Is Death Always a Punishment?

Parshat Shmini

by Rabbi Avi Billet

One of the more fascinating, albeit tragic, tales in the Torah surrounds the deaths of Aharon’s two oldest sons, Nadav and Avihu. The Torah records the incidence of their death four times (Vayikra 10:1, 16:1, Bamidbar 3:4, 26:61) and it is also mentioned in Divrei Hayamim I 24:2. In all of the Torah’s mentions of the incident it ties their deaths to their coming close or bringing close to God (בקרבתם לפני ה') while some of these also mention the “strange fire” that they used. The Divrei HaYamim verse and the first Bamidbar verse also connects the depiction of their being dead to their not having children. 

 What the Torah does not do is elaborate much more on the episode, leaving much unsaid, focusing more on the reality (that they are deceased) and the narrative which follows their deaths, which includes the need to continue to get the Mishkan running in this Eighth Day, the day of the Inauguration of the Tent of Meeting. 

 Did they sin? 

On a very simple level, the Torah says they did something they were not commanded to do. Moshe’s immediate response to their deaths is “this is what God said would happen – ‘With those closes t to Me I will be sanctified’” – which is a way of suggesting that this was God’s way of bringing a special sanctification to this moment. In fact, the Torah Shleimah records a passage suggesting that a reason Nadav and Avihu brought the strange fire was because they saw all the Korbanot bringing brought and they didn’t see God’s fire coming down as promised. This would suggest that they were already putting their scheme in place to “help” at the time the last verse in Chapter 9 took place, and they may have missed the fire coming down to consume the offering. 

Further, Rav Kasher writes, “Nadav turned to Avihu and said, ‘Does a person ever cook without a fire?’ and so they brought fire into the innermost area. God said to them, ‘I will honor you more than you honored Me. You brought in an impure fire. I will consume you with a pure fire.” 

This “honoring” Nadav and Avihu is a unique perspective (though shared by Moshe Rabbenu!) because it is anathema to the way we are trained to think. Of course we are sad when someone we know or someone we love passes away. We will miss the person terribly! 

But can we ever presume to know the ways of God? 

 The Rabbis scoured the text of the Torah and suggested a number of reasons Nadav and Avihu died – including that they died because they saw God in chapter 24, as punishment to Aharon for his role in the Golden Calf, for their disrespect towards Moshe and Aharon, wondering aloud when the two old men would die so they could take over (as if!), and that they were either drunk, wearing the wrong clothes, deciding laws for themselves, not seeking advice from Moshe and Aharon, because they did not have children, or because they entered the Holy of Holies. 

To the last one – did they? Seforno and other are of the belief that לפני ה' does not mean specifically entering the Holy of Holies, and that while they were inside the Mishkan, they did not enter the forbidden inner sanctum. 

 Most of those suggestions are based in other Pesukim that give warnings to the Kohanim as to what their Mishkan-conduct is supposed to look like. However, never does it say in the text that they did any of these things, nor is the word Sin (חטא) ever associated with them in the Torah. So while the suggestions may be compelling, in the end all we really have is that God took them as they brought the strange fire. Which leads to a follow up question. 

 Is that a terrible crime that is deserving of death in the realm of punishment? 

 There is no way to answer that question as that is in the realm of what God may decide and is beyond our comprehension. However, we may wonder if they had been warned yet that doing any of these behaviors would bring about a negative repercussion. It is unfair to punish someone for a crime that had never been declared a crime. 

While there is much to focus on if indeed they were guilty of all or some of those errors, the fact that the Torah doesn’t make the connection speaks volumes about what they DID versus what they did NOT. 

 Which brings us back to where we started. Did they sin? Was their death a punishment? To whom? To them? To their father and mother? To their siblings? 

Death isn’t always a punishment. Look at the end of the mortal life of Hanokh in Parshat Bereshit, and Eliyahu as he ascends to the heavens in a chariot of fire. Look at Lemech’s and Methselach’s deaths before the Flood. Look at Avraham’s death 5 years “early” as a mercy so he shouldn’t see Eisav go off on a bad path. [See the comments for a comment of Seforno on B'haaloskha]

 Imagine people we know who were suffering and their suffering ended with their deaths. Imagine an innocent soul being taken by God through illness or accident. Or a baby who dies around the time it is born or shortly afterwards. 

We don’t have answers – we just have a life we aim to make sense of, and to do our best to find meaning in it. 

 We never want to think a person died as a punishment for their deeds, so why should we ascribe such a thought to Nadav and Avihu. 

If Moshe Rabbenu said they died because God was sanctifying the Mishkan it means God viewed them as the purest people, and God desired their souls for Himself because their lives had achieved their purpose in life and it was time for their souls to go on to the next stage of its journey.

Moshe Rabbenu – Always Growing and Modeling Improving Oneself

Parshat Tzav 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 Reading carefully through Vayikra Chapter 8, one discovers that basically all of the service that is done is accomplished through the capable hands of… Moshe. Not Aharon, not Aharon’s sons (the Kohanim). 

