Parashath Huqqath (Numbers XIX,1-XXII,1) 7/1/11

A.

This week’s parasha includes the account of Miriam’s and Aharon’s deaths. It is interesting to note that, far more than in the case of Miriam, the Torah is at pains to pin-point the location where Aharon died: ויאמר ד' אל משה ואל אהרן בהר ההר על גבול ארץ אדום לאמר: יאסף אהרן אל עמיו כי לא יבא אל הארץ אשר נתתי לבני ישראל על אשר מריתם את פי במי מריבה: (“And Ha-Shem said to Moshe and to Aharon at Hor, the mountain on the border of the land of Edom, to say: Aharon will be gathered to his peoples, for he will not come to the land which I have given the bënei Yisra’él because you rebelled [against] My word at Mei Mëriva”; XX, 23-24).

Mei Mëriva – “The Water of Strife” – is the name given the location where Miriam died, and the miraculous well which had followed Israel though the desert ceased to flow. The thirsty nation descended on Moshe and Aharon, who sought Divine guidance. G-d told them to speak to a certain rock, and water would gush forth. Accompanied by the maddening crowd, Moshe momentarily lost his temper, and in a fleeting flash of anger struck the rock instead of speaking to it. The water gushed forth anyhow, but G-d informed them: יען לא האמנתם בי להקדישני לעיני בני ישראל לכן לא תביאו את הקהל הזה אל הארץ אשר נתתי להם (“...Since you did not believe in Me to sanctify Me in the eyes of the bënei Yisra’él; therefore you will not bring this community to the land which I have given them”; ibid., 12).

The second person plural is used relentlessly throughout the account when G-d speaks to Moshe and Aharon – clearly, the commandment to speak to the rock was incumbent on both of them, and Aharon’s failure to restrain Moshe in his momentary excess of exasperation, or at least speak to the rock whilst Moshe was striking it, which would have rendered the situation somewhat more ambiguous, is presumably the failure which led to Aharon’s being included in the punishment with Moshe.

But why did he die when he did, and where he did? Why does the Torah care that we know it was at “Hor, the mountain on the border of the land of Edom”?

B.

In order to appreciate what the Torah is trying to tell us here, it is first necessary to grasp what the Torah means when it tells us that G-d is א-ל אמונה ואין עול (“G-d of faithfulness and there is no injustice”; Deuteronomy XXXII, 4).

The Maharam Hagiz explains the underlying concept thus: כבר נודע גודל חסדיו ית' שתמיד הוא מטה כלפי חסד וקודם שיגמר דינו של אדם א' להתחייב בו דן אותו לא לפי מעשיו לבד אלא לפי הצער שיגיע תחלה לבניו ולבני ביתו אם ראויים לכך או לאו ואם מצאן ראויים דן אותו לפי הצער שיגיע לכל בני משפחתו ואח"כ עם כל בני המדינה ואח"כ בכללות כל העולם. ואם בכל כלל ופרט מהנזכרים נמצאו חייבים באותו צער אשר יגיע להם או עונש במיתת אותו המסוכן שנכנס לקולר אזי ימות או יענש כפי המשפט צדק שנתחייב בו. אמנם אם איזה פרט מהנזכרים אינו ראוי לקבל אותו צער בזכותו של אותו פרטי ניצול אע"פ שהוא מצד עצמו נתחייב בדין (“The greatness of His kindnesses is already known, that He always leans toward kindness, and before the judgment of any person is sealed to convict him, He judges [that person] not according to his deeds alone, but according to the pain which will reach first, all his children and the members of his household; are they deserving of it or not. And if He finds them deserving, He judges him according to the pain which will reach all of his family members, and afterwards with all the residents of his city, and then will all the world. And if, every group and individual of those mentioned are found deserving of that pain or punishment which will come to them through the death of the endangered one who has entered into peril, then that one will die or be punished according to the just judgment with which he has been convicted; however, if any individual amongst those mentioned is not deserving to receive the pain or punishment, [the accused] is rescued, in the merit of that individual, even though he is objectively guilty in and of himself”; הקדמה לספר שו"ת שתי הלחם).

In other words, no properly constituted béyth din judges alone. Whilst they do the best they can to consider evidence and testimony and try logically to apply the principles of halacha to a given case, judgment also proceeds at a higher level, as the Divine Judge considers the impact punishing the accused might have on the broader world around him. Should his conviction impinge negatively on someone who has done nothing to deserve it, G-d calls the attention of the dayyanim to some mitigating factor in the evidence to acquit him, even if, considered solely from his own viewpoint, he is in fact guilty. The verdict of guilt or innocence which béyth din reaches is never arbitrary, and always logically justified on the evidence; however, if the accused has no positive impact on anyone around him, the evidence is different. This does not necessarily mean that he “gets away” with anything, only that, in such a case, judgment, if deserved is deferred to some other occasion; his fate hangs from a thread, and is dependent on others. So, if the dayyanim diligently do their job, G-d is “G-d of faithfulness; there is no injustice."

