Parshat B'ha'aloskha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
One of the disturbing episodes in the parsha concerns the people who are complaining about the manna, complaining about a lack of meat, as they remember the fish and the wonderful fruits and vegetables (cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic) they enjoyed in Egypt. Now, it is one thing to complain. It is an entirely other thing to whine and kick and scream, crying hunger, when hunger was not the problem. After all, while they may have been tired of it, the manna was bread from heaven that was the key reason why the people were able to survive for 40 years in the wilderness, beyond the simple grace of God.
Aside from the disturbing perspective we can have regarding their complaint, Moshe’s reaction seems so out of character, we begin to wonder if he has snapped.
Moshe says to God, “Why have you been bad to Your servant, and why have I not found favor in Your eyes, that You put the burden of this people upon me? Did I conceive this nation, did I give birth to it, that you expect me to carry it as a nursing mother carries its babe? From where am I to find meat for everyone, as they cry out to me for meat? I can’t carry this nation by myself! If this is what You are going to do to me, then kill me now, lest I see the evil that befalls me.” (11:11-15)
I won’t jump so far to say that Moshe was suicidal – were that the case, this might have ended differently – but there is strong evidence from the things he says here that he was ready to give everything up and not continue in his role as leader, simply on account of the complaints of the people. (We'll note, he asked God to kill him, and made no mention of possibly achieving such an end through his own hand) They are not far from having left Sinai. This episode is still very early in Moshe’s tenure, certainly before the incident of the spies, which would fate the people to perish in the wilderness. Is Moshe really willing to check out so soon?
There are a number of components to Moshe’s complaint. Let’s focus our attention on two of them: A. Moshe complains that he hasn’t found favor in God’s eyes. B. He wonders if he is to carry the nation by himself, without help.
Some of the commentaries (Ibn Ezra, Seforno, etc.) claim that Moshe is referencing how he has not found favor in God’s eyes since the burning bush, when he asked for God to send someone else to be the Redeemer. It is hard to reconcile this claim, considering all the good that has been bestowed upon him. Could Moshe be exaggerating?
What is amazing is that while God responds to most of Moshe’s concerns in the section which follows – Seventy elders (you won’t be alone), they’ll have meat (and fish, if necessary) – He does not refute or respond to Moshe’s claim of not having found favor in God’s eyes. Through Moshe’s demonstration of despair, and without a real response from God, there are important lessons to be taken from how Moshe pulls through this seeming moment of Depression, which even leads him to want to die.
Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik noted that Moshe’s discovery here was that he had to be the nursing father to the people, in addition to the role of teacher, which he had embraced and begun to fine tune ever since emerging from the mountain.
And so, perhaps there are two important take-home lessons that the Torah teaches us through saying nothing.
Firstly, a person must have a sense of purpose. When Moshe realized his role as teacher was no longer “the” challenge of his life, and he was able to embrace his new role as nursing father, it looks like it became a new lease on life. And in all of Moshe’s challenges in the coming Torah portions, how many parents can look at Moshe’s relationship with the people and relate heavily to his exasperations? “Stop complaining! You have all you need! Stop asking for things which you ‘want’ but are unnecessary to your survival! There are children starving in Africa!”
Moshe’s seeming Depression is a harder answer. One can’t simply tell someone with Depression to “get over it.” But people with Depression can be encouraged to find the strength within themselves to find the help they need.
Maybe God ignored Moshe because He knew that Moshe had that strength, and that Moshe just needed his other concerns to be addressed, and that once he saw he was not alone and that the people could be provided for irrespective of his role, he no longer wished to die.
May those who suffer from such feelings of inadequacies be blessed to find comfort in the friends and loved ones they have. May all of us be blessed to find a sense of purpose for our existence, so every day can be embraced for the challenges and blessings that it lays before us.
Showing posts with label B'haalotkha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label B'haalotkha. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Friday, June 6, 2014
When It's Cloudy
Parshat B'haalotkha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In a few instances, the Torah describes the very specific role clouds play within the Israelite encampment.
In the last four verses of Shmot Chapter 24, as Moshe is receiving the complete instructions of the Torah, he ascends a cloud-covered mountain for 40 days. Of course, no one else is allowed to “enter” the mountain during this time.
Skip to the end of Shmot. In Chapter 40, the Glory of God shifts from a one time location at Sinai to its more permanent location as it fills the Mishkan, and the cloud moves into the tent of meeting (‘ohel mo’ed’). Not even Moshe may enter at this time – he must wait until the cloud rises – and the people will not travel, we are told, until the cloud lifts. The cloud of God is present during the day, and the evening is illuminated by fire.
