Showing posts with label Tzlafchad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tzlafchad. Show all posts

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Revisiting Tzlafchad

Titled "Revisiting" because we've been down this road before

Parshat Pinchas

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 This idea was born out of a learning session I had with my daughter, Aliza. She gets a lot of credit for the direction into which this thought developed. 

 The tale of the daughters of Tzlafchad is shrouded in mystery surrounding the death of their father.

 Five years ago, I raised the suggestion of the Zohar that Tzlafchad was the lone victim of the snakes in Bamidbar 21. 

 But a new reading of the account lends to a new interpretation that perhaps his so-called “sin” wasn’t really a sin at all.
 “Our father died in the desert. He was not among the members of Korach's party who protested against God, but he died [in/of] his own sin without leaving any sons.” (27:3) 
 The daughters of Tzlafchad ask Moshe for their father’s portion in the land because they feel his desert-death should not prevent his family inheriting a portion of land.

 If their father’s death was relatively innocent, why compare it to Korach’s rebels? Were they really saying that he died because of a sin? How would they know that the sin was the reason for his death?

 Abravanel raises a number of points that can help us answer these questions.

 They compared their father to Korach to make it clear to Moshe that Tzlafchad never challenged him personally. This might help Moshe be more receptive to their request. Tzlafchad was not a controversial figure.

 Their saying “He died in his sin” (‘b’chet’o met) makes any suggestion of his having died at the hands of man (such as the woodcutter in Bamidbar 15:32-36, or in any battle in Bamidbar 14) to be impossible.

 But maybe that expression introduces us to what his “sin” was, namely that he did not have any sons.

 Before we continue, let us make a couple of things clear. Not having sons is not a sin. People who have only daughters, or people who do not have children at all, have not sinned. It is in God’s hand to grant people children, and whatever cards He deals determines to what degree we have fulfilled our mitzvah to procreate. The Talmud tells us there are three partners in creation (Kiddushin 30b, Niddah 31a) (though modern science can perhaps be counted as a “fourth” partner in Creation for those struggling with infertility), but as one of my teachers once pointed out, the Talmudic passage in Shabbat 31a that lists the questions one will face at the Heavenly Court includes “Did you attempt to procreate?” The question is not whether you were successful or how many children you had, but whether you tried.

Tzlafchad had five daughters. But they are the ones who mention that “he died in his sin and he did not have sons.”

 There is only one other place in the Torah when the idea of “not having sons” is mentioned: in a passage that describes how Nadav and Avihu, Aharon’s older sons, had died. Bamidbar 3:4 tells us “Nadav and Avihu died before God when they offered unauthorized fire to God in the Sinai Desert, and they had no sons.” 

Trying to pinpoint why Nadav and Avihu died is a longer conversation, with many viewpoints and suggestions offered by the commentaries. But the Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 20) utilizes this verse to make a strange suggestion in the name of Rabbi Levi, that one of the reasons Nadav and Avihu died was because “They did not have sons.” (Bamidbar 3:4). While not having sons is not inherently a sin, it could be viewed in Torah language as a “chet” – a sin. (The Talmud Yevamot 64a suggests it may actually be a sin, but the Torah Temimah explains how it’s not a real sin) Seforno and others suggest that if Nadav and Avihu had sons, those sons would have been kohanim even before Elazar and Itamar. Not having produced these children, they missed out on bringing the next generation of kohanim into the world.

 Perhaps, in using a similar language, Tzlafchad’s daughters were saying to Moshe, “Our father died leaving only daughters. In his own way, following the teaching we learned about Nadav and Avihu, his death was in a state of personal ‘sin’ because there were no sons. But, unlike Nadav and Avihu, who had no children, he left behind five daughters. We should get his portion so that our father’s name will not be forgotten.”