King David mentions this process repeatedly. For instance, he sings אלקים נצב בעדת א-ל בקרב אלהים ישפט (“G-d is present in the Divine assembly; in the midst of the judges, He render judgment”; Psalms LXXXII, 1; ע"ע סוטה מ"ז ואבות פ"ה מי"ח). Or, משפטי ד' אמת צדקו יחדיו (“Ha-Shem’s judgments are true, completely justified together”; ibid., XIX, 7).

If this is true of earthly courts, how much more so is it true of cases judged solely in the Heavenly Court. This concept underlies many Jewish practices; for example, it underlies the birkath ha-Gomél recited when has come successfully out of a dangerous situation refers to G-d as הגומל לחייבים טובות (“the One Who grants good things to the guilty”).

Considerations of the sort discussed by the Maharam Hagiz are part of halacha pësuqa. To cite only one example, Rabbi Eli‘ezer Yëhuda Waldenberg זצ"ל ruled in a case in which a man traveling by sea was in need of urgent (but not life-threatening) surgery, as a result of which he could safely wait until he reached land. Citing a comment of the Maharsha (ראש השנה י"ז:) that a seafarer is considered uniquely alone, Rabbi Waldenberg ruled that he should wait until he reached land and reëstablished his connection with his family and community, lest being judged solely on his own merits prove insufficient (ציץ אליעזר חי"ב סי' י"ח ).

With this in mind, let us return to our passage.

C.

Rashi was clearly bothered by our question, and sought his answer in the Midrash Tanhuma. מגיד שמפני שנתחברו כאן להתקרב לעשו הרשע נפרצו מעשיהם וחסרו הצדיק הזה וכן הנביא או' ליהושפט "בהתחברך עם אחזי' פרץ ד' את מעשיך" (“[The verse] relates that because they had joined together here to approach the evil ‘Esav [i.e., the ancestor of Edom; cf. vv. 14-21], their works were breached and they lost this tzaddiq [Aharon]; and so, too, does the prophet say to Yëhoshafat ‘Because you joined together with Ahazyahu, Ha-Shem has breached your works’ [II Chronicles XX, 37]”).

The Torah tells us that Aharon died because of his complicity in the sin of Mei Mëriva, as confirmed in the Talmud (שבת נ"ה:); but the timing of his demise was set by the general loss of merit caused by Israel’s attempt to rely on the Edomim.

The Sëfath Emeth (מובא במעינה של תורה) finds evidence of this in the subsequent verse, ויראו כל העדה כי גוע אהרן ויבכו את אברן שלשים יום כל בית ישראל (“And the entire community feared because Aharon had perished, and the whole house of Israel mourned Aharon thirty days”; XX, 29).

As the Talmud explains, the fear was caused by the disappearance of the ‘ananei ha-kavod, the “clouds of honor” which had accompanied Israel throughout their desert sojourn as the visible sign of the cocoon of Divine protection in which they had wandered. Indeed, the very next verse reads: וישמע הכנעני מלך ערד וגו' (“And the Këna‘ani, king of ‘Arad, heard....”, and the Talmud goes on to say that what he heard was that Aharon had died and the clouds had vanished, which he read as Divine permission to attack Israel (עיי' תענית ט.).

Why, asks the Sëfath Emeth, did Israel deserve the suffering at this juncture, which brought about the execution of Aharon’s sentence in the béyth Din shel Ma‘la? Because of their approach to the evil Edomim....

D.

The faith of Israel is that G-d indeed runs the world, and does so with perfect justice. It is simply the case that we are not allowed to examine the books, and so we do not always see the working out of every intricacy of that Divine justice. Sometimes, it may seem arbitrary; we are assured that it is not.

This core principle of assured reward and punishment, whether in this world or the next, also tells us that, thanks to the covenant into which we entered at Sinai, if we do our utmost to fulfill our end of the bargain by learning Torah and observing its precepts, then we will be taken care of as well. However dark things may appear, the remedy has been put in place before the malady. If we do our part, we need fear no oppressor or aggressor; it is when we forget this fundamental principle that such fears are all too justified.

Parshath Huqqath (Numbers XIX,1-XXII,1) 6/18/10

A.