The rules seem pretty clear. If the cloud is visible on top of the Mishkan, no one may enter the Mishkan and there is no traveling. When the cloud lifts, Moshe may enter, and traveling can resume. As a result, the passage in our portion (9:15-23) seems out of place.
As a matter of fact, perhaps it should not appear in the Torah at all. In a seemingly repetitive string of verses, the Torah lays out the rules again, saying that the terms of travel are dictated by the cloud, which is controlled, of course, by God.
Sometimes the people will remain for a few days or a lengthier period of time, and sometimes they will travel the morning after they unload and seemingly get settled.
A critical reader of these verses might declare the Bible Critic’s mantra: “The Torah has multiple authors who couldn’t get it right, so they all needed to set the record straight.” As this is not an assumption we like to employ, we must find an alternative answer, to deal with the issue of why people are assumed to be unintelligent, failing to grasp the concept that “cloud present = no travel” while “cloud removed = you may use the mishkan and/or today’s a travel day.”
The Seforno on 9:23 shares a profound comment, one which is perhaps difficult for us, who write and dictate our own schedules, to comprehend. He says all is done based on God’s declarations, paying no heed to whether people haven’t even had a chance to take a breather, or whether they’ve settled down in the new resting spot and are quite comfortable.
To bring a practical example, anytime I’ve ever had car trouble, whether from a break-in, dead battery, flat tire, or fender bender, it has never been “a good time for this to happen.” While I am generally grateful that all of these scrapes have never involved personal injury to anyone, the inconvenience of hours lost somehow never take place on days in which I had nothing better to do.
How many times have we gotten into a groove, whether it is in a new job, a new school year, or the like, only to have something completely throw us out of our rhythm and make us have to start over again?
I recall the month of Elul in yeshiva in Israel as being a particularly challenging time to “get into learning.” After a couple of weeks, however, as things begin to fall into place and become routine, the Sukkot break would send us out of yeshiva only to have to begin again after the holidays.
Perhaps the lesson we are meant to take is that as much as we plan and think we are in control, we are not the One pulling the strings. Sometimes we need a reminder to this effect – a reminder which can come in a very noticeable cloud or in an enlightening pillar of fire. And sometimes we’ll miss it completely. After all, when it’s cloudy “the sun don’t shine.”
But repetition is a good breeding ground for getting the message.
Whether we like our home, our community, our country, there may come a time when the signs are dictating it’s time to move on. Hopefully we’ll be able to see the signs and the timing will be “good for all of us.”
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In a few instances, the Torah describes the very specific role clouds play within the Israelite encampment.
In the last four verses of Shmot Chapter 24, as Moshe is receiving the complete instructions of the Torah, he ascends a cloud-covered mountain for 40 days. Of course, no one else is allowed to “enter” the mountain during this time.
Skip to the end of Shmot. In Chapter 40, the Glory of God shifts from a one time location at Sinai to its more permanent location as it fills the Mishkan, and the cloud moves into the tent of meeting (‘ohel mo’ed’). Not even Moshe may enter at this time – he must wait until the cloud rises – and the people will not travel, we are told, until the cloud lifts. The cloud of God is present during the day, and the evening is illuminated by fire.
The rules seem pretty clear. If the cloud is visible on top of the Mishkan, no one may enter the Mishkan and there is no traveling. When the cloud lifts, Moshe may enter, and traveling can resume. As a result, the passage in our portion (9:15-23) seems out of place.
As a matter of fact, perhaps it should not appear in the Torah at all. In a seemingly repetitive string of verses, the Torah lays out the rules again, saying that the terms of travel are dictated by the cloud, which is controlled, of course, by God.
Sometimes the people will remain for a few days or a lengthier period of time, and sometimes they will travel the morning after they unload and seemingly get settled.
A critical reader of these verses might declare the Bible Critic’s mantra: “The Torah has multiple authors who couldn’t get it right, so they all needed to set the record straight.” As this is not an assumption we like to employ, we must find an alternative answer, to deal with the issue of why people are assumed to be unintelligent, failing to grasp the concept that “cloud present = no travel” while “cloud removed = you may use the mishkan and/or today’s a travel day.”
The Seforno on 9:23 shares a profound comment, one which is perhaps difficult for us, who write and dictate our own schedules, to comprehend. He says all is done based on God’s declarations, paying no heed to whether people haven’t even had a chance to take a breather, or whether they’ve settled down in the new resting spot and are quite comfortable.
