Ambivalence, Belligerence? Reflections on the Outcomes of Sin

Parshat Sh'lach 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There are two incidents in the Torah in which a person sins and is ultimately stoned to death by the population. The first was in Parshas Emor, when the son of the Shlomit bas Divri (and an Egyptian man) cursed God’s name. The second is towards the end of Parshas Sh’lach, when the wood gatherer is stoned for violating the laws of Shabbos. [It is quite interesting that two verses before we are told the story of the wood-gatherer, the Torah references a person who is מגדף (blasphemes) Hashem. And two verses before the tale of the blasphemer there is instruction about how to set up the Shulchan (Table) in the Mishkan – ביום השבת ביום השבת.] 

There is a distinction in the way the stonings are presented to us - in Emor we are told וירגמו אותו אבן, that people stoned the man with a single stone (or at least a stone presented in a singular language) while in Sh’lach it says וירגמו אותו באבנים, that the people stoned the man with stones. 

 Why the difference from אבן to אבנים - singular to plural? 

When he was a child, not-yet-rabbi Meir Shapiro shared the following insight. There is a view presented in the Midrash (as recorded by Tosafos Baba Basra 119) that the wood gatherer did what he did for the sake of heaven. In other words, after the sin of the spies some people gave up hope and felt there was no reason to continue to observe mitzvos. He went ahead and sacrificed himself to demonstrate that the Torah was still applicable. 

Of course such a notion should be radically disturbing. No one has a right to give up his life simply to prove that the Torah’s law and justice system is in force. 

Young Meir Shapiro noted the dichotomy and how some may have felt very differently about the situation. Some may have felt the wood-gatherer was a sinner (whether his intentions were honorable is irrelevant as his decision was still wrong) and put that note of concentration into their stoning role. Others may have felt conflicted, accepting his sacrifice for the positive intent he had, and also feeling terribly that they had to participate in his execution, doing so only because God had commanded such. 

The אבנים therefore indicate multiple thought processes behind the people participating in the stoning. 

In the case of the blasphemer, everyone was of the same mind as to the nature and degree of the crime and were all, therefore, as one in stoning with a single thought process as represented by the singular אבן.

There are other explanations as well. Chizkuni notes that in the blasphemer’s case it may have only taken one stone! And Sifrei notes regarding the wood gatherer that if one stone doesn’t do the job, more stones are to be used.

Another view, presented by Meshekh Hokhma (R Meir Simcha of Dvinsk) suggests that the wood gatherer needed to be buried where he was executed, therefore many stones were used to not only do the deed but become the markers of his grave. In the case of the blasphemer, a different process needed to be followed insofar as to how his burial was to be conducted, so only one stone, presumably a much larger stone, could be used to fulfill God’s instruction. 

 While the first insight, ultimately, is that of a child (albeit a prodigy!) and may not be the best explanation for the discrepancy in terminology, it is nevertheless quite insightful as to how human psychology tends to work. 

 Sometimes we are quite sure of what is a proper path forward, and we do it with gusto. We don’t hesitate, we know it’s right, we are confident in an outcome and we forge ahead. 

 And sometimes we proceed with caution. We are not exactly sure. Something doesn’t smell right. 

 There is, of course, a significant distinction to be made between when God tells us to do something we don’t like versus if a human tells us to do something we are unsure of, or we don’t want to do. 

 What young Meir Shapiro was positing is that God’s rule may trump one’s considerations in the realm of practice, but even some things can’t overtake our mind, such as the distaste we may feel at needing to take someone’s life.

By extension we can certainly say if a person who is an unproven prophet or who doesn’t even claim prophesy but claims to know exactly what God wants dictates a path forward that may not sound right or is coming from a place that is not clearly to our benefit, we ought to tread carefully.

But even more importantly, it is totally normal for people to have different mindsets about any kind of instruction! Could it be that some people were happy to stone the wood-gatherer? Yes. Could it be some people were uncomfortable with it? Surely that can be true too. 

 We have a responsibility to realize that not every trend works for everyone. That is supposed to be OK, as people have different backgrounds, different histories, different bodies, different physical needs, different stories. 