This week’s parasha deals with yet another instance of rebeliousness by the yotz’ei Mitzra-yim, with a very peculiar twist. As Israel was rounding the borders of Edom in the approach to the Holy Land, ותקצר נפש העם בדרך: וידבר העם באלקים ובמשה למה העליתנו ממצרים למות במדבר כי אין לחם ואין מים ונפשנו קצה מלחם הקלקל: וישלח ד' בעם את הנחשים השרפים וינשכו את העם וימת עם רב מישראל: ויבא העם אל משה ויאמרו חטאנו כי דברנו בד' ובך התפלל אל ד' ויסר מעלינו את הנחש ויתפלל משה בעד העם: ויאמר ד' אל משה עשה לך שרף ושים אתו על הנס וגו' (“...and the people became impatient on the way. And the people spoke against G-d and Moshe, 'Why did you bring us up from Egypt to die in the desert, for there is no bread and no water, and our soul is revolted by the man [lehem qëloqél]. And Ha-Shem sent amongst the people the venomous snakes [ha-nëhashim ha-sërafim], and they bit the people, and a great mass of Israel died. And the people came to Moshe and said, 'We have sinned [in] that we spoke against Ha-Shem and you; pray to Ha-Shem, that he remove from us the nahash; and Moshe prayed for the people. And Ha-Shem said to Moshe, Make for yourself a saraf and place it on the pole, and it will be, everyone bitten who sees it will live. And Moshe made a copper snake [nëhash nëhosheth] and placed it on the pole....”; XXI, 4-9).

G-d’s instructions to Moshe appear to contradict His earlier prohibition לא תעשה לך פסל וכל תמונה אשר בשמים ממעל ואשר בארץ מתחת ואשר במים אשר מתחת הארץ (“You will not make for yourself a statue or any image [of] what is in the sky above and what is on the earth below and what is in the water below the earth”; Exodus XX, 4). Arguably the Këruvim, concerning which G-d subsequently gave detailed instructions (ibid., XXV, 18-22), show that He need not be consistent; but the point is the prohibition of ‘avoda zara, idolatry, and there is no evidence of any idolatrous cult developed around the këruvim. This was not the case with the copper snake, as shown by the later action of King Hizqiyahu, about whom we read: וכתת נחש הנחשת אשר עשה משה כי עד הימים ההמה היו בני ישראל מקטרים לו וגו' (“...and he cut up the nëhash ha-nëhosheth which Moshe had made, for by those days the bënei Yisra’él were burning incense to it...”; II Kings XVIII, 4).

This being so, it seems to me that there are some fundamental questions to be asked here:

(1) Why were nëhashim sërafim the appropriate response to rebellious lashon ha-ra‘ this time?
(2) G-d sends nëhashim sërafim; the people ask that the nahash be abated, but G-d tells Moshe to make a saraf, yet Moshe makes a nëhash nëhosheth. Why the alternation in wording?

B.

Let us deal with the second question first.

Though Moshe could have chosen to avoid the “image” issue by, e.g., stuffing a snakeskin (עיי' עירובין י"ג: רש"י דה"מ טהור שאין עור שרץ שמת טמא ), he chose, instead, to make a nëhash nëhosheth. Rashi tells us, basing himself on the Yërushalmi, that Moshe chose the material, copper, because of the similarity between the words nahash and nëhosheth. To quote the Yërushalmi directly: "עשה לך שרף" לא פירש אמר משה עקרה (של שרף) לא נחש הוא?! (שהארס שורף) לפיכך "ויעש משה נחש נחשת" (“‘Make for yourself a saraf’: [G-d] did not specify; said Moshe, 'Is not the main point [of a saraf] the snake [whose venom burns -- soréf]'?!; therefore ‘And Moshe made a nëhash nëhosheth’”; ירושלמי ראש השנה פ"ג ה"ט, המלים שבסוגריים ע"פ פי' הפני משה שם); the Pënei Moshe echoes Rashi’s point that nahash and nëhosheth are לשון נופל על לשון, based on the similarity of language.

So nahash appealed more to Moshe than saraf; but what was so important that it be of copper?

An answer suggests itself in a remark by the Bë’ér Moshe on our parasha, based on the Talmud (ראש השנה כ"ט.): "עשה לך שרף" וכי נחש ממית או מחיי'? אלא בזמן שישראל מסתכלין כלפי מעלה ומשעבדין לבם לאביהם שבשמים היו מתרפאין כו' נמצא שכל כוונת עשיית הנחש הי' בכדי לעורר אותם להסתכלות עמוקה של חשבון הנפש שיש עמה תשובה (“‘Make for yourself a saraf’; does then a snake kill or revive? Rather, when Israel look upward and subjugate their hearts to their Father Who is in Heaven, they are healed....We find that the entire intention of making the snake was to awaken them to the deep introspection of the heshbon ha-nefesh [‘accounting of the soul’] which has with it tëshuva”).

Thus we see why the snake was hoist on a pole, but the Rebbe stops short of explaining why it is of copper. It seems to me that the reason is that the most common material of which mirrors were made in the ancient world was copper. If one looks up at the form of the bearer of the eres ha-soréf, the “venom which burns”, and sees oneself reflected in its material, it is surely a strong allusion to the introspective heshbon ha-nefesh to which the Rebbe alludes.

The idiomatic use of the imperative singular with the word lëcha, (as I suggested in Parshath Shëlah), (and as we find here in G-d’s words, ‘asé lëcha) provides scope for human initiative. Hence, Moshe felt himself free to interpret G-d’s word, saraf, in terms of the nahash.