Of course, this is certainly understandable as the whole series of procedures is meant to inaugurate Aharon and sons into their new status and their positions as Kohanim. Nothing is more clear about that than verse 8:33 in which Aharon and sons are instructed not to leave the Mishkan for a 7-day period. This is the time of their full-blown-consecration, so there they must be. (Ibn Ezra and Chizkuni note that they must have been able to step out to take care of bodily functions and that their presence there was not a full-blown confinement or quarantine – it was simply meant to help them keep focus on where they were and what they were supposed to be achieving in that space.)

Moshe’s role, however, seems out of character. Meaning, if Moshe were to be the Kohen Gadol, or A Kohen Gadol (sharing the position with Aharon) it would almost make sense, perhaps in a manner similar to how the Parah Adumah ashes would work – those who would handle it, bringing purity to others, would end up becoming tamei until the evening – that Moshe should be able to fill this role, but once the inaugural period is over, he’d return to his regular status.

Since prior to this inauguration time there was no Kohen, how could Aharon and sons become Kohanim through the agency of a Kohen? Clearly that would be impossible! Comes Moshe Rabbenu… and the rest is history…

How does that work?

In general, the role of the Kohen is one of higher sanctification. Subsequent to the consecration of Aharon and Sons to the positions of Kohen, their future generations would not need the consecration as it would become genetic. But the sanctification component of simply being a Kohen would become a calling for every Kohen in every generation. How does a Kohen fill a role he is born into, with dignity, class, and of course, with the proper spiritual mettle? 

This is where Moshe Rabbenu comes in, serving as a model for all time. The Midrash tells us (Vayikra Raba 11:6) that Moshe served as Kohen Gadol not only these 7 days, but also for all 40 years in the wilderness. This, of course, doesn’t follow what the Torah tells us, but it is based in the verse we say on Friday nights in Kabbalas Shabbos – משה ואהרן בכהנו – which indicate an equality between the brothers in Kehunah. At the same time, the Talmud (Taanis 11b) has students of Mar Ukva posing him a question as to what clothing Moshe wore during this time? The Talmud’s conclusion is that he wore a white tunic that had no hems or seams – not his regular clothing, and not clothing on par or in equivalence with that of his brother. 

No matter how we look at Moshe’s role, we can take a valuable lesson from how Moshe went about his business in this parsha.

 If someone is going to play this particular role of being the anointer of the Kohanim, presumably this person will have to be on a level that is worthy of casting such holiness upon them. There is none more worthy than Moshe Rabbenu, of course, but we can certainly ask how we can know that unequivocally. What would have been the criteria to be the anointer and appointer of the Kohanim? 

 In particular through the aftermath of the Golden Calf we see Moshe Rabbenu rise in stature in the way people did not see and could not discern prior to those events. Certainly Moshe had achieved powerful moments of respect and awe in Egypt (Shmos 11:3) and after the splitting of the sea (14:31) but when he was on top of the mountain, people referred to him as זה מה האיש – this man Moshe, seemingly not such a respectful tone – we don’t know what became of him! 

 In retrospect, between Moshe’s time on the mountain AND the events which followed the Golden Calf there was a switch in how people perceived him, between his tent becoming the makeshift Ohel Moed, his face shining, his breaking the Tablets and getting a “Yasher Koach” from God, he is miles ahead of where any other person can possibly be, and therefore ready to be the one consecrating the Kohanim. 

The question we are tasked with is, how could we possibly achieve a similar status?

 Of course the circumstances are quite different. None of us will have a 40 days (or 120 day) chavrusa with God. None of us will preside over a makeshift Mishkan, or bring Tablets down from Mt. Sinai. 

 But we can dedicate ourselves wholly to the Almighty. We can aim to learn from Moshe’s teachings, which all emanate from the Torah he gave to us through God’s hand. We can challenge ourselves to live lives of holiness. And who knows? Is it farfetched to think that these efforts would pay off in our own development were we to grasp the challenge and run with it? 

 הרצים יצאו דחופים בדבר המלך – we just read in the Megillah that the runners ran out hurriedly on the king’s instruction. There is a tradition that when the word המלך appears in the Megillah, we are to imagine that it refers to the King of Kings. We have our challenges before us, our job in life to always be aiming higher in our service of the Almighty, to take the challenge and run with it.

 According to the Talmud, Moshe was able to serve as an erstwhile Kohen Gadol because he had achieved greatness in his life. At the same time, he wasn’t a complete Kohen Gadol with the proper vestments, because not even Moshe Rabbenu can get to such a position. But Moshe was uniquely suited for the task at hand of inaugurating and anointing his brother and nephews because of the things he had personally achieved in his own life. 

