living. Just as a desert does not grow arnona so are children of Torah (i.e., Torah scholars) free [from it] in this world. I.e., by accepting the yoke of Torah, such scholars are exempt from government taxes and the need to earn a living. 

3. Another interpretation [of why it was given] in the desert: Who is the one who fulfills the Torah? One who uses himself like the desert, [i.e.,] whoever makes himself like a desert and removes himself from everything [that might distract him]. 

From all of this, perhaps we can draw a few important lessons. 

A. Trauma is trauma. Singing about the well in Moshe’s presence would have been insulting and very hurtful. 

B. God cares about His children, even if they have done wrong, and even if they have negative consequences coming from their errors. However we understand Moshe’s role and outcome from the incident with the rock, a sensitivity was in order both from the people and from God to not expect Moshe to participate in any homage to the life-sustaining nature of the well. 

C. The best leaders do their best to take care of their people, sometimes at their own peril. Moshe gave up everything for the people. The Nesi’im did their part to channel the water to their people. Systems were put in place to help friends visit one another, despite the waterways that divided the camps. 

D. Wilderness existence was dependent on God, but it wasn’t only a food supply of water and Manna. Other food was brought into the mix, which kept the people grounded in the real world, knowing that their miraculous existence was a stop-gap, but never meant to last forever. 

E. There is great merit to carrying the metaphor of the wilderness into one’s existence, whether it’s to have a clean slate (as we pray for on the High Holidays), whether it’s being open to new ideas, whether it’s to see that the wilderness belongs to nobody, and therefore it’s truly available for everybody (no one has exclusive rights to it), or that in the right alignment, it can bring a unique kind of freedom from some responsibilities. 

F. In one form or another, Torah is supposed to bring a fulfillment to one’s life, as is knowing where one’s physical sustenance comes from… 

This song is largely overlooked in the annals of Torah study, but its lessons of sensitivity, and its charge for making life meaningful can speak to us no matter where we are in life, and no matter how much more we want to get closer to the Almighty and to our fellow man.

Leaders We Deserve

Parshat Korach 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The Haftorah describes the aftermath of the first battle in which the newly anointed King Shaul proves himself in the eyes of the nation who had received his appointment, requested by them, with a particular lack of fanfare. An air of cynicism is even recorded at the end of Chapter 10, as some people questioned whether “This one will save us.” 

In Chapter 11, Shaul emerges as a true leader in bringing a great salvation to the people of Yavesh Gilead (who return the favor at the very end of Shmuel Alef), and the prophet Shmuel suggests that the nation re-accept Shaul as king, now that they’ve seen his abilities. It is at that ceremony that Shmuel gives a speech eerily similar to the one Moshe gives in our parsha, when Moshe is confronted by Datan and Aviram, who challenge Moshe’s abilities as, in their opinion, a failed leader who was unable to fulfill his promise of bringing the people to the Promised Land. In Shmuel’s case, he speaks of how the people rejected his leadership, as the last Shofet (judge), in favor of a king, whose leadership style will necessarily impose on certain freedoms the people have enjoyed. Moshe is pointing to the unfairness of the claims made against him because the failures of the people to make it to the Promised Land are because of their behavior and rejection of God, rather than Moshe’s personal failures. 

Shmuel (12:3) : Here I am; bear witness against me before the Lord and before His anointed; whose ox did I take, or whose donkey did I take, or whom did I rob; or whom did I oppress, or from whose hand did I take a ransom, that I hide my eyes therewith, and I shall restore to you.

Moshe (Bamidbar 16:15): Moshe became very angry. He prayed to God, 'Do not accept their offering. I did not take a single donkey from them! I did not do any of them any harm!' 

Shmuel is reassured that the people harbor no ill will, they affirm that they accuse him of nothing of the kind. They simply want a king – they are perfectly happy with Shmuel as the prophet/spiritual leader 

Moshe, on the other hand, is patently ignored by those he is addressing; his honesty is irrelevant because their hatred of him runs too deep. They are accusing him of lording over them, when he knows very well he has only been self-sacrificing for the people. 

