Showing posts with label Shlach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shlach. Show all posts

Parshath Shëlah (Numbers XIII,1-XV,41) 6/17/11

A.

Our parasha tells the fateful story of the mëraggëlim, the “spies” sent by Moshe on the eve of the planned invasion of the Holy Land to scout out the land.

The men selected for this mission were not lightweights. In His instructions, G-d tells Moshe that if he would choose to send them, שלח לך אנשים כו' איש אחד איש אחד למטה אבתיו תשלחו כל נשיא בהם וגו' (“Send for yourself men [anashim]... one man each per the staff of his fathers will you send, every nasi’ [“prince, president”] amongst them....”; XIII, 2) At the time they were selected for the mission, Rashi tells us in a comment on ibid. 16, they were kashér, i.e., “suited to the task.”

Moshe instructed the mëraggëlim to infiltrate the country: וראיתם את הארץ מה הוא ואת העם הישב עלי' החזק הוא הרפה המעט הוא אם רב: ומה הארץ אשר הוא ישב בה הטובה הוא אם רעה ומה הערים אשר הוא ישב בהנה הבמחנים אם במבצרים: ומה הארץ השמנה היא אם רזה היש בה עץ אם אין והתחזקתם ולקחתם מפרי הארץ וגו' (“And you will see what the land is, and the people who dwell upon it, are they strong or weak, are they few or many. And what is the land in which they dwell, is it good or bad; and what are the cities in which they live, are they open or fortified? And what is the land, is it fat or thin, are there trees in it or not; and you will strengthen yourselves and take from the fruit of the land....”; ibid., 18-20).

Certainly part of Moshe’s instructions are reasonable, given that they were on the eve of a military operation, and also given the general perception that they were about to leave the cocoon of open miracles in which they had dwelt since leaving Egypt, with their food descending from the sky, Miriam’s well following them about, the clouds of glory protecting them from the sun’s heat, noxious creatures swept out of their path, etc., back into the derech ha-teva‘, the dispensation which we are pleased to think of as the “laws of nature” (עיי' ביחוד העמק דבר בענין זה). Under such “normal” conditions, the state of the enemy’s fortifications, his numbers and dispositions, the lay of the land, and so on, are things necessary to know. As Ramban points out in his famous comment on parshath Noah, we are not to depend upon open miracles; rather, we have to do the best we can within the “natural” framework, and pray that what we have done, and our merits, will suffice for G-d to look with favor on our enterprise.

But the instruction to note if the land is “good or bad,” “fat or thin,” is harder to understand. After all, G-d had already told them: וארד להצילו מיד מצרים ולהעלתו מן הארץ ההוא אל ארץ טובה ורחבה אל ארץ זבת חלב ודבש וגו' (“And I shall come down to rescue [Israel] from the hand of Egypt and to bring them up to a good and wide land, to a land flowing with milk and honey....”; Exodus III, 8), a promise which had been repeated again and again (ibid., 17; XIII, 5; XXIII, 3; Leviticus XX, 24, inter alia). Why should Moshe ask the question? And why should he make the peculiar demand that they “strengthen themselves” in order to take from the fruit of the land? What was the real charge given the mëraggëlim and in what did they fail?



B.

We begin by again noting that human beings are unique creatures, composed of a physical nature, the body and the nefesh which animates it and serves its needs and urges, and a spiritual, metaphysical nature, the nëshama which has the capacity to exercise control over the former and direct its urges. The inherent conflict between these two elements enables us to earn rewards, when the nëshama’s capacity is used properly to control and direct the body’s passions into constructive channels, or, halila, punishments, should the nëshama abdicate control and permit the nefesh to override it.

Hazal picture the physical universe, ha-‘olam ha-ze, as the end of a long process of “thickening” or “coarsening”, such that original, ethereal, metaphysical energy, or, becomes manifest as gross matter, or homer; how much or this thickening or coarsening locks up in homer may be gauged from the vast amount of already “thickened” physical energy present in any mass, demonstrated by Einstein’s famous equation E=mc², in which the physical constant c represents the speed of light (186,000 km/sec), and m the mass itself; the square of their product is E, the amount of energy.

The term used in the Holy Language to describe this phenomenon is hithgashmuth, and its end result is gashmiyuth, “materiality,” as distinct from ruhniyuth, “spirituality.” The body, formed of the material extruded at the end of the process, is compared by Hazal to a “shoe,” in that just as a very small, lower extremity of a relatively large body is inserted into a shoe, so is a small, lower extremity of a far larger metaphysical structure inserted into the body (עיי' נפש החיים ש"א פ"ה, פי' ובחרת בחיים שם אות ה' המבוסס על מאמרז"ל בברכות נ"ז:). The nëshama is thus inserted or infused into a body which is inherently part and parcel of the materiality of this world of gashmiyuth, whence it derives its nourishment and sustenance. It is this which underlay the discomfort felt by the bënei Yisra’él with the miraculous food from the sky, the man, about which they tellingly complained ונפשנו קצה בלחם הקלקל (“...and our nefesh is revolted by the ethereal [qëloqél] bread”; Numbers XXI, 5, Rashi ad loc.), presumably so called because, less materialistic than “normal” food, it was absorbed directly into every limb of the body and did not generate any waste products (עיי' עבודה זרה ה.). The word qëloqél, a hapaxlegomenon, appears to be a reduplicated, very intensive form of the more common word qal, “light.” We have here an illustration of the obstacles to be overcome in the unceasing struggle to assert the primacy of ruhniyuth over gashmiyuth.