 For a people who are well aware of the dangers and destructiveness of Sinas Chinam (baseless hatred), as well as the need to give others the benefit of the doubt (דן לכף זכות) we must be able to realize that the beauty of humanity and the beauty of the Jewish people is accepting each person through very simple criteria: if a non-Jew, the person’s basic decency, if a Jew, the fact that the person is a Jew (who is supposed to also have basic decency). We may have differences, there are things we may not prefer about another person. But our intolerance (if we have such a character) is more a reflection of us than a reflection of the person we don’t find agreeable. 

 Thankfully we are not faced with the challenge of executing people (though if we engage in character assassination, we are guilty of just that!), but we are faced with the challenge of finding a space for people who don’t fit into what we may view as the perfect box.

 Should the blasphemer and wood-gatherer have had a different outcome? That was God’s call after the fact – we may have judged them differently, but that wasn’t our call no matter how we splice it. But one wonders if they hadn’t felt socially ostracized in whatever way, would they have engaged in their errant behavior in the first place?

There is a very real possibility that they would not have done what they did. So who is more at fault? Them, or the people who isolated or marginalized them, causing them to be in such a bad head space that they committed their respective capital crimes? Every person is partly a product of one’s environment. Let us do our part to create the environment in which all feel welcome.

Lashon Hora... or Haughtiness?

A short thought on B'haaloskha

One of the most famous lines describing Moshe Rabbenu is והאיש משה עניו מאד מכל האדם אשר על פני האדמה. “And the man Moshe was exceedingly humble, more than all humans on the face of the earth.” This depiction comes immediately after Miriam’s one-and-a-half pasuk long discussion about him. Granted, the first verse (12:1) intimates that there was a longer conversation than presented about the Cushite woman (see what R Chaim HaQoton says about this) Moshe had taken (see here and here), but the second verse seems fairly harmless (“Does God only speak with Moshe, doesn’t He also speak with us?”) 

 We tend to think that Miriam got tzara’as because she spoke Lashon Hora. But the Talmud tells us tzara’as can come for lashon hora, murder, swearing in vain, immorality, haughtiness, theft and stinginess. (Arakhin 16a) Perhaps the real crime here was haughtiness, because the verse describing Moshe’s humility seems to stand in full contrast to whatever was being presented about him. It is obvious that when someone says “Who does he think he is? I’m just as good as he is!” that the speaker is a little too into one’s own ego and that certain God-given talents or success the speaker may possess have gotten to his head. If Moshe was exceedingly humble, it means that he never lorded over anyone about his successes and accomplishments. Because humility simply means never making a big deal about what you do and what you’ve achieved – just do what you have to do, even be the best at it, but remember that all success and failure is in God’s hands.

Where Idleness Fits in the Service of God

Parshat B'haalotkha

by Rabbi Avi Billet

While certainly no one had in mind the Bankruptcy Code when chapter divisions were made in the Torah, nevertheless the fact that Chapter 11 of Bamidbar is a time of turmoil and reorganization is certainly coincidental to the most famous “Chapter” in the United States, and therefore an easy way to remember where the events of this chapter in the Torah can be found. 

 When one studies chapters 11-20, which include a number of negative episodes and unfortunate tales, one notices that the people of Israel are referred to in different ways, suggesting that the Torah is hinting to much which lies beneath the surface of the text in all of the narratives (and beyond) that span the next few parshas. This designation is certainly lost upon those who rely on a translation alone, which would likely not make a huge (certainly not noticeable) distinction between such words as העם, בני ישראל, קהל, קהל ה'. All of these words or terms refer to the nation, or a subset/group from the nation, in one form or another. 

Even for those who notice, for example, the use of העם versus בני ישראל, the reality is that there is inconsistency in the inconsistency, in that sometimes העם refers to a certain group from the nation, and sometimes the same word does in fact refer to the entire nation. 

 To note one example: In the first verse of chapter 11, we are told ויהי העם כמתאננים רע באזני ה'. העם (clearly not the entire nation) is “like complainers, bad in God’s ears.” (11:1) God then hears this (וישמע ה'), and sends a fire which consumes what seems to be a smaller group. Then העם (obviously a different group than those who were consumed by a fire) cries out and Moshe prays for this fire to subside. (11:2) There are, of course, different opinions as to the identity of these complainers, whom we should perhaps call “almost-complainers.” 

 What follows is another group of people who crave meat, amongst other foods they remember from Egypt, and their complaints cause “בני ישראל” to participate in the longing for meat. (11:4) 

Rabbi Yosef Zvi Heller explained the opening complaint, with its distinction between העם and the group from the second story (בני ישראל) indicating that those in the first group were simpletons (this view obviously does not align with Rashi who argues they were leaders, possibly even the 70 elders) who were used to engaging in physical labor, quite unused to having their food and needs provided for them, while not being required to work at all, leaving only the study of Torah as their main pursuit. 