To be sure, both leaders are less suggesting that they never received anything from anyone than they are certainly claiming that they never used their king-like-status to their advantage to appropriate or lay claim to any property, tangible or intangible, that belonged to someone else. 

Shmuel is noting how he never took bribes in order to favor one person over another in judgment. Moshe Rabbenu is noting that even when he first came, when he didn’t want the job of taking the Israelites out of Egypt, he could have demanded a company car (or donkey), that all expenses getting him to Egypt should be covered by the Israelites. But he didn’t even do that! 

Additionally, Chizkuni notes Moshe’s final expression in this verse, “I did not do any of them any harm!” and suggests that is a personal response to Datan and Aviram, who were responsible for telling Pharaoh of Moshe’s having killed the Egyptian and he never sought any kind of vengeance for their effectively forcing him into exile. 

Both Moshe and Shmuel saw a serious upheaval of the Jewish communal institutions of their time, as we might see it, through the passage from bondage to freedom, from being slaves to Pharaoh to becoming servants of the Almighty in Moshe’s time, and the transition from libertarianism and anarchy to a monarchy and a more centralized order in Shmuel’s time. 

The key point that Moshe and Shmuel may have in common, relevant most to our era, is their lack of conflicts of interest. Their agenda, as it were, was “to help the people serve God in the most meaningful way, under the guidance of Torah and halakha” with no ulterior motive. 

Anything they saw getting in the way of those noble goals was a distraction. This is why each leader, in his own time, threw the same distraction back at the people. “Don’t accuse me of having a conflict of interest, or of overstepping my role, or of usurping power not given to me naturally by my role. I know who I am, I know what my role is, I know my position visavis the people, and I have always given my utmost to the nation in helping foster the right kind of relationship they are to have with God.” 

Even God said to Shmuel, “The people didn’t reject you in asking for a king. They rejected Me.” Shmuel was perturbed at what he was seeing, but God had to tell him it wasn’t personal between the people and him. It was an affront to God that they were asking for a king, but not a rejection of the prophet and that which he represented. 

We should be blessed to have leaders who, like Moshe and Shmuel, are altruistic, know their job, fill their role as best as possible, don’t take advantage of the people, and really want the best for the people. Our leaders should similarly be blessed that they not be held back by distractions or by things which get in the way of their doing that which they are tasked with doing – growing Torah institutions, teaching Torah, raising people up, being a moral, spiritual and emotional source of support, guiding and inspiring people to greatness in their personal relationship with God, and being an example and a model of what it means to live a life of Kiddush Hashem, sanctifying God’s name as much and as often as possible.

Kalev, the Hero

Parshat Shlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

One of the most admirable characters in all of the Torah is Kalev ben Yefuneh. What makes Kalev so special? He was a true mentsch, a quiet leader, a family man. He was a silent hero who spoke when he needed to. He was honest, and committed to the Jewish people and the land of Israel. He knew a good thing when he saw it and wasn’t afraid to stand up for the truth. 

Divrei HaYamim I 2:19 tells us he was the father of Hur, making him the great-grandfather of Bezalel, the main artist behind the craftsmanship of the Mishkan. 

An entire study can be made of the different names and identities the Talmud and Midrashic literature ascribe to Kalev. Similarly, the Tanakh mentions his wife a few times, and the midrash says each wife (Azuvah, Efrat, etc) were all additional names for his wife Miriam, the sister of Moshe and Aharon. 

If it is true that all of these names really identify the same individuals, it is fascinating that the Tanakh would mention them. The commentaries like to explain that some of the names were given or taken on account of events that took place or the impact the individual had on the society. 

For example, Radak on Divrei HaYamim I 2:18 quotes the Yalkut Shimoni who explains that the person listed as Kalev son of Chetzron was the same Kalev that we know as the son of Yefuneh. He is listed as “ben Yefuneh” because “pinnah atzmo me’atzat meraglim” - he distanced himself from the negative report of the spies. The play on words linking “Yefuneh” to “pinnah” is the source of his name being listed differently. 