The high drama of this struggle is present at every së‘uda, as Hazal tell us: בעל הבית בוצע כדי שיבצע בעין יפה ומשלים ברכתא ולבתר בוצע ואוקמוה רבנן דמתנית' דאין המסובין רשאין לטעום עד שיטעום המברך ולית הבוצע רשאי לטעום עד שיכלה אמן מפי המסובין וגו' (“The master of the household cuts [bread] in order to cut it generously, and completes the blessing, and afterwards cuts [it]; and the Rabbis of the Mishna established it that the guests are not permitted to taste [it] until the one reciting the blessing tastes [it]; and the one cutting [the bread] is not permitted to taste [it] until amén dies away from the mouths of the guests....”), concluding ולית חד אכיל אלא מאן דנצח קרבא איהו אכיל ובוצע לכולהו (“And no-one eats save he who is victorious in the battle; he eats, and cuts [it] for all the rest”; זוה"ק ח"ג רב"ע.). Only after all the steps have been taken to elevate the gashmiyuth to a sublimely ethereal level of ruhniyuth, by reciting the appropriate blessing or answering amén, does it become safe for us to partake of it.



C.


An allusion to this struggle may be found in the very word for which our parasha is named, shëlah – “send.” As a glance at the Targum Onqëlos on XIII, 2 shows, the root has the identical meaning in both Hebrew and Aramaic. However, if we turn, for instance, to Numbers XX, 28, we read: ויפשט משה את אהרן את בגדיו וגו' (“And Moshe stripped [va-yafshét] Aharon of his clothes...”); Onqëlos there renders the verb vë-ashlah, the Af‘él (equivalent of the causative Hif‘il in Hebrew) of our verb, i.e., “cast away” or “off.” The word is used similarly in the Talmud: Commenting on the phrase שלח אחוי, Rashi writes: אם אינך בעל מום הפשט בגדיך ונראה (“If you are not blemished, take off your clothes and we shall see”; קידושין ס"ו: רש"י שם דה"מ שלח אחוי וע"ע תוספות שם דה"מ שלח).


And so, says the Birkath Tov: וזהו "שלח" שיפשוט "לך" כאשר אתה הולך "לך" לאכול ולשתות אז תפשוט "אנשים" כלומר את בחינת "אנשים" האנושיות תראה להפשיט שלא תכוון לתענוג ולהנאה הגשמיות וגו' (“And this is ‘shëlah,’ that you strip away the ‘you’; when you go for yourself to eat or drink, then you should strip away the anashim, the category of ‘men’; human frailty [enoshiyuth] should you seek to strip away, that your intent not be physical pleasure and enjoyment....”), but rather strive to elevate the physical necessity of consumption to a higher, spiritual level by “stripping away” the physical man and exposing instead the inner or of the metaphysical nëshama. The true sense of the word enoshiyuth, from enosh, “human being,” becomes clear when one realizes that it is derived from a root signifying “weak, sickly, mortal” (cf. its uses in, e.g., Psalms LXII, 21 or Daniel VI, 8, 13).

This, I believe, is why such great men were designated the mëraggëlim, rather than mere foot-soldiers, and what Moshe sought to warn them against: That as they descended back into the derech ha-teva‘, they not forget that the ‘olam is ma‘alim [“conceals”; the root meaning of the word], actual, metaphysical reality behind the physical façade. He knew that the fruits of the Holy Land would be prodigious (cf. XIII, 23-24), and bade them strengthen themselves, that they resist the urge of their physical nature, once out from under the metaphysical cocoon in which they had been traveling, to rush to rejoin the more familiar, more “normal” physicality which they would find around them.

Alas, only two of the mëraggëlim were able to stand the trial: Yëhoshua‘ bin Nun, protected by the zëchuth of the additional letter from the Tetragrammaton which his teacher, Moshe, had added to his name (cf. ibid., 16, במדבר רבה פט"ז סי' ז' וע"ע ירושלמי סנהדרין פ"ב ה"ו דגם זכות שרה אמנו עמדה לו שהרי היו"ד ניטלה משמה ונוספה לשמו ), and Kalév ben Yëfunneh, protected by the zëchuth of tëfilla at the qivrei avoth of Hevron (עיי' סוטה ל"ד:), were able to resist the descent into gashmiyuth which, for the others, led them to forget that G-d was on their side, and to panic at the sight of the prodigious “Fortress Këna‘an” on whose conquest they were considering embarking.



D.

Read in this way, the account of the mëraggëlim is indeed a cautionary tale for us, both with regard to the dangers of immersing ourselves too much in the ‘olam ha-gashmi, but also concerning the things which will serve to rescue us from it: Tëfilloth, bërachoth, and zëchuth avoth.

Forewarned is forearmed: Knowing what we face during our sojourn in this world, we can strive to have the proper kavvanoth when we have to take sustenance. This recognition, for instance, underlies the custom many people have, before partaking of the special delicacies which grace our shabbath and yom tov tables, of saying first לכבוד שבת קדש or לכבוד יום טוב, that eating them be in honor of shabbath or yom tov, and not, as the Rebbe reminds us, simply לתענוג ולהנאה הגשמיות, for the physical pleasure and enjoyment.

Another stratagem to secure victory in our battle with the yétzer ha-ra‘.

Parshath Shëlah (Numbers XII,1-XV,42) 6/4/10

A.

Our parasha deals with the painful episode of the mëraggëlim, the spies whom Moshe sent forth, as he thought, on the eve of the invasion of the Holy Land, and who brought back a report so disastrously bad, which so undermined the morale of the bënei Yisra’él, that G-d postponed the invasion until virtually the entire generation had died out in the desert, thirty-nine years later.

Our parasha opens: וידבר ד' אל משה לאמר: שלח לך אנשים ויתרו את ארץ כנען וגו' (“And Ha-Shem spoke to Moshe to say: Send for yourself [Shëlah lëcha] men, and they will tour the land of Canaan....”). The Talmud examines that initial phrase, and concludes that it means מדעתך, וכי אדם זה נורר חלק רע לעצמו?! והיינו דכתיב "וייטב בעיני הדבר", אמר ריש לקיש, בעיני ולא בעיניו של מקום (“From your knowledge; does a person choose a bad portion for himself?! This is what is written: ‘And the matter seemed good in my eyes’ [Deuteronomy I, 22]; said Réysh Laqish, ‘in my eyes’, and not in the eyes of G-d”; סוטה ל"ד:).