 This may have actually been a brilliant ploy because Moshe viewed his nephews Nadav and Avihu as very holy (Vayikra 10:3). Perhaps Tzlafchad’s daughters’ appeals to Moshe (and his feelings about his nephews), explaining their circumstance in similar terms, helped Moshe come to the conclusion that of course they should inherit because it is unfair for their father’s circumstance to be compared to Nadav and Avihu. Particularly if Moshe looked past Nadav and Avihu’s lack of children, he would see that Tzlafchad’s daughters were all that their father could have wished for and more.

 Certainly having daughters is a great blessing. And maybe, after this tale, the concept of the “sin” of not having sons was laid to rest forever. Because raising children is not about gender. It is about teaching the next generation how to be good people, and good Jews. And certainly in that respect, Tzlafchad was anything but a failure or sinner. He was quite successful!

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Gather Wood and Die?

Regarding the Identity of Tzlafchad see here (or listen here!). And regarding the Death Penalty For Shabbos Violations see here

Parshat Shlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 To the best of my counting (and happy to hear a correction!), the Torah mentions the concept of Shabbos once in Bereishis, six times in Shmos, four times in Vayikra, twice in Bamidbar (including our parsha) and only once in Devarim.

 Add to this at least 16 times it is referenced in the remaining 19 books of the Bible, and we have a significant day in the Jewish calendar.

 The story of the woodgatherer (m'koshesh eitzim) in 15:32-36, however, is one of the more disturbing references to the holy day in the Torah. And while it is Shmot 31:14 that is the pretext for the result meted out to the woodgatherer, it is nonetheless troubling to see someone put to death for "violating the Sabbath."

 The Talmud (Bava Batra 119a-b) suggests - somewhat approvingly - the violator did so on purpose to teach a lesson to the people.

 I have always found this Talmudic passage to be troubling. Since when is a person given approval for violating a capital offense in order to teach a lesson? The active principle in the Torah is that when a person is guilty of violating a capital crime, the punishment will be so public that "All of Israel will hear and fear [the punishment] and they will not continue to do such a heinous crime." (see Devarim 13:12, 21:21) There is no justification granted to those who purposely sin for the benefit of the masses! Their sins are not whitewashed in the Torah, and yet the Talmud does give the woodgathering sinner an air of justification.

 It happens that even this principle (capital punishment as a deterrent) is hard to fathom in the two cases in Devarim – the former being an individual who tries to get others to leave the fold and worship idolatry, while the latter is the case of the wayward son who has become a glutton and violates the fifth of the Aseres Hadibros (Ten Statements) through disrespecting his parents. For a different discussion. 

How do we reconcile a person doing a simple act of carrying wood on Shabbos and receiving the death penalty as a result?

 We can't. And this is why the Meshekh Chokhmah notes that "from the time the woodgatherer was stoned – though he had intended his act for the sake of heaven, to publicize the punishment so people would not take the prohibitions of Shabbos lightly – it had such an emotional impact on the people (note he uses the word הרגש - which can either mean as I've translated it, or that they were terrified about violating the shabbos.) that while they were in the mountains of Moav and going through the motions of the book of Devarim (and the review of many laws that it includes), Shabbos is not mentioned. The manna's regular cycle (double portion on Friday) was the eternal reminder of the existence of Shabbos. This is why it is otherwise only mentioned in the retelling of the Ten Statements, which is a reminder to people to keep the Shabbos [but says nothing about those who violate it]."

There is no other evidence (that I'm aware of) that the death penalty was invoked for a violation of Shabbos. [Note from January 2014: See the Midrash in the comments that suggests one of the reasons Achan was killed (in Yehoshua 6-7) was because of Chillul Shabbat]

According to the reading of the Meshekh Chokhmah that the people were emotionally impacted, one might be able to argue that the people were not interested in hearing about the death penalty for Shabbos violations. According to the other way of reading it, it was unnecessary to raise the discussion because the matter was closed. Everyone got the point and the message about not violating the Shabbos.

Maybe the book of Devarim avoids the topic because the repercussions for its violation are so emotionally wrenching.

 But what is the crime?