C.

Why were the nëhashim ha-sërafim sent in response to the rebellion?

In the desert, the bënei Yisra’él lived in a miraculous cocoon: The ‘ananei ha-kavod shielded them from the desert heat; their clothes did not wear out; food fell from the sky on a daily basis; and so on. Yet, every time there was a hint of adversity in the desert they began to whine and complain.

The evident, underlying reason was a lack of bittahon, trust that G-d was really running things, discernible in every incident from that of the Golden Calf, when the ‘am panicked because Moshe had failed to descend from Mt. Sinai on schedule, due to a misunderstanding of the schedule, to this one. In each case (as we learn explicitly in the case of the Calf; Exodus XXXII, 4, Rashi ad loc.) the instigators were the ‘erev rav, the “mixed multitude” who had accompanied Israel; but in each case, the rot spread to the ‘am, the lowest spiritual stratum in Israel.

The ‘erev rav were susceptible to this because, as idolators sons of idolators, they lacked a truly religious sensibility. Rather than being religious, they were superstitious, and this, too, finds allusion in G-d’s choice of the nahash in response to the complaint.

The root on which nahash is formed also yields nihush “divination.” The very English word, derived from the Latin for “god,” illuminates the idolatrous mindset. The effect of nihush on the human soul is encapsulated in a remark by Rabbi Yëhuda ha-Nasi’ in the Talmud: כל המנחש לו נחש (“Anyone who engages in divination does it to himself”; נדרים ל"ב. ורש"י שם דה"מ לו נחש), on which the Torah Tëmima comments: ר"ל כל העוסק בניחושים ורואה בכל דבר ענין ניחוש, הניחוש רודף אחריו, כי מטבע האדם כך הוא, שכל מה שמשקיע דעתו ברעיון אחד ומאמין בו אותו הרעיון רודף אחריו, ומטרידו בכל הלכותיו ומעשיו ו והגיוניו (“He wishes to say that one who engages in nihushim and sees in everything an omen, the nihush pursues him, for it is human nature that the more one invests himself in a single idea and believes in it, the idea pursues and disturbs all of his conduct and deeds and reasoning”; בפירושו לבמדבר כ"ג כ"ג וע"ע ירושלמי שבת פ"ו ה"ט ששם הלשון כל המנחש סופו לבא עליו).

True religion is the recognition and acceptance that G-d runs the world and, in Rabbi ‘Aqiva’s famous words, כל דעביד רחמנא לטבא עביד (“Everything the Merciful does, He does for good”; ברכות כ"ח:). Accepting this fact, when it appears that bad things are happening, the truly religious person sees an opportunity for self-correction, a warning that something is not quite right; that is, it inspires the heshbon ha-nefesh and tëshuva to which the Rebbe alludes above.

Someone enveloped in a spirit of nihush, on the other hand, sees himself as a helpless victim of inchoate forces beyond his control or comprehension, and neurotically glances anxiously about him for some sign or glimpse of what is to occur. The truly religious man is free, understanding that events will take their course, and that he influences them only by what he does as a free moral actor. One in the grip of nihush is a self-perceived victim, at the mercy of those events, a slave of his fears.

The complaint of the ‘am, “why did you bring us... to the desert to die” reveals the mindset of the complainers, who saw themselves at the mercy of others, not responsible in and for themselves. By sending nëhashim, and inspiring Moshe to make the nëhash ha-nëhosheth, G-d was sending the message that this attitude, which expresses itself in nihush, strictly forbidden in Israel (cf. e.g. Leviticus XIX, 26, Deuteronomy XVIII, 10, and Bil‘am’s words in Numbers XXIII, 23), is derived from an incorrect reading of the miracles in the desert.

The nëhash ha-nëhosheth became an object of ‘avoda zara in a later generation only when, under the influence of their idolatrous neighbors, some of the people of Yëhuda forgot its pur-pose, and saw the snake as an instrument of salvation. Hizqiyahu had no choice but to destroy it.

D.

Only the religious person, cognisant of the true relationship between himself, G-d, and the world, is truly free. Hazal have the last word: "והלחת מעשה אלקים המה והמכתב מכתב אלקים הוא חרות על הלחת", אל תקרא חרות אלא חירות שאין לך בן חורין אלא מי שעוסק בתלמוד תורה (“And the tablets were G-d’s work, and the script G-d’s script, carved [haruth] on the tablets’ [Exodus XXXII, 16]; read not haruth but rather héruth [‘freedom’], for no one is free save one who is occupied in Torah study”; אבות פ"ו ה"ב), the only source of true religion.

Parshath Chuqqath-Balaq (Numbers XIX,1-XXV,9) 7/3/09

A.

Our parasha tells of the time when Israel’s desert sojourn was drawing to an end, as they sought to approach the Holy Land by way of the territory of its neighbor to the southeast, Edom. The Edomim refused them safe passage through their land, and turned out in force to enforce the ban, ויט ישראל מעליו (“And Israel turned away from him”; XX, 21).