In this explanation, Yefuneh does not refer to his father, but to his own behavior and character. 

Kalev’s most admirable characteristic was his ability to not fall prey to the tide of “what everyone else was doing” because he knew his cause to be just. He never lost his positive outlook, he knew what his mission was, and he was a tremendous believer in God and in the cause of his mission. He understood intuitively that the Land of Canaan was the “promised land” for a reason. 

While Kalev is generally linked with Yehoshua as one of the pair of “spies” who stood up against the others, ultimately Kalev is the real hero of the story, because he was able to stand up for his convictions alone, against the mob. Only later was he joined by Yehoshua. 

Rashi quotes the midrash in 13:16 when he explains why Hoshea’s name was changed by Moshe to Yehoshua: so that his name would mean “God will save you” from the negativity of the spies. Netziv notes that Moshe’s prayer was more general than that - Moshe was praying for Yehoshua to be able to overcome the battle of his own convictions, as Moshe did not know which way the spies might swing. This comes in the aftermath of the challenge Yehoshua faced in not knowing the proper way to respond to the prophecies of Eldad and Meidad – Yehoshua wanted them to suffer a repercussion, while Moshe embraced their having been gifted prophesy. 

The reality is that after the spies gave their initial negative report, only Kalev reacted to say “Let us go up, for we can defeat them!” (13:30) Clearly Kalev did not experience a battle of conviction. Where was Yehoshua? Possibly contemplating which way to go. The others respond that there is no hope, for the land is self destructive and the inhabitants are giants. (13:31-33). 

The night passes, the nation cries, and in the morning they complain to Moshe and Aharon. Only after Yehoshua sees how distraught Moshe is, does he finally join Kalev’s side and claim the land is good. (14:6-7) 

God singles out Kalev in 14:24 to say only he will inherit the land, and in 14:30, God says only Kalev and Yehoshua will get to see the land, of all the people of this generation. (see also 26:65, 32:12) 

In Devarim 1:36 we see again that Kalev inherits part of the land because of his unique role, while Yehoshua goes unmentioned in that context. Two verses later (1:38) and later on (Devarim 3:28 and in chapter 31), we see the main reason Yehoshua has a role is because he replaces Moshe as leader, a role it seemed he would take on even before the spy incident, one of the possible outcomes of the prophesy of Eldad and Meidad. 

Ramban notes that Kalev and Yehoshua’s merits are listed separately, as outlined here, because they were very different people. Yehoshua, Ramban suggests, was much wiser than Kalev, which is why he is listed first in 14:38 – out of respect for his wisdom. But it is not always the wisest who is the bravest – which is why Kalev is singled out, without Yehoshua, for having a “different spirit about him.” (14:24) 

We live in a world which is stifling debates and conversations. Sometimes the mob is too overwhelming, and the information that is sent our way is too overpowering, that no different from the experience of the Bnei Yisrael, the ten overpowered the two, causing devastation to an entire generation. 

The people only learned how wrong the ten were when it was too late. 

But this is our challenge – to weed through the noise to get to the truth. We all know that Kalev, and ultimately alongside him, Yehoshua stood for the truth. Recall that the spies didn’t lie in their actual reports. Moshe had asked them to find information, and they mostly provided that information. But it was their analysis PLUS their slander of the land (it’s a land that consumes its inhabitants) which destroyed them and the people because they demonstrated a lack of faith in God, and a lack of belief that the land God had promised was a good one, and that He would never have led them astray or to a place not good for them. 

Kalev reminds us that standing for what is right, not folding to peer pressure, even when everyone is against you, is one of the greatest characteristics a person can have, when you stand for truth. 