We too can achieve greatness. We know what our job is in our service of God. Some of us work at it more, and some perhaps less than we are capable of. May we learn from and emulate Moshe Rabbenu, who even after all he had achieved, always saw that he was incomplete and always aimed a little higher and to do a little more, constantly improving on himself so that, to use our Parsha’s example, he could anoint the Kohanim, even if he would or could never fully be a Kohen himself, complete in the manner that his brother Aharon was destined to become.

How Korbanos Can Very Much Be Part of Our Lives

Parshat Vayikra 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 This week we are introduced to Vayikra and the sacrificial order. 

 In chapter 4, the instruction comes from God that Moshe is to tell the people “If a נפש (literally ‘a soul,’ though sometimes it simply means ‘a person’) sins accidentally, [doing] one of the [negative] mitzvoth of God that one should not do…” that there is a procedure to follow to achieve atonement. 

 Alshikh explains that the intent of the Torah through this statement is to tell someone of the proper thought process to be experienced. “Don’t think, ‘what have I done? How will my sin be counted? I never intended to sin or to rebel against God.’ The person needs to understand that when this accidental sin happens, there is a flaw in the person’s soul on account of some other sin the person has committed, or even from an errant thought a person has had. The person who is sinless doesn’t come to commit sins by accident, for ‘even the animals of the righteous don’t come to do anything wrong’ (Hullin7a), so certainly the righteous themselves don’t sin accidentally. It is thus because a person sinned through doing a mitzvah one isn’t supposed to do (ie violate a negative commandment) that one becomes prone to committing a sin by accident.” 

In the Rav Peninim Chumash, the editors go on to ask what the purpose of Korbanos was. Quoting Abravanel, the suggestion is made that one reason for Korbanos was to put in check the accidental sinner who is simply not careful, or is actually careless! Being, for most people, a serious financial commitment, the korban aims to hit the person in the pocket to remind the person to be more careful in the future, and to thus avoid the kinds of circumstance that cause the individual to sin. 

 An individual who becomes טמא, in many cases is a person who isn’t careful about the rules of Tumah and Tahara. But someone who takes upon himself to be careful about that – such as a נזיר – and nevertheless becomes טמא is a person who falls into the category of נפש כי תחטא, a soul who has veered from a proper parth. 

 To turn one’s activities in the opposite direction, the Rabbis taught זריזות מביא לידי זהירות, זהירות מביא לידי טהרה, טהרה מביא לידי קדושה, or “Alacrity leads to being careful, being careful leads one to purity, and purity brings one to holiness.” 

 This approach suggests that, at least from one perspective, the sacrificial order is one that is meant to give a person pause to think about what it means to create this kind of connection with God. Certainly not all Korbanos (offerings, sacrifices) come from a place of sin – there were Korbanos for holidays and special occasions, as well as daily offerings in Temple times, which indicate it’s not only about sin offerings and guilt offerings. 

 For us, Korbanos still play a central role in our synagogue service, between the many Torah readings (including many holiday readings and Maftirs) that remind us of Korbanos, as well as the first part of davening that is actually referred to as “Korbanos,” we certainly have regular (think of Shabbos and Yom Tov Mussaf services), even daily reminders of what we are missing. Of course, our daily reminder is a fulfillment of the phrase from Hoshea 14:3 ונשלמה פרים שפתינו, that we “pay” for the bull (offerings) through the words that come out of our lips. 

 This teaches us a few important lessons. 

1. Korbanos as part of our davening is quite significant. They should not be rushed through or skipped. The Talmud even says that when we read all of Korbanos God considers it is as if we have brought them all and to those who recite them He grants forgiveness for their sins. (Taanis 27b) There is a perspective in Halakha that if one only has time for one – either reading Korbanos or Pesukei D’Zimrah – that Korbanos should take precedence. 

2. We have to imagine that we have penalties built into the lives we live when we make errors. Some people may make a public apology or admission and suffer embarrassment in this world. Others will take a self-imposed financial hit through giving a penalty to tzedakah for violating a sin. 

3. The idea of using Korbanos as a tool to get close to God (קרבן and קרוב are quite related) is something we should not dis-count or push aside. 

There are many mitzvos associated with Korbanos, as noted by the Sefer HaChinukh every time a new Korban is mentioned in the Torah, and while we don’t bring the Korban physically in the absence of the Beis HaMikdash, the thought processes and devotions attached to the bringing of these Korbanos can certainly be part of our experience should we choose to make it such. 

In short, Korbanos as an experience is meant to inject an awareness of finding meaning in life. Whether we look at it from the perspective of devotion to God, financial penalty for wayward behavior, or even a concept of how the bringing of the animal itself brings about atonement, we can tap into such concepts in our own lives and experience. 

When thinking of the positive things in our lives that would warrant a Korban, we can donate to Tzedakah in lieu of bringing a Korban. When thinking of incidents we regret in our behaviors and activities, we can think of donating to a different Tzedakah, based on a self-imposed penalty that will remind us that the donations in that direction are on account of vices that we can’t seem to overcome. When we simply want to demonstrate our general devotion to God, as many of us do daily, we can pay special attention to the Korbanos in our davening, and make a commitment to say every word, not rushing through them, as this is our way of essentially visiting or participating in the activities of the Beis Hamikdash with regularity. 