To bring a practical example, anytime I’ve ever had car trouble, whether from a break-in, dead battery, flat tire, or fender bender, it has never been “a good time for this to happen.” While I am generally grateful that all of these scrapes have never involved personal injury to anyone, the inconvenience of hours lost somehow never take place on days in which I had nothing better to do.
How many times have we gotten into a groove, whether it is in a new job, a new school year, or the like, only to have something completely throw us out of our rhythm and make us have to start over again?
I recall the month of Elul in yeshiva in Israel as being a particularly challenging time to “get into learning.” After a couple of weeks, however, as things begin to fall into place and become routine, the Sukkot break would send us out of yeshiva only to have to begin again after the holidays.
Perhaps the lesson we are meant to take is that as much as we plan and think we are in control, we are not the One pulling the strings. Sometimes we need a reminder to this effect – a reminder which can come in a very noticeable cloud or in an enlightening pillar of fire. And sometimes we’ll miss it completely. After all, when it’s cloudy “the sun don’t shine.”
But repetition is a good breeding ground for getting the message.
Whether we like our home, our community, our country, there may come a time when the signs are dictating it’s time to move on. Hopefully we’ll be able to see the signs and the timing will be “good for all of us.”
Friday, May 24, 2013
Divine "Changes"?
An outsider's (perhaps naive) commentary on some of the activism going on in Israel (and perhaps in the US as well). I have purposely chosen not to take a specific stand for either side here because the ultimate lesson the dvar Torah brings out is the point upon which I am focusing. If you'd like to have the dialogue, feel free to comment (or email me!), and we can have a conversation. For a slightly different perspective, see this thought quoted in the name of HaRav Yehuda Amital, Z"L, the founding Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion
Parshat B'haalotkha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In the first Nissan month following the Exodus, the Torah tells us that the Israelites observed Passover, bringing the Korban Pesach (Paschal lamb offering) at its proper time. (Chapter 9)
The tale that follows is of a group of people, who were unable to participate in the Korban Pesach on account of their being in a state of "tumah" (a spiritual state of impurity).
"But why should we lose out and not be able to present God's offering at the right time, along with the other Israelites?" they ask.
"Wait here," Moshe replied. "I will hear what orders God gives regarding your case."
He is told, "Speak to the Israelites, saying: If any person is tameh (ritually impure) from contact with the dead, or is on a distant journey, whether among you [now] or in future generations, he shall still have the opportunity to prepare God's Passover offering… He shall prepare it on the afternoon of the 14th of the second month and shall eat it with matzahs and bitter herbs." (9:7-14) This is the Torah's account of the mitzvah of "Pesach Sheni" – the makeup date for missing the Korban Pesach.
Rashi says, "These impure (tameh) people were privileged to have this mitzvah (of Pesach Sheni) be attributed to their question, as opposed to coming directly from Moshe, because we bring about something which is worthy through someone who is worthy." Three of the opinions as to their identity are those who carried Yosef's bones, Mishael andEltzafan – who took Nadav and Avihu out of the Mishkan after their tragic end, or people who buried others who had no family. All of these possibilities are people who are very worthy to perform the mitzvah were it not for the "tumah" factor holding them back.
In his exploration of Rashi's commentary, Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi notes that those who were tameh were tameh that day, but were to become tahor (pure) that evening. As such, they would have been fit and could have partaken of the Korban Pesach on time – not in the day of the 14th of Nissan, but in the evening of the 15th, during their "Seder," when the Paschal Lamb "is to be eaten and not leftover until morning."
Were their question not asked "that day" (9:6) when there was still time, we would be able to wonder who would have the audacity to suggest that despite missing the opportunity to do the mitzvah in its proper time, they should have a do-over! There is a halakhic principle that once a specific time for a mitzvah has passed (particularly a korban) – the opportunity is lost (avar zmano batel korbano).
Their circumstance was unique, their position, as Rashi notes, one of tremendous worthiness, and their opportunity, to have a previously undisclosed mitzvah be taught through their story, makes their situation most noteworthy.
Mizrachi quotes the Raavad who suggests they had actually tried to bring the Korban Pesach, before being sprinkled with the requisite blood (presumably of the Parah Adumah – Red Heifer), and immersing in water to complete their purification process, and the offering was rejected. Mizrachi wonders, according to this opinion, why they were not instructed to undergo the purifying process followed by an additional attempt at bringing the Korban Pesach? Beyond saying such a notion was not in the cards, since they were instructed to bring the Korban Pesach on Pesach Sheni (14 Iyar) one month in the future, he does not answer this question.
