There is very compelling evidence that Moshe was never supposed to go into the land. So why does the Torah keep harping on the incident of Mei Merivah (Bamidbar 20)?
Parshat Ha'azinu
by Rabbi Avi Billet
The song of Haazinu is troubling because it seems to describe actions and behaviors of the nation of Israel that we have never seen before in the Torah. The punishments God declares He has given and will give seem unequal to the violations committed.
Equally disturbing is how the punishment to Moshe is described in our parsha – because it is not an accurate reflection of what happened in Bamidbar 20. In 32:50 Moshe is told he will die as his brother Aharon had died (see Bamaidbar 20:22-28). In 32:51, the reason is given: “because you broke faith with me (‘m’altem bi’) in the midst of the Israelites at the Waters of Dispute at Kadesh in the Tzin Desert, and because you did not sanctify Me (‘lo kidashtem oti’) among the Israelites.”
While it is true that the event described took place, the way it is described in Bamidbar is quite different from how it is presented here.
In Bamidbar 20:12-13 the Torah tells us “God said to Moses and Aaron, 'You did not cause there to be enough faith in Me (lo he’emantem’) to cause Me to be sanctified (‘l’hakdisheini’) in the presence of the Israelites! Therefore, you shall not bring this assembly to the land that I have given you.' These are the Waters of Dispute (Mey Meribhah) where the Israelites disputed with God, and where He was [nevertheless] sanctified (‘va’y’kadesh bam’).” Eleven verses later we are told that “'Aaron will [now die and] be gathered up to his people. He will not come to the land that I am giving the Israelites because you rebelled against My word (‘asher m’ritem et pi’) at the Waters of Dispute.”
It is important to note that when referring to this incident in Bamidbar 27:14, Moshe is also told “m’ritem pi” and that you failed “l’hakdisheini.”
Strangely, some of these formulations appear once more in the Torah, in Devarim 9:23, when Moshe recounts the events surrounding the Golden Calf, and he describes the guilt of the people as “but you rebelled against the word (“vatamru et pi”) of God your Lord, and did not have faith in Him (“lo he’emantem lo”) or obey Him.
To summarize, using the Hebrew verbs describing Moshe’s and Aharon’s guilt:
At the incident with the rock - lo he’emantem and l’hakdisheini, though the latter seems to be countered by v’y’kadesh bam
Aharon’s death – m’ritem et pi
Moshe’s first direct accusation of non-compliance other than the actual event, when he was told he could not bring the nation into the land – m’ritem pi and l’hakdisheini
Moshe reminding the people of their sin at Golden Calf – vatamru and lo he’emantem
Our parsha – m’altem bi and lo kidashtem oti
It is also noteworthy that until now Moshe has been told he will not bring the people to the land (Bamidbar 20:12), and that he will see the land and then die (Bamidbar 27:13). Both options leave open the possibility that he will enter the land as a private citizen (leader emeritus, perhaps) and that he can die shortly after he sees the land for himself, even from the inside. Only in our parsha, Devarim 32:52, is Moshe finally told point-blank, you will not be going into the land (in Devarim 1:37, Moshe says he was told he will not enter the land, but we never saw God actually tell him that). In Devarim 3:27, Moshe reported that God said “you will not be crossing the Jordan” – but Moshe still had hopes that he while he might not enter the Land alive, he would be buried in the Land. The idea of seeing the land from a distance and being buried outside the land is clarified for Moshe immediately before he dies, in Devarim 34:4.
So what is going on? Why do the reasons for not entering the land differ from explanation to explanation, and from person to person?
Abravanel’s approach to the punishment meted to Aharon and Moshe pins their non-entry status on the Golden Calf and the Spies incidents, respectively. He explains God’s constant reference to the Rock incident as a cover for the real reasons, to avoid embarrassment. But the Rock episode was very mild in comparison to those other nation-shattering events. [He compares this to the mystery surrounding the deaths of Nadav and Avihu. The Torah gives us very sketchy information, while the rabbis heap a slew of accusations upon the lads, indicating the real reason for their deaths was hidden by the Torah, as it was pinned on a minor violation.]
Considering that the verse tells us in Bamidbar 20:13 (Rock incident) that God was nonetheless sanctified, it is hard to imagine that they failed to cause the people to have faith in God there. Therefore the “lo heemantem” must be linked to the other time it appears, Devarim 9:23, referring to the Sin of the Golden Calf, when the people indeed lost their faith in God. Interestingly, Moshe reports about Aharon’s death there in 10:6, after recounting how he brought down the second Tablets, even though Aharon’s death occurred 40 years later.