 At the same time, they couldn’t really complain of their lot, because certainly their circumstance was much better than being slaves to Egypt. Thus, Rabbi Heller argues, their complaints weren’t aloud, they were rather in their hearts, which allowed them to reach God’s “ears” and for only God to “hear” them. So they were like complainers but not actual complainers. 

 Were they in such a horrible position? Clearly the idea of being idle was unsuitable for some people. Which begs a different question of how the Bnei Yisrael occupied their time in the wilderness? Were they simply supposed to study Torah all the time? Were they like nomadic Bedouins, living from the land, managing to eke out an existence and life in the wilderness, aimed at raising their children in such a situation? Were they learning how to live and function in a real world, as non-slaves? Did they have military training? All of these are actually touched upon by Rav Kasher in his Torah Shleimah on the verses describing what the people learned (or began learning) in Marah (Shmos chapter 15, footnote 270) which certainly makes for an interesting read. But in light of Rabbi Heller’s insight, the following tale could at least help us explain the problem in this particular case of the would be complainers. 

Rabbi Yitzchak Elchanan Spektor (whose name adorns the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary of Yeshiva University) was the head of the Bet Din in Kovno. One time when he was walking home from shul with his assistant, he saw two Jewish day laborers who were idling the time, hoping to be hired for work for the day. The rabbi heard them saying, “The rabbi has it so easy. He sits at home all day and doesn’t need to find work daily like we do!” 

When he got home Rav Yitzchak Elchanan called them to his home and asked them what they get paid each day for their labors. They told him their income was a ruble a day. He offered them the following: Would you accept it if I gave you a ruble and a half each day, in exchange for your sitting in shul all day, comfortably reading Tehillim, so you shouldn’t have to work so hard? 

 They said YES! After the first day was over, they each came and collected the 1.5 rubles. The next day, they went to shul as before, but weren’t as excited about it, because they were used to working and not sitting idly. At the end of the second day, when they came to collect their “pay” they told Rav Yitzchak Elchanan that they weren’t coming back the next day as they needed to work. They knew being idle, even through the holy activity of reading Tehillim all day, was not for them. 

 Rav Yitzchak Elchanan then challenged them, “Why, then, did you say that I have it so good in that I sit all day at home… and you don’t want the same thing for yourselves?” 

 Their lack of response indicated they didn’t have a good answer. And while he didn’t spell out to them how his involvement in the community, and the role he played was significant, his point to them was that their actions essentially mimicked what was taking place in the opening tale of Chapter 11. Those who left Egypt were simple people who were used to putting in a day’s labor – even if it was slavery – and were most unused to the idleness that came along with becoming experts in Torah law that was a significant portion of their lives now, in what was slated to be a short trek to the Promised Land (this changes in Parshat Shlach when the spies incident causes them to languish in the wilderness for a sum of 40 years). [Story recorded in Otzar Chaim of R Chaim Yaakov Zuckerman] 

The people were “like” complainers because they were unused to the life that seems to have been thrust upon them, a life for which many of them may have felt unsuited. 

 This is a challenge that any person faces when there is a lull in one’s usual routine. For children who are in school, the break between school and summer plans can be one in which idleness and boredom create unproductive days. For those who graduate school and don’t have plans for whatever is next, that idleness and lack of direction can be an extremely frustrating time period. People who leave one job (or who are let go) without another job lined up can suffer very serious mental and emotional setbacks that may come from the idleness or lack of direction. And people who retire without a plan for how to occupy each day may also suffer from this same idleness-syndrome.

 Some people fill their lives with activities, with volunteering, with part time work, with auditing classes at universities, with attending library activities, physical activity in various sports, and of course – in what should be an ideal for all of us – the study of Torah and further pursuit of a relationship with Hashem as afforded to us in our shul community and through whatever opportunities we find or create for ourselves. 

 While there is certainly merit to taking it easy, relaxing, lounging about, there is a time and place for everything. And there should also be a limit on how much we remain idle. While certainly great ideas can be born out of idleness, Lashon Hora is an unfortunate product of too much idleness as well (also a topic of our Parsha – with Miriam speaking of Moshe to their brother Aharon). So a balance must always exist between leisure and keeping active and busy. 