ויאמר ד' אל משה ואל אהרן בהר ההר על גבול ארץ אדום לאמר: יאסף אהרן אל עמיו כי לא יבא אל הארץ אשר נתתי לבני ישראל על אשר מריתם את פי למי מריבה (“And Ha-Shem said to Moshe and to Aharon at Hor the mountain on the border of Edom, to say: Aharon will be gathered to his people, for he will not come to the land which I have given to the bënei Yisra’él, because you rebelled against My word at Mei Mëriva”; ibid., 23-24).

Rashi comments on the Torah’s little geography lesson by quoting the Midrash Tanchuma: מגיד שמפני שנתחברו כאן להתקרב לעשו הרשע נפרצו מעשיהם וחסרו הצדיק הזה וכן הנביא אומר ליהושפט "בהתחברך עם אחזי' פרץ ד' את מעשיך" (“[It] relates that because they had joined together here to approach ‘Esav ha-rasha‘ their works were breached and they lost this tzaddiq; and so does the prophet say to Yehoshafat, ‘By your associating with Achazyahu, Ha-Shem has breached your works’ [II Chronicles XX, 37]”).

The implication is that there is some similarity between the two episodes, but it is hard to see where it is: Israel were approaching the border of Edom (whose ancestor had been ‘Esav) only to pass through to the Holy Land, whilst Yehoshafat had entered into a treaty with Achazyahu ben Ach’av. One sees why the prophet calls Yehoshafat’s action “association,” but it is hard to see why Chazal so characterize our parasha.

We may also ask: Since verse 24 clearly spells out the reason for Aharon’s death, why did Chazal see a need to offer another reason in the midrash?

B.

The Sëfath Emeth asks our second question, and offers in answer hat whilst it is true that Aharon had already been told that he would not survive to enter the Promised Land, no date had been fixed for the sentence to be executed. After all, Moshe was under the same sentence (note the second person plural verb in the last clause of verse 24), yet he survived to lead Israel in their battles with Sichon and ‘Og, after this episode, and lived to deliver his farewell address on the plains of Mo’av. Aharon could have been there with him.

Thus, he suggests, what Chazal are telling us is not why Aharon had to perish, but why Israel had to suffer the pain of losing him at this juncture, as is made clear from the third person plural verbs of the quoted midrash (“since they had joined together...they lost this tzaddiq....”). It is Israel’s loss that Chazal are addressing (מובא במעינה של תורה). But what, really, had they done?

The Bë’er ba-Sadeh explains: י"ל כיון שלא נתן מלך אדום לישראל עבור בגבולו הי' להם להתרחק מגבולם, והם היו הולכים קרוב לארצם לקנות מהם אוכל ושאר דברים והיו נושאים ונותנים עמהם כאנשים אחים ועל זה נענשו שחסרו את הצדיק והוא מדה כנגד מדה שהם היו יוצאים מתחת ענני הכבוד שהוא בזכות אהרן כדי להתחבר עם אדום לשאת ולתת עמו דאי אפשר לזרע עשו לבוא אצל ישראל תחת העננים אלא ישראל היו יוצאים להתחבר עמהם ולזה חסרו את הצדיק ונסתלקו העננים (“It may be said that since the king of Edom had not allowed Israel to cross his border, they should [immediately] have moved away from [the Edomi] border, and they were moving close to [Edom] to buy food and other things, doing business with them in brotherly fashion, and for this they were punished and lost the tzaddiq; and this was measure for measure, for [Israel] were coming out from under the ‘ananei ha-kavod, which were in Aharon’s merit, in order to associate with Edom and do business with them, for it was impossible for the descendants of ‘Esav to come to Israel under the ‘ananim, but Israel were going out to associate with them, and for this reason they lost the tzaddiq and the ‘ananim vanished”).

In short, Israel’s continued association with Edom, hugging their border on the way north to Mo’av, after Edom’s decisive rejection was at Israel’s initiative; since Israel came out from under the ‘ananei ha-kavod, the “clouds of glory” which had, in honor of Aharon’s presence amongst them, ere now shielded Israel from the desert sun to associate with rësha‘im, they lost Aharon’s presence and with him, the ‘ananim.

C.

To answer our first question, we need to back up a bit. When Israel were encamped at Qadesh, near the border with Edom, Moshe sent ambassadors to the Edomi king, instructed to say: כה אמר אחיך ישראל אתה ידעת את כל התלאה אשר מצאתנו: וירדו אבותינו מצרימה ונשב במצרים ימים רבים וירעו לנו מצרים ולאבותינו: ונצעק אל ד' וישמע קלנו וישלח מלאך ויצאנו ממצרים והנה אנחנו בקדש עיר קצה גבולך: (“Thus says your brother Israel, You know fully all the travail which has befallen us. And our fathers went down to Egypt, and we settled in Egypt for many days, and the Egyptians maltreated us and our fathers. And we cried out to Ha-Shem and he heard our voice and sent a representative, and brought us out of Egypt; and here we are in Qadesh, a city at the edge of your border”; XX, 14-16), whereupon they asked to be allowed to pass through.