The people in this circumstance were creating history. And with the authentic leadership of Moshe and the connection to the Divine he provided, their question was not out of place. Their timeliness in asking – on the day they should have been bringing the Korban, along with the suggestion that they did actually bring one only to have it rejected, together indicate a Divine stamp of approval to their efforts. They merited to have a mitzvah taught in their story!
Can the same always be said about those who are opportunists, who pick a time to say "Why should we lose out?" in order to stoke coals and create controversy?
There is a difference between taking up a cause for social justice and taking up a cause in the name of religion. True social justice cases, in which people are either not participating in society or are being selectively discriminated against in society, deserve a public hearing and a demand for equal rights.
But taking up a cause in the name of religion requires a very different attitude. Religion is ancient, has traditions, values, and a way which has been for centuries. And those looking to represent it must be humble, and must come across as standing on the shoulders of precedent.
Sincerity is relative. The people who were looking to perform the Korban Pesach, who were held back by a technicality, were sincere. They got their makeup date, which was not a new idea, according to Mizrachi, but was only taught at this time because of their sincerity.
What really drives the people behind both sides of the latest demonstrations at the Kotel? What drives those involved on both sides of drafting the Charedim into the Israeli army?
While there is a time and place for everything, the reverse is not true: not everything belongs in every place at all times.
The issues are complicated, emotions run high, some people are sincere, while some are driven by an agenda that is far less than sincere. A Divine response would be most helpful in achieving peaceful solutions. But without it, humility is the key ingredient that could keep everyone grounded and help reach appropriate compromises.
Parshat B'haalotkha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In the first Nissan month following the Exodus, the Torah tells us that the Israelites observed Passover, bringing the Korban Pesach (Paschal lamb offering) at its proper time. (Chapter 9)
The tale that follows is of a group of people, who were unable to participate in the Korban Pesach on account of their being in a state of "tumah" (a spiritual state of impurity).
"But why should we lose out and not be able to present God's offering at the right time, along with the other Israelites?" they ask.
"Wait here," Moshe replied. "I will hear what orders God gives regarding your case."
He is told, "Speak to the Israelites, saying: If any person is tameh (ritually impure) from contact with the dead, or is on a distant journey, whether among you [now] or in future generations, he shall still have the opportunity to prepare God's Passover offering… He shall prepare it on the afternoon of the 14th of the second month and shall eat it with matzahs and bitter herbs." (9:7-14) This is the Torah's account of the mitzvah of "Pesach Sheni" – the makeup date for missing the Korban Pesach.
Rashi says, "These impure (tameh) people were privileged to have this mitzvah (of Pesach Sheni) be attributed to their question, as opposed to coming directly from Moshe, because we bring about something which is worthy through someone who is worthy." Three of the opinions as to their identity are those who carried Yosef's bones, Mishael andEltzafan – who took Nadav and Avihu out of the Mishkan after their tragic end, or people who buried others who had no family. All of these possibilities are people who are very worthy to perform the mitzvah were it not for the "tumah" factor holding them back.
In his exploration of Rashi's commentary, Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi notes that those who were tameh were tameh that day, but were to become tahor (pure) that evening. As such, they would have been fit and could have partaken of the Korban Pesach on time – not in the day of the 14th of Nissan, but in the evening of the 15th, during their "Seder," when the Paschal Lamb "is to be eaten and not leftover until morning."
Were their question not asked "that day" (9:6) when there was still time, we would be able to wonder who would have the audacity to suggest that despite missing the opportunity to do the mitzvah in its proper time, they should have a do-over! There is a halakhic principle that once a specific time for a mitzvah has passed (particularly a korban) – the opportunity is lost (avar zmano batel korbano).
Their circumstance was unique, their position, as Rashi notes, one of tremendous worthiness, and their opportunity, to have a previously undisclosed mitzvah be taught through their story, makes their situation most noteworthy.
Mizrachi quotes the Raavad who suggests they had actually tried to bring the Korban Pesach, before being sprinkled with the requisite blood (presumably of the Parah Adumah – Red Heifer), and immersing in water to complete their purification process, and the offering was rejected. Mizrachi wonders, according to this opinion, why they were not instructed to undergo the purifying process followed by an additional attempt at bringing the Korban Pesach? Beyond saying such a notion was not in the cards, since they were instructed to bring the Korban Pesach on Pesach Sheni (14 Iyar) one month in the future, he does not answer this question.
