Parshas Chukas – Moshe’s egregious error was …

After the death of Miriam, there is no water for the Children of Israel and they complain bitterly to Moshe and Aaron (Numbers 20:2-5). God tells Moshe: “Take the staff and assemble the community, you and Aaron your brother, and speak to the rock in their presence and it will give forth water. And you shall bring forth for them water from the rock, and give to drink the community and the livestock.” (20:7). Moshe assembles the people, admonishes them by saying “Listen you rebels, can we take water from this rock?,” then hits the rock with his staff twice. Water rushes out and the community’s need for water is satiated. God is not pleased and states: “Because you did not believe in Me to sanctify Me in the presence of the Children of Israel, therefore you will not bring this congregation into the land I have given them.” (20: 10-12).  

What was Moshe’s sin, that necessitated such a harsh punishment? This question has bothered many commentators over the centuries. Rashi offers his view: had Moshe spoken with the rock and it produced water, the people would have been faced with a powerful moral lesson - if an inanimate object followed God’s will, rational and intelligent creatures are even more obligated to fulfill God’s commands. This example was lost when Moshe struck the rock. There are many other opinions on the matter.

Rabbi Shimson Raphael Hirsch offers an opinion on this question in the name of Chacham Bernays, which I find particularly insightful. According to this view the Jewish people were at a crossroads, poised to enter the land of Canaan and begin an entirely new phase of their relationship with God. In this phase the staff of God (representing open miracles) would be replaced with a focus on the word of God; no longer would the Jews rely solely on awe-inspiring feats that defied nature but, instead, they would need to abide by the commands of God and then He would steer events in their favor. By hitting the rock, Moshe failed to advance the Jewish people’s understanding of God to the next phase and for that, he could no longer serve as their leader.

Parshas Korach - leadership optional?

Rashi, in his comments on the beginnings of Korach’s rebellion, cites a story from Midrash Tanchuma. As the story goes, Korach and his followers all put on garments made entirely of techeiles (the blue dye used to color one of the fringes in Tzizit) and went to Moshe. They asked: “If a four-cornered garment is made entirely of techeiles, does it require fringes with a string dyed in techeiles?” Moshe replied that such a garment still required the addition of fringes with one thread of techeiles. Korach and his followers then mocked Moshe, saying that surely a garment made entirely of techeiles should be holy enough.

The midrash continues: Korach and his followers then filled a house with Torah scrolls and asked Moshe if the house required a mezuzah. He told them that the house still needed a mezuzah and the rebels mocked him, saying that the presence of all the scrolls makes the mezuzah superfluous.

What is going on in this midrash? In his notes on Rashi, Rabbi Avrohom Davis suggests that this midrash offers a colorful illustration of one of Korach’s primary challenges to Moshe and Aaron’s leadership of the people. In both cases in the midrash, the question the rebels posed was:  Does the addition of one small significant article truly change the status of a larger entity, if that entity is already suffused in holiness? The analogies of the midrash reflected the rebels’ bold philosophical argument, that since all the people heard God’s voice at Sinai, and were thus spiritually elevated, they did not need Moshe and Aaron to serve as teachers and guides.

Moshe effectively disproved the argument of Korach and his followers with the assistance of an unprecedented miracle - the ground opened up on cue and swallowed all the rebels (Number 16:28-35). Yet Korach’s argument, that Jewish leadership is often irrelevant, is one that periodically reemerges. On occasion we encounter Jews who resent the demands of religious life and, as a means of justifying their lethargy, they will grouse openly with their friends about the wisdom or authority of their rabbis. Our modern day religious leaders cannot summon mini-earthquakes, so they are unable to easily dispatch their detractors. But in my experience, those who are not able to find a constructive way to work within their religious community are often ‘swallowed up’ in their grievances and find themselves isolated just the same.

Parshas Shelach - righteous heresy?