 May we always find a proper balance between idleness and productive activities so that we feel fulfilled each day, knowing we’ve accomplished good things, have grown as people, and have grown in our relationships with family, friends, and of course, with the Almighty Himself.

The Nazir and Moshe's Awareness of the Future

Parshat Naso 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

Parshas Naso is addressed by the Midrash Rabba more than any other Parsha in the Book of Bamidbar, and likely more than any other parsha in the other the Torah other than Parshas Bereishis. 

 Surprisingly, the most repetitive portion of the Torah, the 12 presentations of gifts and offerings of the princes, has so much Midrashic commentary, one could read through the Midrash Rabba for hours and still not get through all of what it has to say on these repeated 6 verses, while at the same time the reader would discover so much about each tribe, each prince, as well as what it means to dedicate to the Mishkan and to donate things towards the service of God. 

 Before it gets there, however, the Midrash does go through the other portions of the parsha as well, and not surprisingly, when it comes to the portion of the Nazir it jumps to the tale of Shimshon, arguably the most famous Nazir, whose tale also happens to be the Haftorah for the parsha. 

 Through the lens of the Midrash we learn a few things about Shimshon’s family, such as that his mother was on a higher level than his father (and thus had an angel appear to her twice), that his parents would get into arguments as to which of them was infertile (she was the infertile one, as the angel clarifies for them), that Manoach’s father was from the tribe of Dan but his mother was from the tribe of Yehuda (note that both Dan and Yehuda are, in the different blessings given to them by Yaakov and Moshe, referred to as גור אריה), and Shimshon’s mother (Manoach’s wife) was also from the tribe of Yehuda. This gives Shimshon much “Danite blood” and much “Judean blood.” Shimshon’s mother was named הצללפוני based on the idea that an angel (צלל) would turn (פונ) to her. 

The name Manoach (מנוח) is even assigned to his father in the text based on the idea that the concept of receiving prophesy is an experience called מנוחה, indicating it may not be his real name, but more a reflection of his role in this story. 

 There is further discussion about how they were unaware that the angel who appeared to them was an angel, as the Midrash suggests prophets during their time would often appear angel-like and would bring an aura about them that would render people awestruck, leading them to think he was a prophet. 

Shimshon’s mother was told that in his being a Nazir from birth ומורה לא יעלה על ראשו, that a razor should never go on his head, to cut his hair. The Midrash asks why the word מורה is used for a razor? “Because מורה means ‘fear,’ and there is nothing the hair ‘fears’ more than a razor which will destroy the roots of the hair.” Even more than that, however, in Shimshon’s case, “God knew very well that Shimshon would be following his eyes, and thus the Nazir was further warned against drinking wine, because wine leads to licentiousness. It would be bad enough if the Nazir (e.g. Shimshon) were to be enticed by what his eyes saw! Were he to also drink wine, he’d have no hope whatsoever.” 

Perhaps this is another reason for the longer hair, as it would be a constant reminder that “You are a Nazir and prohibited from certain indulgences.” 

As a Nazir from conception, he was on the same level of Yirmiyahu the prophet, about whom God said, “Before you were even created in the womb I knew you” meaning that the relationship between prophet and God, or in Shimshon’s case between Shofet (judge) and God was ordained well before his birth. 

 It is certainly worthy of discussion as to whether the Nazir was a more popular or less popular mode of personal practice. It is also worthy of note that the Midrash suggests that all of what happens in the rest of the Bible (Neviim and Ketuvim) was known to Moshe and therefore hinted to in the Torah.

 את מוצא שרמז משה בפ' זו לנזירות שמשון ללמדך שאין לך דבר כתוב בנביאים וכתובים שלא רמזו משה בתורה

That line itself opens up the Midrash to everything that we subsequently find in Midrash and in all of commentary. How often does Midrash use verses from the Torah to prove certain ideas in later works of Tanakh? (Hint: ALL THE TIME) 

The Torah is a fascinating work that spans time and space. It crosses over and through generations to speak of events that no human could have conceived of without Divine assistance. There are Midrashim that speak of where Haman and Esther and Mordechai are spoken of in the Torah! This is just a small microcosm of this macro issue of God’s hand throughout recorded Biblical history, which includes an awareness of the future. 