 The mitzvah to keep Shabbos is so essential to who we are as a people on account of its prominence in testifying to God's creating the world.*

 It is also how we attest to God's role in taking us out of Egypt, and creating the nation of Israel that was finalized with the giving of the Torah - which includes the mitzvah of Shabbos so prominently displayed on the first of the Two Tablets.

 The wood gatherer displayed his utter disregard for all of this. Perhaps in the aftermath of the spies incident he felt that God had forsaken the Jewish people. Maybe he felt that there was no hope for the future - he, along with his generation were fated to die in the desert. Maybe he lost heart. Maybe he gave up. Maybe he felt there was nothing to live for anyway.

 that is a fatalist attitude. We have been waiting for the Messiah to come for a long time. We wait for peace in Israel, even though despite the good intentions of politicians, it will continue to elude the region with the "peace partners" that are anything but sincere.

 Do we give up? No. We forge on. With our faith intact. We do not abandon God and suggest He no longer exists because we are angry with Him. We maintain an ever present hope for the future. 

Abandoning God and the Torah is for people who, like the wood gatherer, don't see the point in it all. A person can believe in God and not observe the Sabbath. But ignoring the rules of resting on the Sabbath is an indicator that God's role in creating the world and resting on the seventh day is irrelevant to the Holy Day.

 While there is thankfully no death penalty for those who violate Shabbos, we pray that Jews across the world will revisit Shabbos, tap into its beauty, and help bring the day the Messiah can come. (Talmud Shabbos 118b)

*
מדרש אגדה (בובר) במדבר פרשת שלח פרק טו סימן לד 

ולמה נסמכה פרשת חילול שבת אצל ע"ז, ללמדך כשם שהמודה בע"ז ככופר בכל התורה, כך כל המחלל שבת ככופר בכל התורה כולה וכן שקולה שבת ככל המצות, שנאמר ועל הר סיני ירדת (ודברת) [ודבר] עמהם [משמים וגו' ואת שבת קדשך הודעת להם] (נחמיה ט' י"ד) 
******************
ps. Check out Rabbi Shimon's response to Rabbi Eliezer!!

ספרי זוטא פרק טו פסוק לב
(לב). ויהיו בני ישראל במדבר, אמר ר' אליעזר בן יעקב נאמר כאן ויהיו בני ישראל במדבר ונאמר להלן אבינו מת במדבר (שם /במדבר/ כז ג) מה מדבר שנא' להלן צלפחד אף מדבר האמור כאן צלפחד. - אמר לו ר' שמעון אי אפשר לומר מקושש היה צלפחד מפני שהיה מקושש בשנה ראשונה בעשרים ואחד לחדש השני וכי אפשר שיהיו בנות צלפחד בנות מלכים נאות וכשרות הקטנה שבהן היתה יושבת ארבעים שנה עד שלא נשאת וכי באיזו שעה מת צלפחד בשעה שנ' וישמע הכנעני מלך ערד (שם /במדבר/ לג מ) באותה שעה מת צלפחד: וימצאו איש, איש אחד היה: 


מדרש אגדה (בובר) במדבר פרשת שלח פרק טו סימן לד

ולמה נסמכה פרשת חילול שבת אצל ע"ז, ללמדך כשם שהמודה בע"ז ככופר בכל התורה, כך כל המחלל שבת ככופר בכל התורה כולה וכן שקולה שבת ככל המצות, שנאמר ועל הר סיני ירדת (ודברת) [ודבר] עמהם [משמים וגו' ואת שבת קדשך הודעת להם] (נחמיה ט' י"ד). 

Thursday, July 1, 2010

What was Tzlafchad's Sin?


A few years after writing this, I revisited Tzlafchad's sin over here
Parshat Pinchas

by Rabbi Avi Billet

“Our father died in the desert” (27:3) claim the daughters of Tzlafchad as they build their case to earn his portion in Canaan. Why would they use this as their opening statement when, after all, an entire generation died in the desert?

Chizkuni’s quick solution is that Tzlafchad was under twenty at the time of the spies incident and was not supposed to die on account of that decree and thus died from some other sin.