The act of “Me’i’lah,” of which Moshe is accused in our parsha, refers to using something holy for a mundane act. Reading Devarim 1:19-38, it is clear that the holiness of the Land was rejected for mundane reasons by the people. Additionally, they are accused of “vatamru et pi Hashem” (rebelling against God) in Devarim 1:26, smack in the middle of the description of the Spies story. And, most obviously, Moshe attaches his non-entry to the land to this incident (1:37)
There are certainly eyebrow raising details in the Rock story of Bamidbar 20. But all told, God’s name IS sanctified there – as the verse plainly states – and the rebellion of Moshe and Aharon, the misuse of something holy, and the causing a lack of faith are simply not present. Those accusations refer to these other incidents of the Spies and Golden Calf.
Referring specifically to our Parsha, Abravanel says the following, as he utilizes a creative reading to understand the text: “There are two reasons attached to the deaths of Moshe and Aharon. An impersonal one – Mei Meribah (the Rock incident), and a personal one, their earlier sins [of Golden Calf and Spies]. For both of those they are accused of “Me’i’lah,” (using holy for mundane purposes), not sanctifying, rebelling, etc… Aharon had the opportunity to sanctify God’s Name through giving up his life in place of succumbing to making the Golden Calf. This is his special mitzvah, (Vayikra 22:32) to sanctify God’s Name and not desecrate it…. Moshe rebelled and caused lack of faith first when he added to questions for what the spies should be looking for, all of which caused the people not to have faith that the Land to which they were going was a good land.”
We now understand why the accusation hurled at Moshe in our parsha does not reflect what happened in Bamidbar 20. The Rock incident was minor and was a cover to shield Moshe and Aharon from more embarrassing episodes in their lives.
Even at the final hour, when there’s nothing to lose from getting everything out on the table, God still chooses to go the route of not embarrassing His most beloved Moshe. What a lesson in piety and respect in seeing that a person’s worth and dignity is worth preserving through death!
Showing posts with label sanctifying God's name. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sanctifying God's name. Show all posts
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Thursday, May 7, 2015
The Desecration of the Tell-All Essay
Parshat Emor
by Rabbi Avi Billet
According to Rambam (Maimonides) in his Sefer Hamitzvot (book of Commandments), there are two mitzvot to be gleaned from the verse: “Do not desecrate My holy name. I must be sanctified among the Israelites. I am God [and] I am making you holy.” (Vayikra 22:32 )
The first is a negative commandment not to do anything to give God or His Torah a bad name (Negative Commandments #63), and the second is the mitzvah of Kiddush Hashem, to enhance the reputation of God and His Torah (Positive Commandment #9).
In his depiction of the positive commandment, Rambam brings examples from history that the ideal way to sanctify God’s name is to be willing and ready to die for the sake of His Name. Utilizing a lesson taught by the prophet Isaiah, Rambam writes, while referring to a period when enemies have dominance over the Jewish people and are murdering men, women and children that “[even] children should not fear death and should give up their lives, and publicize and strengthen their faith, and sanctify The Name before the masses.” I'll add that to get to such a level requires a very high level of education and connection to our faith that must be modeled for our children and lived by example day in and day out. Perhaps what we might call "living al Kiddush Hashem."
The commandment to avoid desecrating God’s name is what Rambam calls “the opposite of sanctifying God’s Name.” And it carries three possible forms of violation. First, that whoever is put into a position, under duress of an enemy nation, to violate any mitzvah in the Torah, or in times of peace to violate either the laws of murder, immorality and idolatry, must not succumb to the pressure to violate the law (this is the reverse of Positive Command #9).
This kind of violation (meaning if one does the sin anyway), however, is the most lenient, as it involves coercion or force. The person is not sinning out of desire to sin, but out of desire to stay alive.
The second kind of violation also does not come from desire to do the sin or the forbidden act. Rather it is an act of rebelliousness and the removal of the Heavenly yoke of responsibility. It’s not the sin itself which is the intent, but the motivation for the sin, such as perhaps to “spite God,” is a key factor.
The third type of violation is on a personal level, when an individual who has a stellar reputation does even a single act which is viewed by the masses as an “Aveirah” (sin), as an act which is not worthy of being respected. Even if the act turns out to be permissible, God’s Name could still be disgraced through the deed in question. An example cited by the Talmud is of a rabbi who takes a nice piece of meat from the butcher, but does not pay for it right away (this would not apply in a credit-card society). Another example: Cutting a line might not be illegal or a Torah prohibition, but it could very well be a chillul Hashem.
While we can all write essays about those that fall into the third category, it is the second category that is becoming more and more apparent in our “I have a blog world,” where every week (if not every day) another person comes out with an essay or a book on “why I left Orthodoxy.” Inevitably the person will write about certain things s/he loves about Orthodox Judaism, but how “I still can’t get over the contradictions.” The loudest ones are often ex-Hassidim who could not find another option under the tent of Orthodoxy (maybe they were always told that Modern Orthodoxy is not Jewish).