May our lips indeed replace the bulls and other animals as our offerings to God, and may we merit to serve Him in the most ideal way when the Beis HaMikdash is once again rebuilt.

Doing Our Part So God Does the Rest of Our Part

Parshat (Eileh) Fekudei 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 As news emerges from the Ukraine region and as we see our brothers and sisters fleeing for safety, it is hard to imagine that this is real. It is certainly a familiar playbook we have seen before, but we just don’t imagine it taking place in our “modern” and “civilized” and “post-war” world. 

It certainly is a different world for the Jewish people than in other times in our history. It doesn’t seem that Jews are specifically being targeted, and, of course, there is a Jewish state which can absorb Jews who need to find a home to replace their own, certainly temporarily or even if permanently. All that is encouraging, and yet the reality many people there are facing gives us 3 options. 

1. Donate to a cause that will help with the evacuation expenses, procuring food and water, and helping our fellow Jews get to a safe place 

2. Pray for their safety and for the end to the unrest 

3. Lobby and be politically active to push the right people to do the right things 

For most of us, the first two items are certainly much easier. Thankfully there are many people on all sides who are on board with our shared goals of ending fighting, bombing, bloodshed, which can mean that we can focus on the first two items – trusting that larger umbrella organizations such as OU, Agudah, Aish, etc. will utilize the funds and donations in a manner which is most productive. 

May Hashem save and protect the innocent, punish the guilty, and see all through to a conclusion that brings a peaceful and safe existence for all – soldiers and civilians alike. לא ישא גוי אל גוי חרב ולא ילמדו עוד מלחמה. 

 Rashi tells us at the end of chapter 39 that when all the work for the Mishkan was completed and everything had been brought before Moshe for the final assembly, when Moshe blessed the people (39:43) he said, “May it be [His] will that the divine presence (Shechinah) should rest in that which your hands have made.” This was followed by the verse at the end of Tehillim 90 (the one which begins with the words תפילה למשה) 

17And may the pleasantness of the Lord our God be upon us, and the work of our hands establish for us, and the work of our hands establish it. יזוִיהִ֚י נֹ֨עַם | אֲ-דֹנָ֥י אֱ-לֹק֗ינוּ עָ֫לֵ֥ינוּ וּמַֽעֲשֵׂ֣ה יָ֖דֵינוּ כּֽוֹנְנָ֣ה עָלֵ֑ינוּ וּמַֽ֘עֲשֵׂ֥ה יָ֜דֵ֗ינוּ כּֽוֹנְנֵֽהוּ: 

Of course, this sentiment is one which God had established at the very beginning of the instructions for the Mishkan when He declared ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם – and you/they shall make for Me a Sanctuary and I will dwell in them. 

 Which leads to a question of semantics in the text. Earlier in chapter 39, we see the following statement at the end of 39:32: “וַֽיַּעֲשׂוּ֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל כְּ֠כֹל אֲשֶׁ֨ר צִוָּ֧ה יְקֹוָ֛ק אֶת־מֹשֶׁ֖ה כֵּ֥ן עָשֽׂוּ” – the children of Israel did all that God commanded Moshe, so they did. &&&&&&& Why does the Torah tell us twice – in the same verse! – that they did this work? 

Rabbi Shternbuch explained that there are two kinds of instructions that Moshe received. The first was the technical information, the blueprint for how each item was to be made, the dimensions, the necessary craftsmanship needed for the different tasks, the kinds of accounting needed, etc. The second consisted of all the proper kavvanot, intentions and thought processes required to bring about the desired result, which was to cause the Divine Presence, in the form of the Shechina, to enter the Mishkan. 

 The first instruction was readily shared and relatively easy to follow in the sense that anyone who understands craftsmanship or building can follow technical instructions. But Moshe wasn’t so easily giving over the proper intentions people should have, partly because it isn’t as easy to give over, and partly because intentions are very personal and can not easily be conveyed or made uniform across all those working on a project. 

 And so the verse is telling us that through their following the technical side of construction, their kavvanah ended up being what God had instructed to Moshe. Or, as Rav Shternbuch put it, “Through their combining the proper kavvanot with those of Moshe’s, the work was completed, and they were thus ready for the divine presence to fill the space.” 

We don’t always know how things will work out. In whatever efforts we make we hope for Divine assistance to carry us the rest of the way. 

 There are people who put much investment in a simcha, and when it’s over wonder where the time went and if the cost was worth it. Others focus on making it a meaningful, spiritual and educational experience, and walk away so elated by what was achieved that they can only point to God carrying them to places they never could have imagined.