Rashi expands upon and paraphrases this passage as follows: לדעתך אני איני מצוה לך אם תרצה שלח לפי שבאו ישראל ואמרו נשלחה אמשים לפנינו כו' ומשה נמלך בשכינה אמר אני אמרתי להם שהיא טובה וכו' חייהם שאני נותן להם מקום לטעות בדברי המרגלים למען לא יירשוה (“For your knowledge, I am not commanding you; if you wish, send, as Israel had come and said, 'Let us send men before us [Deuteronomy, ibid.]...' And Moshe consulted the Divine Presence [nimlach ba-Shëchina], '[Who] said, I told them that [the Land] is good....' By their lives that I am giving them room to err through the words of the mëraggëlim so that they will not inherit it”). Rashi’s rendition of the passage suggests an even stronger warning to Moshe that the mëraggëlim would come to no good. Whether we prefer Réysh Laqish’s “from your knowledge” or Rashi’s “for your knowledge,” the Divine reservations about the enterprise seem pretty clear.

Furthermore, the midrash asks the following: מה ראה לומר אחר מעשה מרים "שלח לך אנשים"? אלא שהי' צפוי לפני הקב"ה שיאמרו לשון הרע על הארץ אמר הקב"ה שלא יהיו אומרים לא היינו יודעין עונש לשון הרע לפיכך סמך הקב"ה זה לזה שדברה מרים באחי' ולקתה בצרעת כדי שידעו הכל עונשו של לשון הרע וגו' (“What did [G-d] see to say after the affair of Miriam [cf. chapter XI, in which she said lashon ha-ra‘ about Moshe and was punished] ‘send out men’? But it was foreseen before the Holy One, Blessed is He that they would say lashon ha-ra‘ about the [Holy] Land; said the Holy One, Blessed is He, 'That they not be saying we did not know the penalty for lashon ha-ra‘.' Therefore, the Holy One, Blessed is He, juxtaposed one to the other, that Miriam spoke against her brother and was stricken with tzora‘ath in order that everyone should know the penalty for lashon ha-ra‘....”; במדבר רבה פט"ז סי' ה').

Here the advance Divine disapproval seems even more palpable. Why did Moshe do it?

B.

Our question is one of several which bother Ramban about Rashi’s version of events. His objections may be summarised as follows:

1) If Moshe indeed “nimlach ba-Shëchina” concerning whether or not to send out the mëraggëlim, how was he any less a sinner than the rest of the people? After all, Moshe, too, had heard G-d’s testimony that the Holy Land was good’ why did he not believe it?

2) Moshe admits in the verse quoted above from Deuteronomy וייטב בעיני, “and it seemed good in my eyes”; why did such a course of action seem good to Moshe?

3) What, exactly, was the sin of the mëraggëlim? They had been sent out to report on the conditions which they found, and they reported on them: באנו אל הארץ אשר שלחתנו וגם זבת חלב ודבש הוא וזה פרי': אפס כי עז העם הישב בארץ והערים בצרות גדלת מאד וגם ילידי הענק ראינו שם: (“...We came to the land whither you sent us and it is also flowing with milk and honey and this is its fruit. But the people who dwell in the land are strong and the cities are fortified, very large, and we also saw descendants of giants there”; XIII, 27-28). What, then, did they do wrong? Moshe had sent them to find out what the country was like, and by all accounts they reported honestly on what they had found, bringing typical, if gigantic, examples of the local produce.

4) Moshe himself subsequently admitted the great difficulty of the task of conquest before them: להוריש גוים גדלים ועצמים ממך להביאך לתת לך את ארצם וגו' (“To disinherit nations greater and mightier than you, to bring you and give you their land....”; Deuteronomy IV, 38), making him again, it would seem, no less culpable than the mëraggëlim.

5) Finally, what could Moshe have been thinking when he sent out the mëraggëlim to see החזק הוא הרפה (“was it strong or weak”; XIII, 18), if he was convinced that the news that it was strong would cause the people’s hearts to quail and send them running back to Egypt (as is evident from Exodus XIII, 17: ולא נחם אל'ים דרך ארץ פלשתים כו' פן ינחם העם בראתם מלחמה ושבו מצרימה: (“...and G-d did not let them [go] by way of the land of the Pëlishtim... lest the people reconsider when they see warfare and return to Egypt”)?

If we revisit Deuteronomy I, 22 and read the entire verse, the people’s request, of which Moshe approved, seems eminently reasonable: נשלחה אנשים לפנינו ויחפרו לנו את הארץ וישבו אתנו דבר את הדרך אשר נעלה בה ואת הערים אשר נבא אליהן (“Let us send men before us, and they uncover for us the land and bring us back word on the way on which we shall ascend and the cities to which we shall come”). Any regular military expedition in which the attacking force is unfamiliar with the terrain and the roads along which the approach can be made, begins with sending out scouts. Yehoshua‘ did precisely this, after all, as he was approaching Yëricho, with complete Divine approval (cf. Joshua II, 1ff.). Ramban himself famously remarks that one is not allowed to depend upon miracles, but must do everything within human capability first, in his comments on the inadequacy of the dimensions of Noah’s teiva to hold all of the animals required.

So what else should Moshe have done? Why was it wrong to send out the mëraggëlim?

C.