In the same verse, his daughters continue, “He was not among the members of Korach’s party who protested against G-d, but he died because of his own sin…” This claim could imply that the Korach rebellion either coincided with or preceded his death. Had he died before Korach, they would have said he “was not part of a previous group who had sinned” – such as the spies.

Furthermore, it would stand to reason that the deed for which he was punished was an objectively innocent one, as opposed to a deliberate and purposeful direct affront to G-d. Were he a real sinner, could his daughters use his sin as leverage to grant them their father’s inheritance? Can you imagine Datan’s and Aviram’s children saying “Our fathers died – but we want their inheritance?”

So what was his sin?

Rashi quotes the Gemara Shabbat 96b-97a and Sifrei 113 which record the opinion of Rabbi Akiva that Tzlafchad was the wood gatherer of Bamidbar 15:33 who was stoned for deliberately violating Shabbat in public. Since his daughters say “Our father died in the desert” and the Torah there says “When the Israelites were in the desert, a man was found gathering wood” the two stories are equated.

Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira (same gemara) is troubled with Rabbi Akiva’s attempt to identify the wood-gatherer when the Torah deliberately left him anonymous. How could this crime be pinned on Tzlafchad? He suggests Tzlafchad was one of the Ma’apilim, who tried to invade and conquer the land in the immediate aftermath of the spies, after the generation was told they’d die in the desert.

Many commentaries suggest he had a private sin, one in which he did not cause others to follow his lead.

The Zohar on Parshat Balak (Volume 3, page 205) uses a number of hints and nuances to create a different picture.

Tzlafchad was a leader – a “rav” (not a rabbi) – but he was not eligible to be a prince of his tribe because he was an “am haaretz” – not knowledgeable in Torah. When the Torah tells us “An ‘am rav’ died” on account of the snake bites in Parshat Chukat, it refers to an individual “am haaretz” who was a “rav” in his Israelite family.

When his daughters said, “Our father died ‘bamidbar’ – in the desert” the word “bamidbar” could be read to mean “b’dibbur” – on account of his speech, or complaints.

Taking nothing for granted, the Zohar offers a final proof, noting that the cantillation mark on the word “avinu” – our father – is a serpent-shaped zarka, which indicates that ‘our father’ was the lone person to die from a serpent bite in that incident.

The snakes were sent because those with gripes about manna spoke ill of G-d and Moshe. Objectively speaking, complaining is not necessarily sinning, because many complaints in the Torah do not result in punishment. It is compelling to suggest only one person died, as four verses earlier when the Canaanites took prisoners-of-war, commentaries say they only took one maidservant captive. Furthermore, unlike in other cases of plague where corpses are left behind for the counting (as opposed to when they’re swallowed by the ground ala Korach and company), we are given a tally of the dead. With the snakes, we are not given a number – which points to it being a small number such as “one.”

After telling Rabbi Akiva it is unfair to pin a sin on Tzalfchad, Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira does so himself, effectively ignoring that part of his own argument. The Torah gives us a number of examples of anonymous individuals who sinned – they remain so because their sin is not worthy to gain them infamy.

But in the case of Tzlafchad, the Torah retroactively pardons him and allows his daughters to inherit his property? Why?

There are times when people deliberately sin and give every indication of their inherent evil. And there are times when people make mistakes: something bugs them, and they take it to an extreme.

Rabbi Akiva takes a person who violates a fundamental tenet of the Torah and gives him a pardon through his daughters. Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira takes one individual out of a group of many, and focuses on him to say he alone deserves to live on in perpetuity, despite the fact that he was part of a group.

The Zohar argues that he acted alone, did not involve others, was not objectively rebelling against G-d, and he was punished on the spot for his mistake. But that does not mean that his name needs to be driven through the mud, forgotten and punished forever. Sometimes death is indeed a “kapparah” (a source of forgiveness for the soul), which allows the family to move on, while still being accepted and generally involved in the community.