Rashi explains why Moshe prescribed this preamble: אמר לו אחיך אנחנו בני אברהם שנא' לו "כי גר יהי' זרעך" ועל שנינו הי' אותו החוב לפרעו. לפיכך פירש אביכם מכל אבינו "וילך אל ארת מפני יעקב אחיו" מפני השטר חוב המוטל עליהם והטילו על יעקב (“[Moshe] said to [the Edomi king], We are your brother, sons of Avraham, to whom it was said, ‘Your descendants will be strangers [in a land not theirs’; Genesis XV, 13], and that debt was on both of us to repay. For this reason, your father fled from our father ‘and went to [another] country because of Ya‘aqov his brother’ [ibid., XXXVI,6], because of the bill of account incumbent on both of us, and imposed it on Ya‘aqov [alone]”).

In short, ‘Esav had ducked his duty, and left Ya‘aqov “holding the bag”, as it were. Moshe’s words strongly implied that Edom, as descendants of ‘Esav, owed Israel (descendants of Ya‘aqov), as the saying goes, “big time”. His apparent hope was that he could still awaken brotherly feelings in Edom, and sought to show the Edomim the advantages of joining Israel on the winning side, where G-d would fight their battles, as He had fought Israel’s in Egypt.

Now consider the episode involving Yehoshafat and Achazyahu.

Near the end of Yehoshafat’s reign over the southern kingdom of Yehuda, his country was suddenly invaded by the combined armed forces of ‘Ammon, Mo’av, and Edom. The pious king prayed for deliverance as he marshalled his forces to resist, and received confirmation from a prophet that his prayer had been answered. He was directed to take his army to meet the enemy, but advised that he would not have to fight; his salvation would come from G-d. So the army of Yehuda met the invaders at a town called Tëqoa‘, and watched their enemies fall apart before their eyes, as ‘Ammon and Mo’av first ganged up on Edom, and then set to fighting each other. Yehuda won a stunning, bloodless victory over the eastern coalition (II Chronicles XX, 1-30).

It was immediately in the wake of this resounding victory, we are told, that Yehoshafat entered into a joint commercial venture with Achazyahu ben Ach’av, king of the northern kingdom of Israel. It seems not at all farfetched to think that Yehoshafat’s motivation was much like that of Moshe, i.e., following on such stunning evidence of the advantages of having G-d on one’s side, he approached the northern king in a brotherly fashion, and reached out to him. But Achazyahu was very much the son of his father and mother, the unspeakable Izevel, and was not at all interested in reform. The venture came to naught; the ships were broken up, and never sailed, and another navi rebuked Yehoshafat, as we have seen, for not having recognized what Achazyahu actually was.

D.

So Moshe’s motivation for approaching Edom, and Yehoshafat’s for approaching Achazyahu, appear to have ben the same, a desire to engage in qiruv rëchoqim, bringing back the estranged, which did not pan out. Can we learn something about the parameters of qiruv from this?

Chazal tell us: הרחק משכן רע ואל תתחבר לרשע (“Stay away from a bad neighbor, and do not associate with a rasha‘”; אבות פ"א מ"ז), and all of the commentators explain that one should keep one’s distance from rësha‘im lest they come to influence their more righteous neighbor. Yet, we also have a mitzva of ahavath Yisra’él, a positive mitzva to love one’s fellow Jew. We are lead to approach our less observant and estranged brothers as a noble expression of this miztva; how do we reconcile the two principles?

The late Ozherover Rebbe זצוק"ל comments on the mishna above: שאם כי מוטלת עלינו החובה לאהוב אפילו אלו שהתרחקו כו' וכן כתב התניא (פל"ב) הגם שמצוה לשנאותם מצוה לאהבם גם כן ושתיהם הן אמת, שנאה מצד הרע שבהם ואהבה מצד בחינת הטוב שגנוז בהם שהוא ניצוץ אלקות שבהם. אמנם עם כל זה שומה עלינו להשגיח שלא להתחבר עמם חלילה כו' ועל כרחך הכונה הוא לאהבה שאין עמה התקרבות יתירה בפועל ממש, אלא רק אהבה פנימית בלב, וכך חייבת להיות האהבה לרשעים תוך כדי שמירת גדר הריחוק מהם שלא להמשך אחריהם (“For if indeed the duty is laid upon us to love even those who are estranged... as the Ba‘al ha-Tanya wrote (32), Even though there is a mitzva to hate them, there is also a mitzva to love them, and both are the truth, hatred for the evil in them, but love because of the good aspect hidden within them, which is a spark of Divinity within them. However, with all this it is placed upon us to guard that we not associate with them.... One is forced to conclude that the intent is a love which is not accompanied by excessive closeness in actual practice, but only an internal love in the heart; so the love for rësha‘im must be together with the preservation of distance from them, that one not be drawn after them”).