There is an element of irony even in that, because God’s 13 attributes of Mercy are repeated by Moshe in his prayer on behalf of the people, but even in repeating them, Moshe leaves out some of them. One of the words absent in Moshe’s recall is אמת – truth. He didn’t ask God to utilize אמת in His judgment of the situation, because if God were to use “Truth” in His judgment, He would have had to destroy everyone involved in accepting the report. Instead, God chose to bide His time, have that generation die over a 40 year period, and give the land to the next generation, those who were not responsible for accepting the lies of the spies. 

The next generation were to inherit the land, led by Yehoshua, and one additional man from that original generation lived to inherit the land: Kalev, who stayed true to himself and did not let a mob of spies or a mob of the people get in the way of his relationship with God and אמת.

Moshe’s Humility Emerges in Multiple Ways

 Parshat B'haalotkha 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There are two times in our Parsha when Moshe Rabbenu’s authority is, in a way, directly challenged, specifically in the realm of prophesy. In both cases, what emerges more than anything is his humility. 

In the first, in the context of selecting the 70 elders, Eldad and Meidad emerge as two individuals with prophetic abilities, seemingly beyond that which the elders are gifted. 

Two notable distinctions – The Talmud (Sanhedrin 17a) tells us that unlike the other elders, whose prophetic careers ended soon after, Eldad’s and Meidad’s careers as prophets continued past this episode. The Medrash Tanchuma (22) notes four differences between Eldad and Meidad and the elders, the first being that the elders could only prophesy about the coming day, while Eldad and Meidad prophesied about what would take place in 40 years. 

It is a hallmark of Moshe’s humility that, as the Daat Mikra chumash explains it, he is welcoming of any higher stature any Israelite might achieve. He is so happy for Eldad and Meidad that they too are prophets. 

In the second case, Miriam engages her brother Aharon in a conversation that has two discussion points about Moshe. The first point addresses that Moshe had taken a Cushite woman as a wife, while the second point is a little more vague in the text in that Miriam asks two simple questions, “Is it to Moshe exclusively that God speaks? Doesn't He also speak to us?” 

What Miriam is referring to in both points are subject to debate. Does Moshe have a Cushite wife? Did Moshe once have a Cushite wife? Is the wife to which Miriam refers known better to us as Tziporah, the Midianite daughter of Yisro? If yes, then why is she called Cushite? On the second point – why does Miriam use the discussion of Moshe’s mate as an opening to discussing what makes him different as a prophet? 

Some suggest Miriam was looking at Moshe’s marital foibles, noting that Moshe was now living alone and therefore celibate when that behavior was not required of a prophet! (Midrash, Rashi). Others suggest that she wasn’t connecting the two complaints specifically, but asking about how Moshe could live with airs that make him above the law – taking whatever wife, lording his prophesying and therefore his status over others (Rashbam). 

To this last claim, the Torah’s immediate response is that while “God heard [this conversation] Moshe, however, was very humble, more so than any man on the face of the earth.” 

Surely Moshe’s response in both tales – being happy for Eldad and Meidad and not being even slightly hurt by their prophesying, and taking no initiative to respond to Miriam’s accusations – even while her words may have been hurtful and defamatory – demonstrate that he is way above pettiness. 

He is able to leave room for others to achieve greatness and doesn’t view anyone as a threat, and he knows who he is, and who his siblings are, and feels no ill will towards whatever they might say. 

What strikes me is the context in which Moshe’s humility is told to us – right after the comments made by Miriam about him. I am also struck by the connection made in the Midrash that Miriam heard Tzipporah speak aloud regarding Eldad and Meidad, "Praised are their sons but woe is to their wives because they will never see their husbands again. They will leave their wives just as my husband left me." The Midrash connects that statement to Miriam’s words, suggesting what she heard led her to speak to Aharon. 

But I like to think that the more blatant connection between the two tales is simply Moshe’s reaction to both. No reaction. Or a passive reaction. Or a happy reaction! And that is why his humility is emphasized in this context. 