The people in this circumstance were creating history. And with the authentic leadership of Moshe and the connection to the Divine he provided, their question was not out of place. Their timeliness in asking – on the day they should have been bringing the Korban, along with the suggestion that they did actually bring one only to have it rejected, together indicate a Divine stamp of approval to their efforts. They merited to have a mitzvah taught in their story!
Can the same always be said about those who are opportunists, who pick a time to say "Why should we lose out?" in order to stoke coals and create controversy?
There is a difference between taking up a cause for social justice and taking up a cause in the name of religion. True social justice cases, in which people are either not participating in society or are being selectively discriminated against in society, deserve a public hearing and a demand for equal rights.
But taking up a cause in the name of religion requires a very different attitude. Religion is ancient, has traditions, values, and a way which has been for centuries. And those looking to represent it must be humble, and must come across as standing on the shoulders of precedent.
Sincerity is relative. The people who were looking to perform the Korban Pesach, who were held back by a technicality, were sincere. They got their makeup date, which was not a new idea, according to Mizrachi, but was only taught at this time because of their sincerity.
What really drives the people behind both sides of the latest demonstrations at the Kotel? What drives those involved on both sides of drafting the Charedim into the Israeli army?
While there is a time and place for everything, the reverse is not true: not everything belongs in every place at all times.
The issues are complicated, emotions run high, some people are sincere, while some are driven by an agenda that is far less than sincere. A Divine response would be most helpful in achieving peaceful solutions. But without it, humility is the key ingredient that could keep everyone grounded and help reach appropriate compromises.
Friday, June 8, 2012
The Eldad and Meidad Story
Parshat B'haalotkha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
While Chapter 11 in the book of Bamidbar bears little resemblance to the famous reorganization process of the Bankruptcy Code, it does have a series of setbacks that seem to put the people in a negative light: disobedience, complaining, people getting punished by fire, or their bodies suffer the effects of too much quail.
Towards the end of the chapter there is a tale concerning two men, Eldad and Meidad, and their prophesying in the camp. Were they good or bad? Is this a positive story,or does it follow the theme of the rest of the chapter – which is largely negative?
The Gemara Sanhedrin (17a) describes a dilemma Moshe faced. He had to gather 70 elders from 12 tribes. Were he to take 5 elders from each tribe, he'd only have 60 elders. 6 elders from each tribe would result in having two extra elders. To resolve the dilemma – because he did not want to favor any specific tribe or to make such unfair decisions – he created a lottery of sorts, in which he prepared 72 pieces of paper for the 6 representatives per tribe. Each picked one – 70 had the word "Zaken" indicating that its recipient was chosen, and 2 of them were blank – freeing their recipients of any responsibility. Eldad and Meidad (E&M) received the blank sheets.
The gemara goes on to describe their humility. While others were clamoring to be the elders, E&M saw themselves as unworthy to be the elders. As a result, God rewarded them with greatness. While other prophets prophesied and their careers ended, E&M's prophesies did not end.
The Medrash Tanchuma (22) lists four additional differences: The elders could only prophesy about the coming day, while E&M prophesied about what would take place in 40 years. The elders did not enter the land, while E&M merited to enter the land (following the opinion that Eldad was Elidad ben Kislon of 34:21, while Meidad was K'muel ben Shiftan of 34:24). The elders were not named, and we have no record of their identities, while E&M are obviously named. The elders had their prophesy come from Moshe, while the prophesy of E&M came directly from God.
There are three opinions in the Talmud as what they prophesied: that Moshe will die and Yehoshua will lead the people into the land, regarding the quail, or regarding the end of days with Gog U'Magog.
All of this information seems positive. Moshe seems not only unperturbed, but, as the Daat Mikra chumash explains it, he is welcoming of any higher stature any Israelite might achieve. So why is the incident included in this seemingly negative chapter and paragraph? Because there are major downsides to the story.
The Midrash (Tanchuma and others) paints a picture of how happy people were when E&M were prophesying, going so far to say "Praised are their children and wives, that they have become prophets!" Miriam overheard Moshe's former wife, Tzipporah, say, "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."
Misunderstanding Moshe's unique status – including the instruction God gave him when the nation were told to return to their spouses after Revelation (Devarim 5:26) while Moshe was told to remain with God (5:27) – Miriam proceeded to speak ill of Moshe to Aharon (the final story in our parsha). The E&M story thus became a source for lashon hara.