 The same is true for all efforts. Davening can be rote and often (sadly) meaningless, or a person can make the effort to bring God in only to find God standing next to the person throughout the experience. Some rely on doctors for all medical advice and care. Others know that doctors are merely tools of the Almighty, and they include Tefillah and Tz’akah as part of the regimen of the healing. When we give tzedakah, we know our money is going to a destination. We trust that our efforts will be taken up by God so they be directed in the manner most appropriate. 

And the same holds true for outcomes in war and the uncertainty that accompanies it. We can do whatever we think is in our power to do, but what makes for the outcomes that are most fulfilling are when we include the thought that God is in charge and it is His will which will decide what will eventually happen, so we communicate Him to do the right thing for all. 

For the Bnei Yisrael, they did what Moshe told them, and they also did what Moshe neglected to tell them, intuiting that they needed Divine assistance beyond the gifts of craftsmanship they had been given by God. And it worked out in the end, because the blessing Moshe gave them came true, as demonstrated at the end of the parsha when the Divine Presence descended and filled the Mishkan. 

May we merit to see the Divine Presence guiding the world in the right direction, as we continue to do our part to get us in the most deserving space we can be in, for ourselves and for all of Acheinu Kol Beis Yisrael.

Wisdom of the Heart = Intelligence + Motivation + Divine Assistance

Parshat Vayakhel

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There is a unique expression utilized several times in the Torah surrounding the creation of the Mishkan – חכם לב or חכמת לב. The first phrase references an individual who is “wise of the heart” while the second phrase references the “wisdom of the heart” that the person will either be gifted or already possesses. 

Certainly when we think of learning any trade in antiquity, we tend to imagine far less than a trade school: either apprenticeships or simply learning on the job. In either case, someone with a little ambition and a demonstrable readiness to learn could easily be taken under the wing of a willing teacher or professional who would train the novice in a particular skill or trade.

Having read a few Holocaust memoirs of late, it was apparently common for individuals to claim to be builders or craftsmen, the kind that might benefit the Nazi-efforts, for the purpose of staying alive. Once assigned to a particular work detail, they’d quickly learn on the job. One survivor pinned his survival on picking up the skill so well that when he was transferred to a different camp, his claim of being a builder was actually scrutinized and he was able to demonstrate his adeptness, through the skills he had learned in the previous concentration camp. 

In Egypt, however, we imagine that the skills picked up in slavery probably focused on building (with brick and mortar) and possibly on farming agriculture, and not on skilled artisanry in the realm of weaving and smithing (gold, silver, copper). Where did they pick up the skills for the work necessary to make the vessels, curtains, and garments for the Mishkan? 

Netziv (Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin) has a number of comments specifically addressing how the people acquired these skills with Divine assistance. In 31:6, on the words “And in the hearts of all those ‘wise of heart’ I have placed wisdom” he writes, “on Brachot 55a they learn from this verse that God only gives wisdom to a person who already possesses wisdom (see also Daniel 2:21).” 

What kind of wisdom does a person already possess?

“There are two branches of wisdom: 

 A. Common sense and diligence 

B. Study and knowledge [of history]. 

 This is what Mishlei (4:7) means ‘The beginning of wisdom is acquisition of wisdom and with all your possession acquire understanding.’ The beginning of a person’s common sense comes from practicing what he has learned (similar to ‘practice what you preach’) First a person acquires an understanding of others, and then from all encounters one acquires understanding that raises an individual notch by notch. This is what the rabbis taught ‘A person should learn, and then explain…’ (ליגמר אינש והדר ליסבר) Through this he can help someone else who has sekhel, who knows how to guard his knowledge, so that the knowledge not be utilized in an unworthy direction.”

Wisdom is therefore a combination of nature plus experience. Experience is what helps a person utilize one’s wisdom and skills for good purposes, while not contributing to an environment in which said knowledge will be misused. 

Netziv continues: 

“But the phrase ‘every wise of heart’ is still difficult. The power of sekhel comes not from the heart but from the brain. Therefore “wise of heart” has two meanings: 

 A. Wisdom of fear of heaven. (see 28:3) 

 B. The strength of trust that he will receive the wisdom to complete the task at hand, even though he never learned the craft and never trained his hands for the job. (see 36:2) 

 Therefore, a person who is “Wise at heart” means he is God-fearing and trusting that I (God) gave him wisdom and capability.”

The idea that a person has faith that God will teach and provide the skill is certainly coming from a divine headspace, trusting that God will provide the ability no matter what. But does God really work or operate that way? 

Note his reference to 36:2! There Netziv has another lengthy comment which may clarify for us. There he tells us 

“the verse is telling us how it is possible to put wisdom in one’s heart. Everything is in the hands of heaven, except fear of heaven! That is why it says ‘Everything that moved his heart’ which includes the wisdom/confidence that he can fulfill the task and accept upon himself to come closer to the work, even though he never learned the trade. This is true of any secular line of work, when the heart needs to be attracted to it. This could refer to if someone wants to make a trade school to teach children a profession. He can bring many children, and give them a chance to decide what motivates them. Each says ‘I want to do this’ and this choice helps them pursue a line of training for years. With the Mishkan, things were done in such a way that a person could choose a profession without significant schooling – merely with help from God when one decides a specific field of focus.” 