Ramban notes that the phrase “and God heard” introduces the statement regarding Moshe’s humility because “Hashem was jealous for him on account of his humility. He would never respond to any provocation, even if he knew about it.” Ramban quotes the Sifrei who suggests Moshe knew about their conversation because they had it in his presence, but he controlled himself and did not respond – this is why God intervened on his behalf. 

What Miriam was specifically referring to doesn’t matter. And while I don’t like to suggest it was a trivial matter (because I prefer to think Miriam is not being petty), the fact is that Miriam may have been discussing with Aharon what the word on the street was. To her credit she spoke only to her brother, keeping the shmutz within the family, and presumable doing so because she felt that the best way to protect Moshe would be to try to address this issue internally. 

Rabbi Pinchas HaLevi Horowitz has a different insight, however, which also demonstrates why Moshe’s humility needed to be told to us in the context of his siblings’ conversation. 

Yehoshua had said regarding Eldad and Meldad “Adoni Moshe k’la’em” – my Master Moshe, Stop them/Imprison them/Destroy them (depending on how כלאם is translated). Miriam refers to her brother as Moshe. No superlative, no title. Just Moshe. 

Rabbi Horowitz notes that it is that lack of awareness of who her brother had become – which is often times very difficult for a sibling to discern! – that prevented her from speaking of her brother a. more respectfully, and b. more cautiously. 

Therefore, perhaps it can be suggested, that within the context of those least likely to see someone’s greatness, or in this case his hands-down-humility, that is where it needs to be emphasized. God said to them “How can you not be afraid to speak against My servant Moshe?” Rabbi Horowitz’s suggestion would be to add “You had no qualms about not even noting his greatness, his position, his title when you spoke of him.” 

From Moshe we learn to be happy for others’ successes. To not care about what others say about you – especially if your behavior is positively sanctioned by the Almighty.

From Miriam we learn to see people not as we think we know them, but as they are. To not rush to judge, to not reach conclusions without having done homework and due diligence, and to never put someone in a box because we believe we are familiar with the situation. Especially when it comes to family members, who we believe we know best, we must remember that they too are protected from our speaking Lashon Hora about them, and we ought to do what we can to address grievances and settle differences in a manner which is productive without falling prey to the trap that is Lashon Hora – even if we are merely keeping it within the family. 

“Remember what God did to Miriam, on the road, as you left Egypt.”

Who is IN and Who is OUT of the Camp of Israel

 Parshat Naso 

"When Should We Discriminate Against our Fellow Jews"

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In a short turn away from the narrative of the book of Bamidbar, we are given four sets of laws – that of those who are sent out of the camp, the rules of the Asham (guilt) offering, the rules of Sotah, and the rules of Nazir. 

 Perhaps what all of these have in common is that in the context of setting the Israelites up for travel, which is the general subject of Bamidbar chapters 1-4, a few ground-rules of travel need to be put in place, such as: where may people go, who is not allowed to enter certain spaces; what makes a person lose elements of taharah (purity) and elements of kedusha (holiness); what breaks up a marriage or – more positively – how can we preserve marriages when we are under duress of travel, general uncertainty, while living (figuratively) on top of each other without each family having a permanent home structure; and how can a person raise one’s level of holiness, including the drawbacks of a certain pursuit of asceticism. 

 The Midrash, and in its footsteps many commentaries, notes how the three types of people sent out of the camp is not meant to equate the three types of people, nor is their exclusion from the camp meant to be equal. The three types of people are the Metzora (one afflicted with tzara’as), the Zav (which includes a Zavah), and the person who has come in contact with a corpse. 

 Objectively speaking, these three have one thing in common – tumah (a spiritual impurity) – but otherwise have very little in common. The Metzora sinned, the Zav and Zavah may have sinned (though that is no one’s business because their tumah is a private consequence) but generally had an uncontrolled body emission, and the person who came in contact with a corpse was likely involved in a mitzvah! – whether of visiting someone who was sick and then passed away during the visit, or being involved in preparing the dead for burial or the actual burial itself. 