While there are two approaches to understanding if Eldad and Meidad were part of the 70 elders or were the two extras as described above, there are also two approaches to why they remained in the camp and did not go out to the Ohel Moed. One approach suggests they were quite humble. The other approach – as forwarded by the Or haChaim – suggests they were ashamed and disgraced on account of being the only two people "rejected" from becoming elders. God rewarded them with prophesy so they would nevertheless become men of stature.
According to the Sifrei, Yehoshua's response to their prophesying can either mean "Destroy them" or "Imprison them" – either interpretation likely follows the approach that they were prophesying about Moshe's death and Yehoshua's succession. And while the Midrash tells us Yehoshua's defense of his teacher is a lesson in how one should revere one's teacher as one reveres heaven, the Talmud (Eruvin 63a) is of the opinion that Yehoshua's zealousness in this regard – speaking out of turn in the presence of Moshe, who was not offended by E&M – caused him to be punished. He never had children.
Lashon Hara, embarrassment, and overzealousness are certainly negative outcomes of this story.
The lesson I take from this tale is from the response of Moshe. Go with the flow, be happy for others in their success, and don't pay any attention to hoi polloi who comment without seeing the full picture. Know who you are and respect others, and you will only be the better person because of it.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
While Chapter 11 in the book of Bamidbar bears little resemblance to the famous reorganization process of the Bankruptcy Code, it does have a series of setbacks that seem to put the people in a negative light: disobedience, complaining, people getting punished by fire, or their bodies suffer the effects of too much quail.
Towards the end of the chapter there is a tale concerning two men, Eldad and Meidad, and their prophesying in the camp. Were they good or bad? Is this a positive story,or does it follow the theme of the rest of the chapter – which is largely negative?
The Gemara Sanhedrin (17a) describes a dilemma Moshe faced. He had to gather 70 elders from 12 tribes. Were he to take 5 elders from each tribe, he'd only have 60 elders. 6 elders from each tribe would result in having two extra elders. To resolve the dilemma – because he did not want to favor any specific tribe or to make such unfair decisions – he created a lottery of sorts, in which he prepared 72 pieces of paper for the 6 representatives per tribe. Each picked one – 70 had the word "Zaken" indicating that its recipient was chosen, and 2 of them were blank – freeing their recipients of any responsibility. Eldad and Meidad (E&M) received the blank sheets.
The gemara goes on to describe their humility. While others were clamoring to be the elders, E&M saw themselves as unworthy to be the elders. As a result, God rewarded them with greatness. While other prophets prophesied and their careers ended, E&M's prophesies did not end.
The Medrash Tanchuma (22) lists four additional differences: The elders could only prophesy about the coming day, while E&M prophesied about what would take place in 40 years. The elders did not enter the land, while E&M merited to enter the land (following the opinion that Eldad was Elidad ben Kislon of 34:21, while Meidad was K'muel ben Shiftan of 34:24). The elders were not named, and we have no record of their identities, while E&M are obviously named. The elders had their prophesy come from Moshe, while the prophesy of E&M came directly from God.
There are three opinions in the Talmud as what they prophesied: that Moshe will die and Yehoshua will lead the people into the land, regarding the quail, or regarding the end of days with Gog U'Magog.
All of this information seems positive. Moshe seems not only unperturbed, but, as the Daat Mikra chumash explains it, he is welcoming of any higher stature any Israelite might achieve. So why is the incident included in this seemingly negative chapter and paragraph? Because there are major downsides to the story.
The Midrash (Tanchuma and others) paints a picture of how happy people were when E&M were prophesying, going so far to say "Praised are their children and wives, that they have become prophets!" Miriam overheard Moshe's former wife, Tzipporah, say, "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."
Misunderstanding Moshe's unique status – including the instruction God gave him when the nation were told to return to their spouses after Revelation (Devarim 5:26) while Moshe was told to remain with God (5:27) – Miriam proceeded to speak ill of Moshe to Aharon (the final story in our parsha). The E&M story thus became a source for lashon hara.
While there are two approaches to understanding if Eldad and Meidad were part of the 70 elders or were the two extras as described above, there are also two approaches to why they remained in the camp and did not go out to the Ohel Moed. One approach suggests they were quite humble. The other approach – as forwarded by the Or haChaim – suggests they were ashamed and disgraced on account of being the only two people "rejected" from becoming elders. God rewarded them with prophesy so they would nevertheless become men of stature.
According to the Sifrei, Yehoshua's response to their prophesying can either mean "Destroy them" or "Imprison them" – either interpretation likely follows the approach that they were prophesying about Moshe's death and Yehoshua's succession. And while the Midrash tells us Yehoshua's defense of his teacher is a lesson in how one should revere one's teacher as one reveres heaven, the Talmud (Eruvin 63a) is of the opinion that Yehoshua's zealousness in this regard – speaking out of turn in the presence of Moshe, who was not offended by E&M – caused him to be punished. He never had children.