The problem lay not in the wording of their request, but in the intentions behind it.
The Maharal mi-Prag spells out the issue in his Gur Aryeh. Moshe took the request for reconnaissance mission as the reasonable request it was והי' נמלך בהקדוש ברוך הוא שאין לעשות בלא עצה, והקדוש ברוך הוא ראה מה שבתוך לבם הרע שלא הי' זה בלבבם רק תואנה, וכוונתם שלא היו מאמינים שהארץ טובה ושמא חזקים הם ולא יוכלו לכבוש אותם והיו יראים מהם אלא שלא רצו לדבר מזה דבר ותלו את הדבר שישלחו מרגלים לתור להם הדרך אשר יעלו בה וגו' (“and consulted with the Holy One, Blessed is He, for one should not act without advice, and the Holy One, Blessed is He saw what was in their evil hearts, that there was nothing in their hearts save rebellion, and their intent was that they did not believe that the land was good, and perhaps [its inhabitants] were strong and they would be unable to conquer them and were afraid of them; but they did not wish to say anything about this, and made it dependent on sending out spies to tour the way on which they would ascend....”).

So G-d saw what Moshe could not, the underlying motive behind the reasonable request. Why, then, did He not tell Moshe not to send out the mëraggëlim? Why leave it as a discretionary matter?

Rashi tells us that it was to provide “room to err with the words of the mëraggëlim,” or, as Hazal tell us elsewhere, הבא לטמא פותחין לו (“Someone who comes [with the intent] to defile, a way is opened for him”; שבת ק"ד.). As human beings, imagines Dei, we have moral autonomy. Herein, apparently, lies the meaning of the idiomatic construction involving the imperative form of the verb and the word lëcha. Avraham was told by G-d, לך לך מארצך כו' ואעשך לגוי גדול וגו' (“Go for yourself from your country... And I shall make you into a great nation....”; Genesis XII, 1-2). This is construed as a command, not as a request, but Avraham could have declined to follow it, with the consequence that he and his progeny would have faded into history, and G-d’s covenant would have been with someone else.

With this thought in mind, consider what the Maharal says about why Moshe persisted in sending the spies: ולפיכך אמר להם משה שישלחו המרגלים כו' אולי יחזרו בהם ולא ישלחו כשיראו שאני מצוה להם לשלוח ולראות אלמלא לא הי' טובה לא הייתי אומר להם לראות על כל דבר ודבר וגו' (“and therefore Moshe told them that they should send the spies... perhaps they will reconsider and not send [them] when they see that I am ordering them to send and to see; were [the Land] not good, I wouldn’t tell them to see about each and every thing....”). Moshe had to give the yotz’ei Mitzrayim scope for moral autonomy, the “room to err” of which Rashi writes. Sadly, they exercised it.

D.

And finally, what, exactly, did the mëraggëlim themselves do wrong? A clue is available to us in another observation which Hazal make concerning their report. Commenting on verse 27, we learn: כל לשון הרע שאין בו דבר אמת בתחלתו אין מתקיים בסופו (“Any instance of lashon ha-ra‘ which does not have at its beginning a word of truth does not endure at its end”; סוטה ל"ה.).

This suggests that we turn to the next verse for our answer, and we see that it begins with the word efes, here translated “but” or “however.” Efes is the negation or diminution of what has gone before it (whence its use to denote “zero” in modern Hebrew), and it gives away the show.
Had the mëraggëlim simply reported: “The land is flowing with milk and honey; here is its fruit. The inhabitants are strong, their cities well fortified,” or words to that effect, they would simply have been discharging their mission. By prefacing the second verse with efes, they were expressing their opinion that the inhabitants were too strong, their cities too well fortified, to make the rich and fruitful land obtainable.

In such small subtleties does the difference between lashon ha-ra‘ and a simple, accurate report rest.

Parshath Shlach (Numbers XIII,1-XV,40) 6/19/09

A.


Our parasha tells the tragic story of the m’ragglim, the spies whom Moshe sent into Canaan in advance of Israel’s invasion. The m’ragglim brought back a largely negative report concerning the awesome military capabilities of the Canaanite tribes, which incited the bnei Yisra’él to panic and despair. The direct result was the forty-year sojourn in the desert, during which all of the adult yotz’ei Mitzrayim perished, before Yehoshua led to successful conquest of the land.


As the m’ragglim entered the country, we read: ויעלו בנגב ויבאו עד חברון ושם אחימן ששי ותלמי ילידי הענק וחברון שבע שהים נבנתה לפני צען מצרים (“And they ascended into the Negev and came to Chevron, and there were Achiman, Sheshai, and Talmai, sons of the giant [he-‘anaq]; and Chevron had been built seven years before Tzo‘an of Egypt”; XIII, 22).

The last clause of our verse seems out of place and irrelevant. Since Moshe sent the m’ragglim out to gather current military and economic intelligence about the Canaanites, why does our verse mention the historical datum that Chevron was founded seven years before Tzo‘an? Rashi was clearly bothered by this (as the Sifthei Chachamim points out) and for that reason looks to the Talmud for relevance, telling us שהיתה מבונה בכל טוב על אחד שבעה בצוען (“that [Chevron] was built up of every good thing seven times over Tzo‘an”; עפ"י סוטה ל"ד).

Ramban is in turn bothered by Rashi’s departure from the pshat, the “simple meaning,” and goes on to lay out the pshat, based on Joshua XIV, 15: Chevron is a later name for the city called Qiryath Arba‘ (“the City of Arba‘”), named after its founder. Arba‘ had a son named ‘Anaq (“Giant”, after whom the city’s inhabitants came to be called ‘anaqim), who in turn had Achiman, Sheshai, and Talmai. The reason for the historical reference, concludes Ramban, is to point out that just as the rulers of Chevron were prodigious in stature, so were they long-lived, since Arba’s grandsons were still alive so many generations after the city’s founding, Tzo‘an being a very ancient Egyptian city, probably founded sometime between 1996, the year of the Great Dispersion of mankind from Shin‘ar, and 2023, the year in which Avraham arrived in the Holy Land, encountered the famine, and took refuge in Egypt, then already an organised state with a government calling itself par ‘o, “big house” in Egyptian (remembering that the current year is 5769).