Obviously, each case requires careful insight and rabbinical consultation, but we must recognize that, as much as we wish to approach our estranged brethren and bring them close once again to their precious heritage of Torah u-mitzvoth, there sometimes comes a point at which one is wasting one’s time, even courting spiritual danger to oneself and one’s family, which must be recognized, whether it is demonstrated by an overt message, as in the case of the Edomim in our parasha, or by a complete lack of interest, as appears to have been the case with Achazyahu ben Ach’av.

Parshath Chuqqath (Numbers XIX,1-XXII,1) 7/4/08

A.

Our parasha deals with the deaths of Miriam and Aharon.

Miriam was the first of Moshe’s siblings to die: ויבאו בני ישראל מדבר צן בחדש הראשון וישב העם בקדש ותמת מרים שם ותקבר שם (“And the bnei Yisra’él came [to] the desert of Tzin in the first month, and the people settled in Qadesh; and Miriam died there and was buried there;” XX, 1).

Rashi quotes the Talmud (מועד קטן כ"ח.): למה נסמכה מיתת מרים לפרשת פרה אדומה? לומר לך כמו שקרבנות מכפרין אף מיתת צדיקים מכפרת (“Why is Miriam’s death juxtaposed to the passage of the para adumma [‘red heifer’, which begins our parasha]? To tell you that just as sacrifices atone, so does the death of tzaddiqim atone”).

The Maharal mi-Prag (גור ארי' לרש"י הנ"ל וע"ע שפתי חכמים) notes that the comparison seems, at first, inapt; after all, the para adumma is not, precisely, a sacrifice, since no part of it is offered on the altar. He goes on to observe, however, that our parasha nonetheless refers to the para by the term chattath (XIX, 9), the same term used of a sin offering (cf., e.g., Leviticus VI, 17-23), despite the fact that it is not really a qorban. He concludes that the atoning quality of this pseudo-sacrifice derives from the fact that it is burnt up completely, reduced to its fundamental matter; in like wise, death is an atonement, he says, since the soul is divested of the form of the body, the source of sin. It is in this that they are similar.

If so, why is it the death of Miriam, specifically (as opposed to another tzaddiq) which is juxtaposed with the para adumma? Our eye comes to rest on a midrash: משל לבן שפחה שטינף פלטין של מלך, אמרו תבא אמו ותקנח את הצואה, כך תבא פרה ותכפר על העגל (“A parable of a son of a maidservant who soils the king’s throne; they said, Let his mother come and clean up the mess; thus, let the cow come and atone for the calf;” מובא ברש"י בשם ר' משה הדרשן).

The cow in some fashion atones for the Golden Calf; so does Mother Miriam’s death in some sense atone for Israel (ועיי' תורה תמימה שם). But for what sin?

B.

Our question is somewhat sharpened by the reflection that Miriam’s death, in a certain sense, can be said to have brought about the deaths of her brothers.

As a direct consequence of Miriam’s death, Rashi tells us, "ולא הי' מים לעדה" -- מכאן שכל מ' שנה הי' להם הבאר בזכות מרים (“‘And the community had no water’ [XX, 2] -- from here [we learn] that the entire 40 years [that Israel were in the desert] they had a well in Miriam’s merit”). For virtually the entire time of their sojourn in the desert, water was supplied by this miraculous traveling well. When Miriam perished, though, the well vanished.

And the people panicked, and crowded about Moshe and Aharon, yammering, לו גועמו בגוע אחינו לפני ד': ולמה הבאתם את קהל ד' אל במדבר הזה למות שם אנחנו ובעירנו: ולמה העליתנו ממצרים להביא אתנו אל המקום הרע הזה וגו' (“If only we had perished as did our brothers before Ha-Shem! Why did you bring the congregation of Ha-Shem to this desert to die there, we and our cattle? And why did you bring us up from Egypt to this evil place...?” ibid., 3-5).

In response, G-d told Moshe and Aharon to take Moshe’s staff, approach a certain rock, and speak to it; water would miraculously gush forth. As Moshe and Aharon walked toward the rock, the maddening crowd gave them no respite. In a flash of anger, Moshe cried, המן הסלע הזה נוציא לכם מים (“Is it from this rock that we should bring forth water for you?”) and struck the rock, rather than speaking to it. The miracle happened anyway, and the water gushed forth; but the damage was done: ויאמר ד' אל משה ואל אהרן יען לא האמנתם בי להקדישני לעיני בני ישראל לא תביאו את הקהל הזה לארץ אשר נתתי להם (“And Ha-Shem said to Moshe and to Aharon, 'Since you did not foster faith in Me to sanctify Me in the eyes of the bnei Yisra’él, you will not bring this congregation to the land which I have given them;” ibid., 10-11).