Unlike in the memoirs mentioned above, Mishkan work is not about physical survival – a person can choose what kind of labor speaks to one’s heart. What is clear, however, is that labor is very important, and gives a person fulfillment. This may be one of the reasons why Shabbos is mentioned (yet again!) in the context of the Mishkan, simply to remind everyone that it is expected that we engage in labor for six days of the week, and to rest on the seventh. (Labor in our times can be defined very differently than in an agrarian society.)

Sha”ch on the Torah has this to add: 

“All the wise people came to do all the holy work. It does not say ‘[some of] the holy work’ but ‘all the holy work…’ which teaches us that each person knew how to do each job, but Moshe called them and saw (in Moshe’s own wisdom) who was a better weaver, or embroiderer, etc. This is what it means that each person was given a specific job – not that he was incapable of other jobs. This is what is meant by ‘a man from his work that they are doing’ when it should say ‘that he is doing.’ If it is meant to be plural, about what all of them are doing, why, then, does it say ‘from his work’? To teach us that as soon as each person began, the work itself would teach the individual (they received a calling). This should come as no surprise to us! God gave them wisdom to deal with animals as well, because as slaves, what did they know of anything other than hard labor, with mortar and bricks. All their artisan-skills and other survival skills came from God-granted wisdom.” 

We need many God-given gifts of wisdom today. The trick with anything that God gifts us is that we need to bring something to that gift-giving occasion. Whether it is our faith and trust in God, our general attitude of “we can accomplish,” or simply making an effort and asking God to carry us the rest of the way, it speaks to Man’s appreciation of the gift of life coming from a divine source that we want to a. get the most out of it, and b. put as much as we can into forging our own destiny because we know God has given us only one life to live. 

May we be blessed to live it to the maximum, always putting in our hishtadlus (effort) while falling back both on our innate God-given skills as well as our appreciation of His role in our lives, so we can look back at a life well lived and feel that we too are blessed to have become חכמי לב – people with a Divinely-graced wisdom because we did our part to build our own skills and talents trusting that God would take us the rest of the way.

Great Effort for a Great Reward - Getting to the Tent

Parshat Ki Tisa

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Following the episode of the Golden Calf, there are a number of scenes the Torah describes which demonstrate how Moshe Rabbenu is not only in a class of his own, but how his personal space becomes a beacon of Kedusha. Perhaps the most famous one is the final image in the Parsha, when Moshe descends from Mt. Sinai with the second set of Luchos, and his face is shining. Please note that the Torah describes the circumstance as קרן עור פני משה, which means “the skin on Moshe’s face shone.” The Hebrew word Or is spelled with a ע (עור = skin) and is not to be confused with the word אור, spelled with an א, which means light. In that tale, Moshe is described as communicating with the people and communicating with the Divine. The irony of the מסוה (commonly translated as mask) that he wore is that he only wore it when he was alone, but not when he was speaking to the people (as implied from 34:33) or communicating with God (34:34-5). 

Another circumstance in which Moshe finds himself being a repository of Kedusha is in chapter 33 when Moshe’s tent is taken outside of the camp, renamed אהל מועד (Tent of Meeting – an appellation elsewhere used to describe the Mishkan/Tabernacle), where he would receive all those who wanted to seek out God (see 33:7). Like the Mishkan (see the end of Chapter 40), a cloud demarcated the presence of the Divine in that particular space, helping people grasp the significance of that space.

What is the significance of Moshe’s taking his tent outside of the camp? Wasn’t Moshe already separate from the camp? See how the people are described as traveling in the beginning of the Book of Bamidbar, and we see how Moshe and Aharon had a very unique address, easily identifiable and easily found!

That last question is a straw-man argument, because the method of travel in that way, with Moshe, Aharon, and Aharon’s family being east of the Mishkan, was only possible after the construction of the Mishkan (which in our case hadn’t taken place yet), and when they were specifically traveling. At this stage, the people have been at Sinai for a few months and won’t be leaving until at least a month after the dedication of the Mishkan (Bamidbar 10:11). Therefore, where Moshe’s tent had been prior to it being taken out of the camp is anyone’s guess. 

Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch suggests that the reason Moshe’s tent needed to be brought outside the camp is to demonstrate that sometimes the idea of getting closer to God requires a person to take action, for people to make an extra effort to bring themselves closer to God. This goal can’t be achieved based on the viewpoint or the “emotional space inhabited” by a large group of people. What if those people are not where they need to be? What if their efforts to get close to God are limiting to themselves and to others who need more? 

People need to get close to Torah on Torah’s terms, not on the terms that people find to be sufficient for them. In the case of the general encampment post Golden Calf, the environment within the camp wasn’t conducive to the higher level of connection and engagement that those who were more sincere in their drive to get closer to God needed. 