 Were there many Nezirim? There are a few notable ones in the texts of Navi, such as Shimshon, Shmuel, Avshalom. It is hard to know for sure how prevalent this undertaking was in Biblical times and post Biblical times, despite there being a Mesechta in the Talmud dedicated to the subject. 

Our takeaway is to appreciate the breadth of knowledge the Midrash imparts to us, as well as the challenge it presents to us in our expanding our own knowledge base to become more familiar with knowing the context of all of its cross references and its attempts to connect different narratives and texts with passages elsewhere. 

 In particular the narrative referenced at the beginning of this essay, the six verses repeated almost verbatim for each tribal Prince has so much in the Midrash indicating there is much more beneath the surface of something than what seems. It is another reminder that taking things at face value alone and not scratching past the surface is an inadequate way to study the Torah. 

May we be blessed to challenge ourselves to greater heights through our growth in Torah.

Nasso in Bamidbar? The Story of Bnei Kehas, the Guardians of the Torah

Parshat B'midbar 

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

While next week’s parsha is familiarly known as Naso, the seventh Aliyah in Bamidbar begins (at chapter 4) with the following words: ב נָשׂ֗א אֶת־רֹאשׁ֙ בְּנֵ֣י קְהָ֔ת מִתּ֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י לֵוִ֑י לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתָ֖ם לְבֵ֥ית אֲבֹתָֽם: 

Naso? If the parsha had to be called Naso, then why don’t we start next week’s reading here at Shvii? Describe all the jobs of the Levite families in one parsha! Why divide it over two separate readings? Also, why is Kehas mentioned first? After all, the Torah pretty clearly puts a priority on firstborns and we have been told over and over that the sons of Levi were Gershon, Kehas and Merari! Clearly Gershon is the oldest. And yet Kehas come first! 

 Midrash Aggadah answers this question saying “Bnei Kehas are first because they carry the vessels of the Mishkan, such as the Aron, the Shulchan, the Menorah, etc.” 

The truth is that the Torah does this often enough, not presenting siblings in age order. Yefet was Noach’s eldest son, and Cham was his youngest, but they are usually listed as Shem, Cham, Yefet. Moshe was younger than Aharon, yet he is often mentioned before Aharon. (Sometimes Aharon is mentioned before Moshe – which often gets an interesting explanation). 

 Ibn Ezra suggests the Bnei Kehas are mentioned first on account of the merit of Moshe and Aharon, who were of the Bnei Kehas. 

 According to Alshikh, in general the word Nasso (נשא) is used over the word שאו because it’s not merely a counting – it’s an elevating for Kedusha. 

 One way in which Kehas is singled out as being on a higher level than the Gershon and Merari families is through the way they are presented (note the Pasuk numbers!). 

 (ב) נָשֹׂ֗א אֶת־רֹאשׁ֙ בְּנֵ֣י קְהָ֔ת מִתּ֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י לֵוִ֑י לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתָ֖ם לְבֵ֥ית אֲבֹתָֽם:

 (כב) נָשֹׂ֗א אֶת־רֹ֛אשׁ בְּנֵ֥י גֵרְשׁ֖וֹן גַּם־הֵ֑ם לְבֵ֥ית אֲבֹתָ֖ם לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתָֽם: 

 It is true that regarding both the Bnei Kehas and Bnei Gershon Moshe is instructed to “Naso” the heads of the greater family. But notice how the order is switched. In Kehas, their Mishpachos (families) are counted before the Beis Avos (being from the tribe of Levi). In other words, this insight concurs with the approach of Ibn Ezra that the family of Kehas is elevated, first and foremost, on account of Moshe and Aharon. 

 Another proof to the higher level of the Bnei Kehas is how they are introduced.

(א) וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר יְקֹוָ֔ק אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה וְאֶֽל־אַהֲרֹ֖ן לֵאמֹֽר: 

(כא) וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְקֹוָ֖ק אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר: 

 Aharon’s inclusion showcases the fact that the Bnei Kehas were unique among the families of Levi in that they also had Kohanim and the Kingship of that time, which was Moshe Rabbenu. 

 Another important point to note is that their Avodah overall did not require a whole lot of actual labor. The Talmud tells us Sotah 35b that the Aron carried those who carried it. It was weightless and those who carried it were only symbolic, to hide the fact that the Ark carried itself. 