 This is why the Midrash and commentaries who address this indicate that the latter category (tameh la’met – having touched a corpse) is only prohibited from entering the Mishkan, but may even enter the Levite camp; the middle group (Zav etc.) may remain in the regular camp of Israel (may live at home, wander about the general population); the Metzora must be sent out of the camp, as per the instructions we have in Parshot Tazria and Metzora. 

 One could certainly look at the Metzora and claim that the person has a contagious disease and therefore it is actually important to send the person out of the camp. That claim is possible – tzara’as is a disease that appears in different contexts in the Bible, and in some cases it was a contagious disease. However, from the Torah’s perspective, leaving aside the tales in the books of Prophets of unique cases of tzara’as, the affliction is a spiritual disease with a physical manifestation. A sin (or bad behavior) caused it, and teshuvah (repentance) would cause it to go away. 

 What sins could cause this? The Midrash in Vayikra Rabba (16:1) and Mishlei (6:16) indicate that there are up to 13 behaviors or sins that could bring about tzara’as. This is based on the verse in Mishlei that says “There are six things that Hashem hates, and seven are an abomination of His soul.” There is a debate as to whether the number “Seven” in that verse means a seventh item, or seven additional items! If the latter, as the Midrash in Vayikra Rabba argues, there are 6+7=13 behaviors that God truly detests! 

 The verse in Mishlei goes on to list some of these: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that thinks violent thoughts, feet that hasten to run to evil, one who speaks lies with false testimony, causing quarrels among brothers. Ralba’g counts these as seven, suggesting that the first item is arrogance/haughtiness/looking down upon one’s fellow Jew – and that is the item God hates most of all. 

 The Midrash Mishlei goes on to list other sins a person might commit: idolatry, sexual immorality, murder, lashon hora, flattery, saying things without properly attributing them. [This last one is the topic of a much bigger discussion.] (The Gemara in Arakhin 16a has a list of seven sins which cause tzara’as: lashon hora (slander and gossip), murder, swearing in vain, immorality, haughtiness, theft, and stinginess. Obviously there is a crossover between the two lists presented by our Midrash Mishlei and the Talmud.)

 Using phrases from Yeshayahu chapter 3, the Midrash in Vayikra goes into painstaking details of what each of the first two sins listed in the verse in Mishlei have to do with reality, before giving other examples for the other sins. Suffice it to say, when one reads through the actual behaviors associated with haughty eyes, lying tongues, etc (two paragraphs up) one sees how all of these sins lead to a breakdown in society in which people, who are meant to live together in harmony, aim to get the upper hand on someone else, in order to control them. 

 This is why those guilty of sins to be punished with tzara’as are the ones who need to be sent out of the community until they’ve changed their ways. 

 But the other people – Zav and Tameh L’met – are not limited by their own behaviors. They are limited by the absence of taharah (purity), which is relatively easily rectified through a formal process of a brief wait and immersion in a mikveh. And even within their limitation, it is only in the realm of how far they may go into the realm of Kedushah – the holiness of the Levitical camp or into the Mishkan itself – which was their degree of confinement. If there were a synagogue or gathering place for prayer in the regular Israelite camp, they’d be welcome. 

In the general Jewish community, the structure of the institution we call “shul” or “synagogue” was put under duress over the last 15 months. Most shuls were closed through Pesach 2020, and there are many degrees of return to operations that have come about since that time – across all spectrums of Orthodox Judaism. Some opened completely back in April or May 2020, some remained closed even until recently, while others had a gradual process of starting outdoors, moving indoors, following recommended protocols of social distancing and masks. 

I often marvel over how the IDF actually analyzed their successes, but more importantly their failures after the Yom Kippur War. It is OK to say “We have made mistakes, but we want to learn from them.” I have yet to talk to a rabbinical colleague who isn’t challenged by “how to get our congregants back to shul.” Much of the challenges many Jewish communities are facing came from making their own short-term decisions that either turned people away or caused people to create their own alternatives, many of which will likely continue for the forseeable future. In many cases longer-term outcomes were not considered at all. 