Most humorously, a person will make a claim such as “I went through 12 years of day school education, so I know all I need to know.” Or “For a long time I enjoyed the davening in our shul because it’s spiritual. But now it’s empty to me.”
With all respect to our yeshiva and day school system, products of it do not “know everything they need to know.” And davening in shul is not meant to be “spiritual because there is singing.”
We can all name Torah giants who passed away in the last few years. Rabbis Yosef S. Elyashiv, Ovadia Yosef, and more recently Shmuel Wozner and Aharon Lichtenstein. These leaders knew all there is to know, and they never stopped learning.
Prayer is not supposed to be spiritual because there is singing. It is the individual’s responsibility to tap into the words one is saying, have them enter the heart, and impact one’s soul.
More importantly, as Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein was famous for saying, it is OK to live with questions. We don’t have all the answers, and maybe we never will have all the answers. But just because a couple of things bother someone does not mean it is OK to air your personal dirty laundry on the Huffington Post.
“My story must be heard!” Actually, it need not be heard. Your story and your personal “crisis of faith” (which is not really a crisis, but is just your own baggage) is only a chillul Hashem, a desecration of God’s name.
Let us all become more knowledgable and more in touch with our faith so we can always be a source of Kiddush Hashem, of sanctifying God’s Holy Name. And then, we will happily read your tale of triumph over adversity in the Huffington Post.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
According to Rambam (Maimonides) in his Sefer Hamitzvot (book of Commandments), there are two mitzvot to be gleaned from the verse: “Do not desecrate My holy name. I must be sanctified among the Israelites. I am God [and] I am making you holy.” (Vayikra 22:32 )
The first is a negative commandment not to do anything to give God or His Torah a bad name (Negative Commandments #63), and the second is the mitzvah of Kiddush Hashem, to enhance the reputation of God and His Torah (Positive Commandment #9).
In his depiction of the positive commandment, Rambam brings examples from history that the ideal way to sanctify God’s name is to be willing and ready to die for the sake of His Name. Utilizing a lesson taught by the prophet Isaiah, Rambam writes, while referring to a period when enemies have dominance over the Jewish people and are murdering men, women and children that “[even] children should not fear death and should give up their lives, and publicize and strengthen their faith, and sanctify The Name before the masses.” I'll add that to get to such a level requires a very high level of education and connection to our faith that must be modeled for our children and lived by example day in and day out. Perhaps what we might call "living al Kiddush Hashem."
The commandment to avoid desecrating God’s name is what Rambam calls “the opposite of sanctifying God’s Name.” And it carries three possible forms of violation. First, that whoever is put into a position, under duress of an enemy nation, to violate any mitzvah in the Torah, or in times of peace to violate either the laws of murder, immorality and idolatry, must not succumb to the pressure to violate the law (this is the reverse of Positive Command #9).
This kind of violation (meaning if one does the sin anyway), however, is the most lenient, as it involves coercion or force. The person is not sinning out of desire to sin, but out of desire to stay alive.
The second kind of violation also does not come from desire to do the sin or the forbidden act. Rather it is an act of rebelliousness and the removal of the Heavenly yoke of responsibility. It’s not the sin itself which is the intent, but the motivation for the sin, such as perhaps to “spite God,” is a key factor.
The third type of violation is on a personal level, when an individual who has a stellar reputation does even a single act which is viewed by the masses as an “Aveirah” (sin), as an act which is not worthy of being respected. Even if the act turns out to be permissible, God’s Name could still be disgraced through the deed in question. An example cited by the Talmud is of a rabbi who takes a nice piece of meat from the butcher, but does not pay for it right away (this would not apply in a credit-card society). Another example: Cutting a line might not be illegal or a Torah prohibition, but it could very well be a chillul Hashem.
While we can all write essays about those that fall into the third category, it is the second category that is becoming more and more apparent in our “I have a blog world,” where every week (if not every day) another person comes out with an essay or a book on “why I left Orthodoxy.” Inevitably the person will write about certain things s/he loves about Orthodox Judaism, but how “I still can’t get over the contradictions.” The loudest ones are often ex-Hassidim who could not find another option under the tent of Orthodoxy (maybe they were always told that Modern Orthodoxy is not Jewish).
Most humorously, a person will make a claim such as “I went through 12 years of day school education, so I know all I need to know.” Or “For a long time I enjoyed the davening in our shul because it’s spiritual. But now it’s empty to me.”
With all respect to our yeshiva and day school system, products of it do not “know everything they need to know.” And davening in shul is not meant to be “spiritual because there is singing.”