The only problem in Ramban’s explanation is that our verse refers to the three ‘anaqim as yelidei he-‘anaq, with the definite prefix; it is certainly not normal usage in the Holy Language (unlike, say, in Greek) to attach the definite article to a proper name.

שבעים פנים לתורה, Chazal tell us: Everything in the Torah has seventy facets (אותיות דרבי עקיבא). Given the small grammatical difficulty with the Ramban’s otherwise cogent suggestion, perhaps we are justified in looking for yet another explanation of the apparently incongruous historical reference.


B.

We begin by going even farther back in history than the founding of Chevron or Tzo‘an. Immediately after the Mabbul, on leaving the teiva, the Torah records that Noach planted a vine-yard (Genesis IX, 20). Rashi comments on the verse, following the midrash: כשנכנס לתיבה הכניס עמו זמורות ויחורי תאינים (“When [Noach] had entered the teiva, he brought in with him cuttings [of grapevines] and shoots of figs”).

Noach, in other words, had acted quite deliberately to preserve these two fruits, which the Sifthei Chachamim ad loc. in Rashi calls: נטיעות המביאין לידי תאוה (“plantings which lead to lust”) as we know from the rest of the passage, ibid., vv. 22-26. Indeed, the Talmud debates whether it was the fig or the grape which was the forbidden fruit of the ‘étz ha-da‘ath tov va-ra‘; incontrovertibly the fig was what the first couple used, after discovering that they were naked, to clothe themselves (ibid., III, 7, Rashi ad loc.); אין לך דבר המביא יללה על האדם אלא היין (“There is nothing that brings woe upon a person like wine”; ברכות מ.).

These particular fruits, part of Cham’s “tool kit”, as it were, were probably prominent in his inheritance from his father, more so than in that of his much more virtuous brothers Shem and Yefeth. When it comes to matters of ta’ava and chét’, “lust” and “sin,” it is well documented in both Biblical and extra-Biblical sources that the Egyptians, sons of Mitzrayim ben Cham, and the Canaanites, sons of Kna‘an ben Cham, were engaged in a race to the hedonistic bottom. Is there a way to determine which of them had “pride of place” in this debased competition?

C.

If we return to our parasha, and read the very next verse, we find that on leaving Chevron the m’ragglim traveled along Nachal Eshkol, ויכרתו משם זמורה ואשכל ענבים אחד כו' ומן הרמונים ומן התאנים (“and they cut from there a cutting and one bunch of grapes [eshkol, whence the place-name]...and of the pomegranates and of the figs”). One can ask why they might have picked these fruits in particular, rather than some other produce of the land?

Of the three types mentioned, the t’éna or fig is unique in that, the Talmud tells us, there are two quite distinct species which fall under that designation: One type which ripens very quickly, within the space of 52 days, and another type, called bnoth sheva‘, because they take as much as seven (sheva‘) years to ripen (עיי' בכורות ח., תוספות שם ד"ה בנות).

Armed with this information, we can construct this scenario: If two farmers, Re’uven and Shim‘on decide to plant figs, and Re’uven plants his before Shim‘on, it does not necessarily follow that Re’uven will enjoy his fruit before Shim‘on, since Re’uven may have planted bnoth sheva‘, and Shim‘on the quick-ripening variety. If, however, Re’uven planted his figs at least seven years before Shim‘on, there would be no question as to who it was who had the use of the fruit first.

This, I think, is possibly what the juxtaposition of our two verses is coming to tell us: The fact that Chevron was built seven years before the oldest city in Egypt suggests that the Canaanites had the use of these “sinful fruits” before they came into use in Egypt. (In this connection, it is perhaps apropos to note that although the Egyptians had a word for wine -- spelt ’rp and pronounced arp in Coptic -- their most common drink, as attested in innumerable inscriptions and archaeological finds, was beer [ħnqt, in the old language; the word does not appear to have been preserved in Coptic]. Wine must have ben relatively rare, an aristocratic drink).

Hence, these fruits would not necessarily have been so familiar to the bnei Yisra’él, and would have been viewed as characteristic of and native to the new country they were about to conquer. That is why they gathered them, specifically. It is surely not coincidental that the three fruits listed, grapes, figs, and pomegranates, are amongst the famous seven crops through which the Holy Land is praised (cf. Deuteronomy VIII, 8).

Which leads us to an even deeper significance; aside from its more doleful aspects, wine is also a sacred food. It is used for nesachim, “libations” to accompany sacrifices, and Sabbath and holiday are sanctified over a cup of wine. Indeed, there is a specific mitzva of simchath yom tov, “rejoicing on a holiday,” and Chazal also assert: אין שמחה אלא ביין (“There is no simcha without wine”; פסחים ק"ט.). So what is it that pulls its “sting” and makes it fit for holy purposes?

D.

Another of the Torah’s 613 mitzvoth is the bringing of bikkurim, “first fruits,” of any of the seven crops mentioned in Deuteronomy supra: Wheat, barley, grapes, figs, pomegranates, olive oil and date honey (cf. ibid., XXVI, 1-11). The mishna tells what the Jewish farmer has to do: כיצד מפרידין הבכורים? יורד אדם בתוך שדהו ורואה תאנה שבכרה, אשכול שבכר, רמון שבכר, קושרו בגמי ואומר הרי אלו הבכורים וגו' (“How does one separate the bikkurim? A person goes down into his field and sees a fig which has ripened, an eshkol which has ripened, a pomegranate which has ripened; he ties it with grass and says, These are the bikkurim”; בכורים פ"ג מ"א).