 So what is the solution? Certainly making shul attractive and an exciting place to be through creative programming and educational opportunities is a start. But it also means putting no limitations on people and trusting people, including children. There is no precedent in halakha anywhere for assuming that healthy people are sick, or for excluding any “asymptomatic” person from any aspect of Jewish life. 

 Were we to follow the actual rules of the Torah regarding who is not even allowed entry into the community institutions, who is not welcome because the person needs to sit in isolation, the Torah couldn’t express it more clearly than in this Parsha. Only the people who would have gotten tzara’as need a cooling off period of teshuvah and reflection before rejoining the tzibbur. 

No one likes to look in the mirror. Were we to do so, many of our shuls would likely be empty this Shabbos and every Shabbos. But looking in the mirror also means asking, “Do I want one set of rules for me and another set of rules for someone else that are not based in the Torah?” As long as the answer is Yes, we are not where we need to be.

Halevai the Jewish community can get there through embracing every Jew and treating everyone equally, by no criteria other than the ones Torah and halakha truly advocate. Only when that sense of order is in place will we be worthy, as the Israelites were prior to the sins in next week’s parsha, to march to the Promised Land.

That They Shall Live and Not Die

Parshat Bamidbar 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

(Raising many more question than are answered...)

 The job of the Bnei K’hat (the Levite family descended from Kehat) was to carry the vessels of the Mishkan when it was time to pack up and travel to the next destination in wilderness travels. The Kohen branch of the family – Aharon and his sons - would cover the vessels in order to protect their cousins, the Kehat-family Levites. “Do not cause the Kehothites to become extinct among the Levites. This is what you must do so that they survive, and not die when they come into the Holy of Holies. Aaron and his sons shall first come and arrange each thing so that every [Kehothite] can perform his service, carrying his load. They will not come and see the sacred [furniture] being packed and they will not die.” (4:18-20) 

Targum Yonatan translates verse 19 “This is a decree which is made for them so they should live their lives of righteousness and not die in the fire of destruction. They should turn their eyes from the Holy of Holies at the time they come close to there; Aharon and his sons will come, they’ll be appointed, each man for his particular job.” 

It is clear from this statement about Aharon’s two sons that the tragic outcome that befell their brothers, Nadav and Avihu, hangs very heavily over their existence. In the beginning of chapter 3 of our parsha, Nadav and Avihu are remembered as Aharon’s sons, who died bringing a strange fire before God, and who also did not have sons. Recalling them in that way seems rather redundant as their deaths – having taken place around a month before the events of our parsha – would seem to be rather etched in the memory of the people! 

And what does Targum Yonatan mean when he says “they should live their lives of righteousness?” Is he implying that Nadav and Avihu did not live lives of righteousness? Or is he perhaps implying that Nadav and Avihu did live lives of righteousness, but they also died in a fire of destruction for other reasons? It seems that an ingredient for the survival of Elazar and Itamar is to avert eyes from the Holy of Holies, something Nadav and Avihu presumably did not do when they brought their strange fire into the Holy of Holies. 

Oddly, Or HaChaim’s comment on the words “and they shall live and not die” (verse 19) is that “when they engage with the Ark, which contains the Torah which is the source of life, they will have lengthened days (usually referred to as “long life”), and yet over the concern for the damage which can come from touching and looking at [the Ark], He said ‘and they shall not die.’” 

Which is it? Is it the source of life or is it dangerous? For King David, for example, מה אהבתי תורתך כל היום היא שיחתי – “how much do I love Your Torah. It is my conversation all day long.” (Tehillim 119:97) For Uzzah, “and Uzzah put forth [his hand] to the ark of God, and grasped hold of it, for the oxen swayed it. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzzah; and God struck him down there for his error; and there he died by the ark of God.” (Shmuel II 6:6-7) We say in davening regarding the Torah and Mitzvos כי הם חיינו וארך ימינו – they are our lives and [the source of] our lengthened days. 