The spies, sent to explore the Land of Canaan before the Children of Israel conquer the area, return from their mission and deliver a discouraging report about prospects of taking over the land (13:27-29). Sensing that the nation has lost the will to take part in the conquest, Calev - one of two spies who disagreed with the majority’s dour report - attempts to rally the peoples’ spirits: “Calev silenced the people about Moshe and said: We can surely go up to the land and we shall possess it, for we are surely able to overcome it.” (13:30).

Rashi explains what Calev did to silence the people, so they would listen – he started his speech with a provocative question: “Is this all the son of Amram [Moshe’s father] did to us?” Thinking Calev was going to skewer Moshe, the people got quiet. Calev went on: “Didn’t he split the sea for us? Didn’t he bring down manna for us? Didn’t he cause the quail to be blown to us? We can succeed at whatever he says.”

Ultimately, Calev’s ruse didn’t work. The people allowed their fears to overtake them, they rebelled against Moshe and God, and God sentenced them to wander the desert for 40 years. The tactic was clever but in this setting, it failed.

It’s interesting, however, that one other noted Jewish leader apparently took up Calev’s tactic. In a commentary on the Book of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes), Harold Leiman explains that King Solomon earned the nickname Kohelet because, in his discourses, he would echo back to the people (the Kehal) some of their more heretical thoughts, so as to articulate them and then to defuse them. This is why the Book of Kohelet starts with the phrase: “Vanity of vanities, said Kohelet, vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Solomon starts with a pessimistic statement, so as to engage his listeners, but then leads them (and us) into a more constructive approach to life and faith. In this circumstance, it appears that the tactic succeeds.    

Parshas Beha’aloscha – first things first

In the middle of Parshas Beha’aloscha we encounter a phrase that identifies, with great specificity, when God presented a particular law to Moshe: “Adonoy spoke with Moshe in the desert of Sinai in the second year of their going out of the land of Egypt, in the first month, saying: The children of Israel shall perform the Passover sacrifice in it’s proper time…” (Numbers 9:1-2). One reason this identifying phrase is so striking is that it parallels another phrase, at the very start of the book of Bamidbar/Numbers: “And Adonoy spoke to Moshe in the Sinai desert, in the Tent of Meeting, on the first day of the second month, in the second year of their going out of Egypt, saying: Take a census …” (Number 1:1-2). One difference between the two identifiers is that the law in this week’s parsha was actually presented earlier, despite the fact this it is recorded eight chapters later.

Rashi notes in his commentary on this parsha that this unusual ordering of the commands teaches us an important principle: SheAin Seder MookDam OoMeh-OoChar BaTorah – There is no order of precedence or succession in the Torah. Put another way, we are not to assume that the Torah is always presented in a perfectly linear manner; rather, God arranged the Torah in a certain way so as to establish a number of important associations, at the expense occasionally of chronology.

One might ask: why was the injunction in this week’s Torah portion listed out of its chronological order? Rashi suggests that this was done to spare the children of Israel shame, because this was the only time they performed the Passover sacrifice in the 40 years they spent in the desert. With the aid of footnotes on Rashi by Rabbi Avrohom Davis we learn that God only commanded the Jewish people to bring the Passover sacrifice this one time, before they entered the Land Of Israel. God’s intention was that the Jews would proceed into the Land of Israel shortly after the giving of the Torah. Instead, the sin of the episode of the spies occurred, leading to a forty-year delay. To lessen the embarrassment that might arise through attention to the mitzvah of the Passover sacrifice - that the Jewish people lost for 40 years - might bring about, God reordered the chapters in Numbers.

One way we can apply the lesson of this out-of-synch injunction in our own lives is to consider how we approach a situation if we need to share with a loved one an instance where they acted in an unappealing manner. Do we quickly raise the indelicate matter, in the hope perhaps that candor and directness will lead to an apology or changed behavior? Or do we act more considerately (and with more emotional intelligence), by first discussing a few instances where our loved acted in a praiseworthy fashion and only then broaching the problematic episode? If we model ourselves after the way God structured the Book of Numbers, we forsake forthrightness and embrace a broader view of those we love, even in difficult moments.