We can all name Torah giants who passed away in the last few years. Rabbis Yosef S. Elyashiv, Ovadia Yosef, and more recently Shmuel Wozner and Aharon Lichtenstein. These leaders knew all there is to know, and they never stopped learning.
Prayer is not supposed to be spiritual because there is singing. It is the individual’s responsibility to tap into the words one is saying, have them enter the heart, and impact one’s soul.
More importantly, as Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein was famous for saying, it is OK to live with questions. We don’t have all the answers, and maybe we never will have all the answers. But just because a couple of things bother someone does not mean it is OK to air your personal dirty laundry on the Huffington Post.
“My story must be heard!” Actually, it need not be heard. Your story and your personal “crisis of faith” (which is not really a crisis, but is just your own baggage) is only a chillul Hashem, a desecration of God’s name.
Let us all become more knowledgable and more in touch with our faith so we can always be a source of Kiddush Hashem, of sanctifying God’s Holy Name. And then, we will happily read your tale of triumph over adversity in the Huffington Post.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Moshe's Bumper Sticker
Parshat Korach
by Rabbi Avi Billet
An unofficial theme of
the book of Bamidbar is that the string of narratives are connected
thematically. The most quoted example of this is the first critique given to
the spies of Parshat Shlach, who did not learn from the episode of Miriam's
tale-bearing punishment. After seeing what happened to her for speaking about
Moshe, they did not check themselves before speaking ill of the land they had
scouted.
I think a similar lesson can be applied to the Korach narrative – from the
perspective of the leadership.
Throughout the Torah, whenever people did something wrong or complained and
triggered God's anger, Moshe was always the stalwart defender, telling God a
thing or two about the leadership role he has accepted (to bring these people
as far as he can) versus the one he has not accepted (to watch them all die as
a new nation is created from Moshe).
Through it all, Moshe has averted a few disasters and has saved countless
lives. This is why it is decidedly odd that Moshe says the second half of his
final challenge to Korach and company. "If you die a natural death, God
did not send me. But if a creation is created and the ground opens up and
swallows them up and they go down, alive, to Sheol, then you know they have
challenged God."
How could Moshe offer two options for death – natural or supernatural? Is there
no room for teshuvah (repentance)? What happened to the ultimate defender, who
views life as the most precious gift? Could it be, perhaps, that Moshe is
taking Korach's challenges as a personal affront (as well he should!) and he is
taking revenge in the most spiteful we he could? היתכן - Is this possible?
If we look back at the two most recent narratives in the Torah – the spies and
the wood gatherer – we see people being punished with death on account of their
actions. And, in both cases, the view from the top is the same.
Rabbenu Bachaye posits that Moshe took the stance against God in defense of the
people when he said, "Egypt Egypt
Similarly, Rabbenu Bachaye addresses the wood-gatherer story using a literal
interpretation of the word used to describe his action, "M'koshesh," (מקושש) as opposed to "M'laket" (מלקט) (which mean the same thing, but the former is
normally used to describe a gathering of straw, while the latter is normally
used to describe the gathering of wood), to suggest that in his
Shabbat-desecrating activities the wood-gatherer was denying God and the Six
Days of Creation and was thus desecrating God's name in the worst possible way.
If we can say about Moshe that his personal bumper sticker was
"Desecrating God's Name Stops Here!" then we can begin to understand
why Korach was doomed (as were Datan and Aviram) once the challenge to Moshe
and Aharon is understood for what it really was: a challenge to God, and a
desecration of God's Name. In 16:5-11 and 16:28 -30, Moshe makes it
clear that this is not about him. This is all about God. It is only about God.
The Kli Yakar points out the use of the words "Briah yivra" – if a
creation is created, which is reminiscent of the account of Creation in the
Torah. Stringing together two thoughts which appear in Pirkei Avot, he suggests
that they were denying God's role in the world. Firstly, the mouth of the earth
was created in the final hours of the Six Days of Creation (Avot 5:6) – a
denial of this is a denial of Creation. Secondly, they did not
want any leader, for they
thought “all of the people are holy, and God is among them – so why should you
raise yourself over God’s people?” The anarchist's view contradicts the mishnah
(Avot 3:2) that says "Were it not for fear (of a king), men would swallow
their friends alive."
For
Moshe, the writing was so clearly on the wall that he did not need to do much.
He had learned the lesson of the previous stories, and Korach and all the
followers received the punishment that followed the recently confirmed
precedents – the "measure for measure" for anarchists is that the
ground swallowed them alive.
The
relevant lesson for us is threefold:
- Remember, as always, that the most regular affirmation of our appreciation of Creation comes from a commitment to Shabbos.
- We must defend against the desecration of God's name as best we can.
- We must strive to sanctify God's name in all that we do.
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