He goes on to quote:

 Targum Yonatan – this space, the Ohel Moed, was for those who had done a complete Teshuvah, who had returned to God with all of their heart. Moshe was teaching them the ways of Teshuvah in his private Beis Medrash.

The Belzer Rebbe – This is a much higher level of Teshuvah, when a person needs to leave the comfort zone of one’s own home, to seek out and go out to Moshe’s Beis Medrash, to completely dedicate themselves to the study of Torah, which, as we know, brings atonement for sin (see Rosh Hashana 18a). Not only that, but the simple act of going out of the camp, in a manner mimicking the exit of the שעיר המשתלח/שעיר לעזאזל – the goat that was brought into the wilderness on Yom Kippur, brings about a similar result of atonement. 

 Different sources describe how that goat, in leaving the camp and going to its own final destination, brought about Teshuvah and atonement for those who had even been guilty of חיובי כריתות, negative deeds which would have caused their souls to be cut off from the people of Israel. 

 The message is quite simple – sometimes Teshuvah and Kapparah (repentance and atonement) can best be achieved through making the effort to go out and seek Torah study. And sometimes, not even on account of bad deeds, do we still need to worry that some people will find themselves separated from a community, with the everlasting hope that we can all be reunited.

We are at a fascinating juncture in our general experiences. Many people are much more intrigued to attend an educational film or a fascinating lecture (activities which have great learning potential and are not problematic per se) than to engage in a Torah study class. But if we truly believe the words we utter in our daily prayers – כי הם חיינו וארך ימינו – that the Torah is the source for our lives and our extended days, then it is up to us to challenge ourselves to also take advantage of Torah learning opportunities that take place outside of our home. 

 We have learned in the last 2 years that we can bring Torah into our homes through the Internet, whether through listening to recorded classes that may be days, months, or years old, or through participating in something in real time such as a livestream or Zoom. 

The Torah is teaching us that there is no comparison between Torah on those terms and Torah studied in person. For that, at the very least, we have Shabbos to be thankful for. In speaking to a colleague of a Conservative shul, it became clear that a beautiful benefit we have is that Shabbos (also discussed in our parsha at the end of Chapter 31) forced us to come back to shul very quickly. Since having shul online on Shabbos was never an option for us (thank God), we returned to davening and learning together on Shabbos at a much quicker timeline than non-Orthodox congregations who utilize Internet prayer services on Shabbos. And thank God, we are doing very well – people are coming to daven and learn together on Shabbos, as well as during the week. 

We can and should learn from the model that Moshe presented to the people, that the highest level of kedusha can be achieved when people have to make the effort to go out to the Ohel Moed even if/when it’s a little inconvenient to get to it. The things achieved in that space, after that effort, are of a greater caliber in Kedusha than going at things alone, and therefore help us better live up to the statement we live by that Torah study is the source of the length of our days. 

May we be blessed to continue to make that effort and to be blessed in kind that those efforts should reap the rewards we the Jewish people always hope for – to be able to serve God to the highest level we can achieve in the lives He blesses us to have, and to live our lives to the maximum in our pursuits of heavenly and spiritual growth.

Is God’s Presence Among Us Conditional?

Parshat Tetzaveh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

שמות פרק כט מה: וְשָׁ֣כַנְתִּ֔י בְּת֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל וְהָיִ֥יתִי לָהֶ֖ם לֵא-לֹהִֽים: 

מו: וְיָדְע֗וּ כִּ֣י אֲנִ֤י יְקֹוָק֙ אֱ-לֹ֣הֵיהֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצֵ֧אתִי אֹתָ֛ם מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם לְשָׁכְנִ֣י בְתוֹכָ֑ם אֲנִ֖י יְקֹוָ֥ק אֱ-לֹהֵיהֶֽם: 

Chapter 29 seemingly ends the instruction for the Mishkan with the following passages: “I will make My presence felt among the Israelites, and I will be a God for them. They will realize that I, God their Lord, brought them out of Egypt to make My presence felt among them. I am God their Lord.” Seemingly, because in chapter 30 we are still given instructions for the small Mizbeach and the Kiyor (washbasin), even though the passage noted clearly closes out the intent of the opening verse which described a purpose of the Mishkan – “ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם. You shall make me a Sanctuary, and I will dwell amongst you/them.” (Shmos 25:8) 

Using the same language, both the Pesikta (Lekach Tov) and Rashi suggest that the letter ל in the phrase לשכני בתוכם (in פסוק מו, verse 46 above) suggests that God is saying “I took them out of Egypt על מנת, on the condition that I will dwell among them.” This terminology is, at the very least, worthy of discussion. Could it possibly be that God took the Israelites out of Israel on this condition? 