Lashon Hara, embarrassment, and overzealousness are certainly negative outcomes of this story.
The lesson I take from this tale is from the response of Moshe. Go with the flow, be happy for others in their success, and don't pay any attention to hoi polloi who comment without seeing the full picture. Know who you are and respect others, and you will only be the better person because of it.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Discuss Before Complaining
This also appears in the Jewish Star
B'haalotkha
Bamidbar chapter 11 is an example of the aftermath of someone observing that everything is perfect and cannot get any better, followed by the opposite extreme when things become so bad that they “can’t get any worse.”
Three incidents indicate a breakdown of the rosy image of idyllic travel, and lead up to the devastating event of the spies in chapters 13-14, that causes the generation of the exodus to slowly die out over forty years, never to reach the promised land.
Let us examine the first of these incidents.
“The people began to complain, and it was evil in G-d’s ears. When G-d heard it, He displayed His anger, and G-d’s fire flared out, consuming the edge of the camp. The people cried out to Moses, and when Moses prayed to G-d, the fire died down. ” (11:1-2)
Firstly, the language that describes this fire is very similar to the language describing the fire that killed Nadav and Avihu in Vayikra 10. Perhaps the “consuming fire” in both cases strikes down those who were meant to die from a previous incident.
In Shmot 24:10-11, Nadav, Avihu, and the elders all catch a glimpse of G-d, which Rashi explains as requiring a death sentence (most likely related to Shmot 33:20), which was commuted at that time – but carried out later. Nadav and Avihu died at the dedication of the Mishkan, and the elders died here (Rashi in Shmot 24; see also Chizkuni here).
Lesson #1
Perhaps we can say, “You can run, but you can never hide” from your past. Those guilty of misdeeds eventually have it catch up to them, particularly when other people were involved or hurt by their deeds.
Other Ways to Interpret
But there are other interpretations of the complainers’ identity, their complaints and why all was considered evil.
Many commentaries focus on the prefix and root of “k’mit’on’nim,” suggesting different shorashim (possible roots) and questioning why the people were “as if,” and not “actual” complainers.
Different interpretations of their complaint include: they wanted to separate from G-d (Rashi); now that they were sojourning, they were concerned about the difficulties of the journey (many commentaries); they thought the world predated G-d, which would mean there is no reason to fear G-d (Toldot Yitzchak); that Mishkan work had been taken from the firstborns of all the tribes and given to the Levites (which makes this a preview to Korach’s complaint, where fire will again consume the guilty) (Meshekh Chokhmah).
Most interesting are those who say the root of the word is “Onen,” as in a person who has yet to bury a deceased relative. According to the Daat Zekenim, this kind of mourning is the negativity they carried with them to their desert travels.
Kli Yakar, on the other hand, focuses on the backward letters “nun” which comes immediately before our tale, and also appear doubled in the word “k’mit’on’nim.” He examines complaints that follow in this chapter about lack of meat, and about the laws of sexual conduct, as delineated in Vayikra 18 and 20.
He claims the people accepted a suppressed desire after learning the latter rules, until the hidden message of “Vayhi Binsoa Ha’Aron” (end of chapter 10) reminded them of the importance of procreation. Men were now “willing” to procreate with every woman, until they remembered the laws of Vayikra 18 and 20. They now became like “Onenim” – new mourners who separate from their spouses, complaining of their catch-22. “We want to procreate, but we are limited in possible partners.”
The result of their complaints against Moshe and G-d for curbing their enthusiasm to fulfill the commandment, a fire of G-d consumed their fire of passion, says Kli Yakar, and those on the fringes were killed.
Lesson #2
The beauty of halakhah lies in the fact that much is still up for discussion – kashrut standards, medical ethics, the role of women, definitions of zmanim (times) and sizes of “shiurim” (amounts).
Rules that are explicit in the Torah, however, are not up for discussion. Whether they be of an appropriate way: for a person to see G-d, to violate the arayot of Vayikra 18 and 20, to suggest anything pre-dated G-d, or to complain about the Levites receiving special privileges, or any one of the Torah’s prohibitions, Jews who follow the Torah are going to have an impossible task declaring them void and unbinding.
In our free country, everything boils down to choices. One can choose to be or not to be part of the system. Once in the system, the unequivocal rules are dead-set. Those that might still be open to discussion should be front-burner discussions.