Note that in the list of crops through which the Holy land is praised, figs, grapes, and pomegranates are grouped together; note also that even though bringing bikkurim can be accomplished with any of the seven, our mishna quite specifically lists the same three which the m’ragglim selected as characteristic of the Holy Land.

I have heard from credible sources in the name of the Arizal that the mitzva of bikkurim functions as a tiqqun, a corrective, for the sin of the m’ragglim, when it is performed with the proper kavvanoth, “intentions, directed thoughts.” Where they slandered the Holy Land, we correct their error by showing our profound appreciation of the Land and the seven special crops which particularly characterize it; the wording of our mishna, I believe, alludes directly to the tiqqun chét’ ha-m’ragglim, and it is this use of these fateful crops for mitzvoth which renders them fit for human consumption once again.

Parshath Shlach (Numbers XIII,1-XV,41) 6/20/08

A.


ויהיו בני ישראל במדבר וימצאו איש מקשש עצים ביום השבת: ויקריבט אתו המצאים אתו מקשש עצים אל משה ואל אהרן ואל כל העדה: ויניחו אתו במשמר כי לא פרש מה יעשה לו: ויאמר ד' אל משה מות יומת האיש רגום אתו באבנים כל העדה מחוץ למחנה: ויביאו אתו כל העדה אל מחוץ למחנה וירגמו אתו באבנים וימת כאשר צוה ד' את משה: (“And the bnei Yisra’él were in the desert and they found a man gathering wood on the Sabbath day. And those finding that gatherer of wood brought him close to Moshe and to Aharon and to the whole community. And they placed him under guard, for it had not been clarified what was to be done with him. And Ha-Shem said to Moshe, 'Dying, the man shall be put to death; pile him up with stones, the whole community outside the camp.' And the whole community brought him outside the camp, and piled him with stones, and he died, as Ha-Shem had commanded Moshe;” XIII, 32-36).

The Talmud tells us that this “gatherer of wood” (m’qoshésh ‘etzim) was in fact Tzlofchad ben Chefer of the tribe of M’nashe (cf. Numbers XXVII, 1-11): וכן הוא אומר "ויהיו בני ישראל במדבר וימצאו איש" וגו' ולהלן הוא אומר "אבינו מת במדבר", מה להלן צלפחד אף כאן צלפחד, דברי רבי עקיבא. אמר לו רבי יהודה בן בתירא, עקיבא, בין כך ובין כך אתה עתיד ליתן את הדין. אם כדבריך, התורה כסתו, אתה מגלה אותו?! ואם לאו, אתה מוציא לעז על אותו צדיק (“And so it says, ‘And the bnei Yisra’él were in the desert and found a man....’, and later on it says, ‘Our father died in the desert,’ just as later on [it refers to] Tzlofchad, so here [it refers to] Tzlofchad, [in] the words of Rabbi ‘Aqiva. Rabbi Yehuda ben Betheira said to him, ‘Aqiva, one way or the other you are going to be held accountable. If it is as you say, the Torah concealed it, and you are revealing it?! And if not, then you are heaping scorn on that tzaddiq;” שבת צ"ו:).

Rabbi ‘Aqiva deduces from the wording of both verses, through the second rule of Talmudic logic, the gzeira shava, that the “wood gatherer” and Tzlofchad are one and the same. Rabbi Yehuda ben Betheira protests that either way, Rabbi ‘Aqiva is in the wrong: He has either revealed what the Torah wished to keep hidden, or he has defamed an innocent man. In either case, Tzlofchad’s reputation is ruined for all time.

The gmara continues: ואלא הא גמר גזירה שוה! ג"ש לא גמר (“But [Rabbi ‘Aqiva] learnt a gzeira shava! [Rabbi Yehuda ben Betheira] did not learn that gzeira shava;” שם, צ"ז. ).

The exchange is really quite remarkable. If Rabbi ‘Aqiva had reason to believe that a gzeira shava existed concerning these two verses, Rashi tells us, א"כ לא כסתו התורה דהוה לי' כמפורש (“If so, the Torah did not conceal it; for [Rabbi ‘Aqiva], it was as though it was stated explicitly”).


So if Rabbi Yehuda ben Betheira disagreed with Rabbi ‘Aqiva, fair enough; what lies behind his rather sharp rebuke of Rabbi ‘Aqiva?


B.

Our question is sharpened when we note that there are numerous other instances in which Tanna’im and Amora’im differ sharply concerning one or another aspect of the character of a Biblical personage which becomes clear only when viewed through the Talmudic lens, and yet do not engage in such provocative rhetoric.For instance, we find a dispute in which a number of Chachamim take up sides as to whether or not the first man was basically a tzaddiq or a rasha‘, and yet none of those who hold the former view accuse those who hold the latter of defamation of character (סנהדרין ל"ח:, יד הרמ"ה שם, וע"ע עירובין י"ח: ).

Another example may be found concerning Yosef. The Torah testifies that he returned to his master’s house on an Egyptian holiday לעשות מלאכתו, “to do his work” (Genesis XXXIX, 11), and Rav and Shmu’el differ as to whether the term means actual work, or hanky-panky with his master’s wife, who had complained that she was sick and stayed home from the festivities. Yet, Rav does not accuse Shmu’el of impugning Yosef’s character (סוטה ל"ו:).

In yet another example, the Torah attests נח איש צדיק תמים הי' בדרתיו (“Noach was a perfectly righteous man in his generations;” Genesis VI, 9), and Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Laqish square off as to whether “in his generations” means that he was all the more praiseworthy and righteous despite his debased generation, or that he was righteous only with respect to the depravity of his generation. Yet again, there is no accusation of character assassination (סנהדרין ק"ט.).

So, as we can see, Rabbi Yehuda ben Betheira’s characterization of Rabbi ‘Aqiva because of his opinion is quite exceptional.