Just for comparison, Rashbam uses the word כדי (in order to) dwell among them, while Ibn Ezra explains the passage a little differently using the word בעבור, so that they’ll make Me a Mishkan that I may dwell amongst them (see also Chizkuni). These latter interpretations don’t imply a condition as much as they imply intent for what will be an outcome of the Exodus. Ibn Ezra proves his point through comparing this outcome to the verse in Shmos 3:12 when God gives Moshe a sign that all this is real, as “When you take the Israelites out of Egypt you will serve God on this mountain.” 

 In his “Peirush HaKatzar” Ibn Ezra writes “I took them out to have them make Me (לעשות לי) a Mishkan and I will dwell among them. I will be a God to them, with faith of the heart, and they are obligated to serve Me.” 

 Ramban takes issue with Rashi’s interpretation of the ל in לשכני: 

“Rashi suggests a condition. But the prefix ל is not typically used for a condition. Perhaps the Pasuk is saying ‘They will know through my dwelling in their midst that I am Hashem their God Who took them out of Egypt. They will know My glory and will believe that it was I Who took them out from Egypt.’ Ramban brings 3 cases where a ל is used instead of a ב to prove his assertion against Rashi’s interpretation, then he approvingly quotes Ibn Ezra as noted above, “I brought them out of Egypt so that they’d make Me a Mishkan that I would dwell in their midst” 

Ramban continues: “and if this is correct then there is a great secret (סוד) here, For in the plain sense of things it would appear that [the dwelling of] the Divine Glory in Israel was to fulfill a want below, but it is not so. It fulfilled a want above, being rather similar in thought to that which Scripture states, Israel, in whom I will be glorified. (Yeshayahu 49:3). And Joshua said, [For when the Canaanites… hear of it… and cut off our name from the earth,] and what wilt Thou do for Thy Great Name?(Yehoshua 7:9). There are many verses which express this thought: He hath desired it [i.e., Zion] for His habitation; (Tehillim 132:13). Here I dwell; for I have desired it. (Tehillim 132:14). And it is further written, and I will remember the land.” 

The Mishkan, therefore, fulfills a higher purpose than simply having God dwell amongst the people. This kabbalistic exposition certainly does not agree with the implication that the Exodus’ was conditional for God to have a dwelling purpose on this earth. 

Rabbenu Bachaye goes so far to interpret the verse to mean “that the purpose of the Exodus was to bring about that God’s Shechinah would rest amongst the Jewish people.” Based on a verse in Hoshea 13:4, he further notes that “the whole Exodus was orchestrated in order for the first of the Ten Commandments, ‘I am the Lord your God, etc.,’ to be acknowledged by the Jewish people. This is the reason why the words מארץ מצרים appear in the middle of this verse.” 

He continues suggesting, based on a passage in Midrash Tehillim (114) in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, “the Israelites were redeemed from Egypt through the merit of the Tabernacle….The words אשר הוצאתי אותם may mean that the condition of taking the people out of Egypt had been in order for what is reported at the very end of the Book of Exodus to occur.” 

While the Panim Yafot (R Pinchas HaLevi Horowitz) sides with Ibn Ezra and Ramban, it is the Maharal, in his Gur Aryeh, who not only comes to Rashi’s defense, but also explains for us what he believes Rashi actually meant – not that על מנת means a condition, but that through על מנת Rashi was saying “You shouldn’t think that the MAIN reason for the Exodus was that the Mishkan should be built, but that A reason for the Exodus was so that God would have a place on earth in which to dwell His presence.” 

In other words, a goal of the Exodus was to achieve God’s having a dwelling place, which is not to say that the Exodus’ purpose was for God to have a dwelling place. 

This makes a lot of sense, especially when we consider that we no longer have a Mishkan or a Mikdash! Or HaChaim, for example, notes that God’s mentioning אֲנִ֤י יְקֹוָק֙ אֱ-לֹ֣הֵיהֶ֔ם twice in the verse is “to remind us that even when His presence is not directly seen or felt [due to the absence of a Mishkan, etc] He is still our God and we are His people.” (Rav SR Hirsch and Malbim write similar ideas.) 

Toppling the whole idea, Netziv notes the verse we say at the end of the 3rd paragraph of the Shema, אני ה' אלהיכם אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלהים, which implies that “I took you out of Egypt to be your God.” Following that grammar, the words here should be לשכון בתוכם – which would be much easier to understand in light of Maharal’s comment! So instead Netziv interprets לשכני to imply that God’s presence was already amongst the people in Egypt. It was God’s presence with Israel in Egypt which caused the Exodus! The verse is therefore saying, “I am Hashem their God who took them out of Egypt, so that My Presence can continue to be among them” because it was otherwise going to fade from their minds if they had continued to stay there. 

What we see from these varied explanations – all more grounded in trying to understand Rashi than in trying to explain the text – is that our continued remembrance of the Exodus, in one form or another, is what keeps God’s presence among us. If we are to truly live a Godly existence, it is our constant memory of the Exodus, and memorializing the Exodus, which brings God’s presence ever so much more easily felt in our daily lives. 

May we merit both to remember the Exodus, which is a mitzvah, and to thus merit to feel God’s presence regularly.