But if we’re going to complain (instead of participating in the give-and-take of dialogue) or flat out reject, then we’re pitting ourselves in the camp of those on the fringes who were destroyed by a fire, mourning over their “loss of freedom” that comes with being part of a collective whole, under G-d.
B'haalotkha
Bamidbar chapter 11 is an example of the aftermath of someone observing that everything is perfect and cannot get any better, followed by the opposite extreme when things become so bad that they “can’t get any worse.”
Three incidents indicate a breakdown of the rosy image of idyllic travel, and lead up to the devastating event of the spies in chapters 13-14, that causes the generation of the exodus to slowly die out over forty years, never to reach the promised land.
Let us examine the first of these incidents.
“The people began to complain, and it was evil in G-d’s ears. When G-d heard it, He displayed His anger, and G-d’s fire flared out, consuming the edge of the camp. The people cried out to Moses, and when Moses prayed to G-d, the fire died down. ” (11:1-2)
Firstly, the language that describes this fire is very similar to the language describing the fire that killed Nadav and Avihu in Vayikra 10. Perhaps the “consuming fire” in both cases strikes down those who were meant to die from a previous incident.
In Shmot 24:10-11, Nadav, Avihu, and the elders all catch a glimpse of G-d, which Rashi explains as requiring a death sentence (most likely related to Shmot 33:20), which was commuted at that time – but carried out later. Nadav and Avihu died at the dedication of the Mishkan, and the elders died here (Rashi in Shmot 24; see also Chizkuni here).
Lesson #1
Perhaps we can say, “You can run, but you can never hide” from your past. Those guilty of misdeeds eventually have it catch up to them, particularly when other people were involved or hurt by their deeds.
Other Ways to Interpret
But there are other interpretations of the complainers’ identity, their complaints and why all was considered evil.
Many commentaries focus on the prefix and root of “k’mit’on’nim,” suggesting different shorashim (possible roots) and questioning why the people were “as if,” and not “actual” complainers.
Different interpretations of their complaint include: they wanted to separate from G-d (Rashi); now that they were sojourning, they were concerned about the difficulties of the journey (many commentaries); they thought the world predated G-d, which would mean there is no reason to fear G-d (Toldot Yitzchak); that Mishkan work had been taken from the firstborns of all the tribes and given to the Levites (which makes this a preview to Korach’s complaint, where fire will again consume the guilty) (Meshekh Chokhmah).
Most interesting are those who say the root of the word is “Onen,” as in a person who has yet to bury a deceased relative. According to the Daat Zekenim, this kind of mourning is the negativity they carried with them to their desert travels.
Kli Yakar, on the other hand, focuses on the backward letters “nun” which comes immediately before our tale, and also appear doubled in the word “k’mit’on’nim.” He examines complaints that follow in this chapter about lack of meat, and about the laws of sexual conduct, as delineated in Vayikra 18 and 20.
He claims the people accepted a suppressed desire after learning the latter rules, until the hidden message of “Vayhi Binsoa Ha’Aron” (end of chapter 10) reminded them of the importance of procreation. Men were now “willing” to procreate with every woman, until they remembered the laws of Vayikra 18 and 20. They now became like “Onenim” – new mourners who separate from their spouses, complaining of their catch-22. “We want to procreate, but we are limited in possible partners.”
The result of their complaints against Moshe and G-d for curbing their enthusiasm to fulfill the commandment, a fire of G-d consumed their fire of passion, says Kli Yakar, and those on the fringes were killed.
Lesson #2
The beauty of halakhah lies in the fact that much is still up for discussion – kashrut standards, medical ethics, the role of women, definitions of zmanim (times) and sizes of “shiurim” (amounts).
Rules that are explicit in the Torah, however, are not up for discussion. Whether they be of an appropriate way: for a person to see G-d, to violate the arayot of Vayikra 18 and 20, to suggest anything pre-dated G-d, or to complain about the Levites receiving special privileges, or any one of the Torah’s prohibitions, Jews who follow the Torah are going to have an impossible task declaring them void and unbinding.
In our free country, everything boils down to choices. One can choose to be or not to be part of the system. Once in the system, the unequivocal rules are dead-set. Those that might still be open to discussion should be front-burner discussions.
But if we’re going to complain (instead of participating in the give-and-take of dialogue) or flat out reject, then we’re pitting ourselves in the camp of those on the fringes who were destroyed by a fire, mourning over their “loss of freedom” that comes with being part of a collective whole, under G-d.
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