C.

There is a famous passage in which Yechezqel is shown a valley strewn with dry, human bones. G-d commands the prophet to speak, and the bones are again clothed in flesh and resurrected (Ezekiel XXXVII, 1-14).

The Talmud says of these bones, אלו בני אפרים שמנו לקץ וטעו, שנאמר "ובני אפרים שותלח וברד בנו ותחת ובנו ואלעדה בנו ותחת בנו: וזבד בנו ושותלח בנו ועזר ואלעד והרגום אנשי גת הנולדים בארץ וגו' ויתאבל אפרים אביהם ויבאו אחיו לנחמו" (“These are the bnei Efrayim who calculated the end [of the Egyptian exile] and erred, as it is said, ‘And bnei Efrayim, Shuthelach and Bered his son, and Tachath and his son and El‘ada his son and Tachath his son. And Zavad his son and Shuthelach his son and ‘Ezer and El‘ad, and the men of Gath who were born in the land killed them.... And Efrayim their father mourned, and his brothers came to comfort him;” I Chronicles VII, 20-22).

It was the whitening bones of these bnei Efrayim, who had made an early and ill-fated dash for freedom from Egyptian bondage, which G-d feared would dismay the bnei Yisra’él during the Exodus, פן ינחם העם בראותם מלחמה ושבו מצרימה (“lest the people have regrets when they see warfare and return to Egypt;” Exodus XIII, 17).

And the Talmud tells us מתים שהחי' יחזקאל עלו לארץ ישראל ונשאו נשים ויולידו בנים ובנות. עמד ר"י בן בתירא על רגליו ואמר, אני מבני בניהם ואלו תפילין שהניח לי אבי אבא מהם (“The dead whom Yechezqel revived immigrated to Eretz Yisra’él and married women and sired sons and daughters. Rabbi Yehuda ben Betheira stood up on his feet and said, 'I am from their descendants, and these are the t’fillin which my father’s father left me from them;'” סנהדרין צ"ב:).

With a little thought, this clears the matter up.

A gzeira shava, which depends on the similarity of two words in disparate verses, requires a legitimate tradition that the relationship exists in order to be valid. This only stands to reason, since all manner of weird conclusions could result from the random comparison of like words in any two verses. Rabbi ‘Aqiva, then, and most of his contemporaries were quite convinced of the existence of such a tradition concerning Tzlofchad, one which dated all the way back to the actual incident described in our parasha.

But Rabbi Yehuda ben Betheira, whose ancestor had been whitening bones in the desert at the time of the incident of the m’qoshésh ‘etzim, had no such tradition; his ancestor had been revived only during the time of Yechezqel, during the Babylonian exile, long after the event. Hence, his vehement protests that there was no reason to defame Tzlofchad, whether by saying something untrue, or by revealing what was meant to be hidden. For him, there was no such gzeira shava, and he therefore questioned the propriety of Rabbi ‘Aqiva’s making explicit what, for him, the Oral Torah had not stated explicitly.

D.

Here is a striking illustration of how utterly accurate and reliable was the transmission of the Torah tradition to Chazal, and how that tradition clarifies and illuminates the Biblical texts and the incidents they report.

Parshath Shlach (Numbers XIII,1-XV,41) 6/8/07

A.

Our parasha tells the story of the m’ragglim, the ill-fated spies whom Moshe sent into Canaan on what he believed was the eve of the Israelite invasion. In evidence of the vast agricultural capacity of the Holy Land, they selected some prodigiously-sized fruits to bring home with them: ויכרתו משם זמורה ואשכול ענבים אחד וישאהו במוט בשנים ומן הרמנים ומן התאנים (“And they cut from there a branch and one eshkol [“bunch”] of grapes and they carried it on a pole with two [men], and [one] of the pomegranates and [one] of the figs”; XIII, 23).

Near the end of our parasha, we find: כי תבאו אל ארץ מושבתיכם אשר אני נתן לכם ועשיתם אשה לד' עלה כו' והקריב המקריב קרבנו לד' כו' ויין לנסך רביעית ההין תעשה על העלה וגו' (“For you will come to the land of your settlements which I am giving you. And you shall make a burnt offering to Ha-Shem, an ôla.... And the sacrificer will offer his sacrifice to Ha-Shem.... And wine for a libation, a quarter of a hin you shall make upon the ôla....”; XV, 2-5).

The Ramban, commenting on this passage, noted that the obligation to pour nesachim (“libations”) only became fully operational after Israel had actually entered the Holy Land, כי במדבר לא נתחייבו בנסכים לבד מתמיד שנאמר בו "ונסך רביעית ההין יין לכבש האחד" כי שם נאמר "פתח אהל מועד לפני ד' אשר אועד לכם שמה לדבר אליך" (“for in the wilderness they were not obligated in nesachim save for the Tamid, concerning which it is said ‘and a nesech, a quarter hin of wine for the one sheep’ [Exodus XXIX, 40], for it is [also] said there ‘[the Tamid will be offered at] the entrance to the Tent of Assembly before Ha-Shem, where I shall appear to you to speak to you [ibid., 42]’”). Since G-d spoke to Moshe in the Mishkan in the desert, it follows that nesachim were offered with the twice-daily Tamid sacrifice.

This arouses a question in the midrash (שיר השירים רבה פ"ד סי' כ"ו, עיי' מתנת כהונה שם), namely, where did all this wine come from?

Consider: A hin is a unit of volume, equivalent to 4,147 cc. This means that each and every day that the Mishkan existed, a half a hin or approximately 2,073 cc of wine were poured out. The Mishkan was first erected on 1 Nisan 2449, a bit less than a year after the Exodus (which took place on 14 Nisan 2448). The m’ragglim were sent out 29 Sivan of that year, and their disastrous report was delivered 40 days later on 9 Av (Numbers XIII, 25, תענית כ"ט.). Even if one suggests that the bnei Yisraél presciently brought all of this wine with them from Egypt, neither they nor Moshe had any inkling at the time of the Exodus that they would spend a total of 40 years in the desert.