So we see that this whole incident of Mei M’riva can be said to have resulted as consequence of Miriam’s death. When Israel left Qadesh and arrived at Hor ha-Har on the border of Edom, Aharon died (v. 27). But this begs the question: It was Moshe who momentarily allowed himself to become angry and hit the rock; what, exactly, was Aharon’s failure?

C.

This question bothered Ramban, who subjected the incident of Mei M’riva to a lengthy analysis, in the course of which he disposed of theories proposed by several other commentators.

First, he dismisses the notion that the core issue could have been Moshe’s striking the rock. He notes that G-d explicitly told Moshe to take his staff to the rock (v. 8), which implies that it would have some use there, and striking is a logical use. He cites various examples of other miracles in which Moshe was enjoined to speak, and used the staff in some fashion, and was not penalized for it. Then, too, there is the incontrovertible fact that it worked; striking the rock brought forth the necessary water.

Similarly, he dismisses the possibility that Moshe’s anger was the problem. Again, he cites other occasions on which Moshe became angry, without suffering dire consequences, and also notes that the Torah’s text here does not make an issue of Moshe’s anger (אמנם חז"ל מזכירין את כעסו, עיי' במדבר רבה פי"ט סי' ה'), and also the fact that Aharon was not a participant either in Moshe’s anger or in his striking the rock, and yet was included in the punishment.

Ramban then focuses on a comment by Rabbenu Chananel concerning the words Moshe spoke in anger: כי החטא הוא אמרם "המן הסלע הזה נוציא לכם מים" וראוי שיאמרו יוציא ד' לכם מים כו' וכן בכל הנסים יודיעום כי ד' יעשה עמהם להפליא, ואולי חשב העם כי משה ואברן בחכמתם הוציאו להם מים מן הסלע הזה, וזהו לא קדשתם אותי וגו' (“For the sin was their saying, ‘Is it from this rock that we should bring forth water for you?, when they should have said, that Ha-Shem should bring forth water for you.... And so with all of the miracles, they would inform them that Ha-Shem would act for them wondrously, and perhaps the people thought that Moshe and Aharon in their wisdom had brought forth water for them from this rock, and this is [what G-d meant by saying], You did not sanctify Me....”).

D.

It is in this observation cited by Ramban that I believe the key lies.

Rashi tells us that the expression כל העדה, ‘the whole community,” in XX, 1 is a clue שכבר מתו מתי מדבר ואלה פרשו לחיים (“that those who were to die in the desert had already died, and these remained alive;” ע"ע אבן עזרא שם). Despite their towering greatness in so many ways, the yotz’ei Mitzrayim demonstrated at the incident of the Golden Calf a marked tendency to magnify and exaggerate the importance of Moshe to their immediate existence, almost to the extent of deification. As Rashi tells us (Exodus XXXII, 1), they had miscalculated the day on which Moshe was scheduled to descend from Mt. Sinai with the Torah, and expected him a day early. When he did not come down, they quailed at the prospect of being marooned in the howling wilderness without their leader and mentor.

This regrettable tendency was doubtless a product of the exile in Egypt. Modern scholars have ascertained from ancient Egyptian sources that such prominent Egyptian deities as Osiris and Ptah were, in fact, deified human beings who had once walked the earth (ועיי' גם עבודה זרה מ"ג: שעשו המצרים ע"ז מיוסף הצדיק אחרי פטירתו ).

Moshe and Aharon, who had experienced that débâcle, should have been acutely aware of and sensitive to this possibility, even amongst the new, young generation. Moshe, in his momentary fit of anger, forgot it, and said what he said. And Aharon did not correct him....

Chazal tell us: הקב"ה מקדים הרפואה למכה (“The Holy One., Blessed is He, brings the cure before the affliction;” מגילה י"ג:). The atoning death of merciful Mother Miriam was already in place to offset the potential negative effect of Moshe’s remark, as we find so clearly hinted in its close proximity to the para adumma, itself atoning for the Golden Calf, which resulted from that first tendency to deify men.

Yet, this young generation, the first in two centuries to grow up independent of that pernicious Egyptian influence, required one last, sharp lesson: As Rashi tells us, the Torah is at pains to record that Hor ha-Har, the site of Aharon’s death, was on the border of Edom שמפני שנתחברו כאן להתקרב לעשו הרשע נפרצו מעשיהן וחסרו הצדיק הזה וגו' (“for because they had joined themselves here to draw near to the wicked Esav [ancestor of Edom] a breach was made in their works and they lost this tzaddiq....”).

The loss of Aharon at Hor ha-Har was their reminder that, to prosper, Israel must be an עם לבדד ישכן ובגיום לא יתחשב (“A people dwelling alone and not reckoned among the nations;” Numbers XXIII, 9), subject to the influences and tendencies of neither Egypt nor Edom.