 Which is why the way the work of Bnei Kehas is presented as מלאכה

 כָּל־בָּא֙ לַצָּבָ֔א לַעֲשׂ֥וֹת מְלָאכָ֖ה בְּאֹ֥הֶל מוֹעֵֽד: 

 While the work of Bnei gershon is presented as עבודה

 כָּל־הַבָּא֨ לִצְבֹ֣א צָבָ֔א לַעֲבֹ֥ד עֲבֹדָ֖ה בְּאֹ֥הֶל מוֹעֵֽד: 

 One final notification of the work of the Bnei Kehas is that it is very holy in nature 

 (ד) זֹ֛את עֲבֹדַ֥ת בְּנֵי־קְהָ֖ת בְּאֹ֣הֶל מוֹעֵ֑ד קֹ֖דֶשׁ הַקֳּדָשִֽׁים: 

 This distinction demonstrates what the job of the Bnei Kehas is, and what level it raises their status to be in their service in carrying parts of the Mishkan. 

 The Or HaChaim notes one more textual distinction which raises Bnei Kehas above the others, and that is (ב) נָשֹׂ֗א אֶת־רֹאשׁ֙ בְּנֵ֣י קְהָ֔ת מִתּ֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י לֵוִ֑י לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתָ֖ם לְבֵ֥ית אֲבֹתָֽם: 

 Mitokh means “from the middle of.” Kehas was not the oldest of the sons of Levi. Gershon was the oldest son, and Kehas was the middle, with Merari being the youngest. 

 Going back to our opening question - Why have Bnei Kehas in this parsha, with their own Naso, and the Bnei Gershon as the openers of next week’s parsha, with their own Naso - this is the Torah’s way of actually giving both families a certain kind of kavod. 

 Not too many people typically notice or remember that the family of Kehas is introduced with the word Naso in our parsha. And yet when the Levite families are mentioned next week, it is easily noticed that Kehas is not there, prompting us to look back and see that Kehas was mentioned in Parshas Bamidbar. 

 What happens as a result is this: Kehas is given special prominence as the Levite branch most directly associated with the major switch of the Levites replacing the first borns, a significant focus of today’s Torah reading. 

 Gershon, in leading off the parsha next week, is given the respect accorded to a first born. Merari being the youngest of the 3 brothers, does not mind being last no matter what. 

 So what can we learn from the role of the Bnei Kehas?

“The Lord said to Moshe and Aharon, saying, ‘Do not cut off the tribe of families of Kehas from the rest of the Levites. In order to assure their survival, when they approach the Holy of Holies, let Aharon and his sons come and direct each person to his specific task. They [the Levites] should not come to see the Holy being closed up lest they die.’” 

 There is nothing particularly deep about the job described here. The holiest vessels require the utmost care, and as non-Priests may not enter the Holy of Holies when the Mishkan is assembled, a Levite entry, or any unacceptable entry, could carry a death punishment, as we saw in the tragic tale of Nadav and Avihu. The entry of the kohanim alone is permitted to allow them to make sure their cousins the Levites do their jobs in the way which will preserve their lives. 

Of course, the kohanim and the Bnei Kehas are first and second cousins, much closer than the Bnei Kehas are to the Bnei Gershon, whose cousinship goes back 4 or 5 generations. The Kohanim are meant to protect the Bnei Kehas. But the Bnei Kehas in carrying, protecting and preserving the most important vessels of the Mishkan, are really protecting the fate of the Bnei Yisrael. 

 While there are Leviim in our time, their role in our society as Leviim is mostly to be second tier to the Kohanim. Unlike in ancient times, they are not automatically the teachers and the leaders. 

 In our time, Jewish leaders come in all shapes and sizes. None are divinely ordained. We all start off as ordinary people, and many of us use our God-given talents to become scholars or philanthropists or teachers or community-leaders or directors of chesed initiatives and good deeds. 

 Like the Kohanim who protected the Bnei Kehas through covering the vessels of the Mishkan, we must take that responsibility as well, when we can and within reason of course, to guide others, to preserve others, while all personally assuming our own need to serve God and to protect His Torah and His holiest creations. 

 Beyond Torah, we can certainly argue that the holiest creations we see on a daily basis are our fellow Jews, and their neshamas. Neshamas include those of the living and those of the deceased. And so, in channeling the responsibilities assumed by the Bnei Kehas, we too must be guardians of the Torah. We can demonstrate this through the opportunities we embrace to participate in Torah learning, certainly on Shavuos, and throughout the year as well.