So where did all the wine come from? Answers the midrash, from that gigantic bunch of grapes which the m’ragglim brought from Canaan.

B.

To see how this could be, we begin with a Talmudic analysis of Numbers XIII, 23: "וישאהו במוט בשנים", ממשמע שנאמר "במוט" איני יודע שבשנים?! מה תלמוד לומר "בשנים"? בשני מוטות. אמר רבי יצחק, טורטני וטורטני דטורטני, הא כיצד? שמנה נשאו אשכל, אחד נשא רמון, ואחד נשא תאנה, יהושע וכלב לא נשאו כלום (“‘And they carried it on a pole with two’ -- from the meaning of what is said, ‘on a pole’, do I not know that it was with two?! What does ‘with two’ come to tell me? With two poles. Said Rabbi Yitzchaq, [There were] loads, and loads of loads, how? Eight [men] carried the eshkol, one carried the pomegranate, one carried the fig, and Yehoshua and Kalev carried nothing”; סוטה ל"ד.). Others say that Yehoshua and Kalev did participate in carrying the fruit ( למשל דעת רבי ישמעאל בירושלמי סוטה פ"ז ה"ה, וע"ע זוה"ק ח"ג דף ק"ס: לדעת אחרת).

A bit earlier on the same page, Rashi (דה"מ תילתא דטעמי' הוא) clarifies that each of the m’ragglim was independently capable of carrying a mass one third the size of what he could carry with the help of another, that is, as a “porter” whose helper helps him balance the load and tie it on. In such a way, each one was able to carry 120 se’a. Thus, an individual by himself could manage 40 se’a. Elsewhere, we learn that a se’a consists of two hinim ( בבא בתרא צ'. בראש הדף, עיי' ברשב"ם שם).

Next, we take note of a ruling of the Rambam: אין מתנסך לעכו"מ אלא מן הראוי להקריב על גבי המזבח כו' לפיכך יין מבושל של ישראל שנגע בו העכו"ם אינו אסור כו' אבל יין מזוג כו' אם נגע בו אסור (“Only wine fit to offer on the [holy] altar is used for nesachim to idols....Therefore, cooked wine of a Jew which has been touched by an idolator is not forbidden [since cooked wine cannot be offered on the altar in the Temple]...But yayin mazug [wine mixed with water]...if [the idolator] has touched it, is forbidden”; הל' מאכלות אסורות פי"א ה"ט). The Kesef Mishneh then goes on to demonstrate that the general definition of yayin mazug is a mixture of three parts water to one part raw wine.

Armed with the above information, let us do a little calculating.

C.

Eight men were involved in carrying the eshkol. The others, let us assume, were involved with their own loads, and hence unavailable to help. If this is so, then each of the seven was able to bear a load of 120 se’a, loaded and balanced with the help of one of his comrades (as Rashi noted above); the eighth “helper," with none to help him, carried 40 se’a. Thus, together, they bore a total of 880 se’a. Remembering that a se’a contains two hinim, this yields a total of 1,760 hin. 1,760 hin of raw wine, diluted with water to form yayin mazug, yields 7,040 hin of wine available for nesachim.

Now, as we have established, Israel spent an additional 38.5 years (approximately) in the desert; as we read in Joshua IV, 19, they crossed the Jordan and entered the Holy Land on 10 Nisan 2488. Since a year contains 365 days and a bit (עירובין נ"ו., רמב"ם הל' קדוש החדש פ"ט ה"א; we can use the modern approximation of 365.25 for this purpose), and two Tmidin were offered each day, accompanied by a quarter hin of wine, we arrive at a requirement of just under 183 hin of wine per year in the desert (the exact figure for 365.25 days is 182.625 hin). Over 38.5 years, that is just over 7,031 hin.

So the eshkol may have provided a slight surplus, even allowing for the wastage of grape pulp, skin, and seeds. Of course, if one of the others was available to help steady and tie on the load of the eighth man, there would have been another 80 se’a or 160 hin available as well, which doubtless would have been welcome for the arba’â kosoth at the séder at Pesach Gilgal, four days after crossing the Jordan.

So it seems that our midrash makes sense.

D.

This little exercise in desert economy affords us an object lesson in the ways in which, unobtrusively and behind the scenes, Divine Hashgacha, Providence, anticipates and fills our needs.

Moshe had charged the m’ragglim, inter alia, to determine ומה הארץ השמנה הוא אם רזה היש בה עץ אם אין (“and what [sort of] land it is, fat or thin, are there trees in it or not”; XIII, 20). It was in response to this instruction that the m’ragglim brought back samples of the hugely impressive fruits they found: Pomegranates, figs, and grapes.

But these are hardly the only fruits in the land of Israel. They did not have to happen upon Nachal Eshkol and bring back a monstrous bunch of grapes. The purpose could have easily been filled by olives, say, or dates, both growing on trees and plentiful in the Holy Land. But they found grapes....

As they shouldered their loads and came back, they had no idea that they would spend another 38.5 years in the desert; they thought that they were on the cusp of an invasion. Had they not succumbed to panic, and given the disastrous report they did, it might have been so. But when they heard the stern Divine decree that the generation born and raised in Egyptian bondage would have to perish in the desert, they squared their shoulders, accepted the judgment, and found suddenly available the wherewithal to make all those years’ worth of sacrifices and nesachim.

So we must never despair. Even if things look bleak, and we ourselves cannot imagine where our help is coming from, the little word problem above demonstrates that provision will always be made, perhaps in some wholly miraculous fashion, for us to survive, and be frum.