That’s how so many things in life are. The swimming pool is great for exercise or for rehab, but it can be a dangerous place for the person (or child רחמנא לצלן) who falls in not knowing how to swim. A food which is healthy for one person can be a source of anaphylaxis to someone with an allergy. A medication that works for one person can be dangerous to another. Many thousands of people are killed in motor vehicle accidents each year, while many are never in a car accident in their entire lives! 

As we watch what is going on in Israel, and as we pray for the soldiers, the people and for the country, we can also note that some soldiers see much combat and are never injured, while some get injured, and some lose their lives in the battlefield. 

The trauma of losing Nadav and Avihu was so great, added to the trauma that Elazar and Itamar were also supposed to die had it not been for Moshe’s prayers (see Rashi on Vayikra 10:12), that the Torah goes to great lengths and great pains to make us be sure that whatever errors took place would not be repeated, and that life could be preserved in the best way possible. 

But what were the errors? We are learning here from Targum Yonatan that Elazar and Itamar were righteous! There are plenty of discussions surrounding Nadav and Avihu which indicate they too were righteous, and that perhaps their death was not as much a punishment as much as a fait accompli, part of God’s Master Plan. Abrabanel says about Uzzah that he was a tzaddik (very righteous!) and that his death is associated “with the Ark of God” because he was elevated through his death, since his action in preventing the Ark from falling was an “accidental” affront. [That story needs much more attention than this space allows] 

This is not to suggest that death is something that we like. When a loved one or a friend passes away we miss the person terribly. Had we had the opportunity, knowing what we know, every one of us would have tried to stop Nadav and Avihu from bringing that strange fire. Would they have died anyway? We don’t know. Certainly we would have told the Bnei Kehat that their patience in waiting for Aharon’s family to cover the Mishkan vessels was worth every minute – because we understand that we certainly want to do what we can to assure their doing their job properly without incident. If we had been present, we’d have told Uzzah to stay back. The concern of the Ark falling is a role designated only for the Levites and Kohanim. 

Which all leads us to the question of the hour – how are we to understand that the Torah, known as the עץ חיים היא למחזיקים בה (It is a tree of life for those who grasp it) (Mishlei 3:18), a source of life, can even have such a contradictory notion that it can be a source of death? 

Like everything, it depends on how it is used. It depends on how people take its instruction! Do people create a life of extremes or a life of moderation? Do people view themselves as holier than thou and become judgmental and intolerant or do they take the lessons from Torah and live lives of humility? Do people coast with the knowledge they have or are they growing in Torah? 

There are several interpretations of what that tree in that verse is, and how we are to understand that it is a tree of life for those who grasp hold, which implies that it is not so for those who let go. 

This is not to suggest what causes people to live or die. In many ways that is in God’s hands, though humans can certainly (and tragically) be the source of much suffering and death in the world. 

Suffice it to say, the life of the עץ חיים is a spiritual life, held onto most strongly, and filled with the most meaning by those who cling to the Torah. As we read through the last chapter of Avos this Shabbos, and as we embark on the holiday of Shavuos, let us be reminded that the life of Torah that we live has its rewards, in some ways, in our lives in this world, but are even moreso invested in what the life of the next world has in store for us. This is a theme that comes up throughout Pirkei Avos, and is one of the more reasonable explanations for what suffering in this world is about. We are on a path to cleansing ourselves, readying ourselves for the world to come. Some of us are gifted a much longer journey through this world, and for some people the time here is far too short. 

In some way, for everyone, it fits into God’s Master Plan. May we be blessed to navigate the trauma of our losses with the clarity that those who are gone are in the next stage of their soul’s journey. Our job is to keep their legacy here alive. But our job is also to understand that when their job on this world is over, their souls have finally been given the chance to reach the place they were aiming for throughout their lifetimes. And that should be a tremendous source of comfort.