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PARASHAT Behaalotekha

by Rav David Silverberg

Parashat Behaalotekha begins the tragic series of events that transpire after Benei Yisrael embark from the wilderness of Sinai, where they had been encamped for nearly a year. The first incident that occurs is known as the sin of the "mitonenim," or the "complainers." In response to Benei Yisrael's grumbling as they traveled, God punishes them by fire, which, the verse tells us, "consumed the edge of the nation" (11:1). Rashi suggests two interpretations of this phrase. It could refer either to the "erev rav" – the people from other nations who joined Benei Yisrael upon their departure from Egypt, or to the "great men among them." Why would God's punishment be directed specifically against the "great men" of Israel? At first glance, as Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi writes, one might suggest that Rashi here refers to the "great men" among the erev rav. Meaning, it was specifically the more noble people among the erev rav who led or instigated the complaints, and it was therefore they who were punished by the divine fire. More plausibly, however, we must read this comment by Rashi within the context of his comments in Parashat Mishpatim (Shemot 24:10-11). Rashi there brings from the Midrash that the seventy elders of Israel acted inappropriately when God revealed Himself at Sinai. They looked upon the Almighty in a disrespectful manner, eating, drinking and celebrating rather than maintaining the reverent decorum mandated by such an event. But in order not to diminish from the intense joy of Ma'amad Har Sinai, God suspended the punishment and did not kill the elders until about a year later – at the incident of the mitonenim. Thus, when Rashi in Parashat Behaalotekha mentions (as his second possibility) that God punished the "great men," he likely refers to the elders, who deserved to die for their frivolous conduct at Sinai, but were killed only now.

Why would God choose specifically the sin of the mitonenim as the proper time for punishing the elders? Apparently, some connection exists between these two events – the elders' irreverence at Sinai, and the people's grumbling as they traveled. How are these two events connected?

Perhaps the elders' eating and drinking as they beheld divine revelation did not in itself constitute an infringement upon God's honor. In theory, at least, one might defend their conduct by viewing it as a sincere expression of joy brought on by the momentous occasion of Ma'amad Har Sinai and all that it represented, particularly Benei Yisrael's bond with the Almighty. In fact, a famous Gemara in Masekhet Beitza (16) establishes that although the Amoraim debate the question of whether or not one must eat a festive meal on Yom Tov, all views require such festivity on Shavuot, which commemorates Matan Torah, due to the singular nature of this event. Celebrating our receiving the Torah with food and drink is, objectively, wholly appropriate and fully consistent with the spirit and meaning of Ma'amad Har Sinai.

However, the whining of these same elders as the nation embarked from Sinai perhaps called into question their sincerity in indulging in food and drink when God descended upon Mount Sinai. When a person enjoys himself in the context of religious service, we might determine the sincerity of his motives by observing his response to a far less enjoyable or convenient mode of religious worship. If the same Jew who eats, drinks, sings and dances on Yom Tov refrains from all food and drink on Yom Kippur and dedicates the entire day to solemn prayer, soul-searching and repentance, then we can generally assume that his Yom Tov festivities were sincerely motivated. The elders, however, lost their justification for eating and drinking during Ma'amad Har Sinai when they complained about the hardships of travel. Their unwillingness to follow the Almighty when conditions become uncomfortable or inconvenient revealed that their enjoyment during the revelation was purely for the sake of enjoyment, not out of a sincere interest in celebrating Benei Yisrael's covenant with the Almighty. It is therefore at this point, at the incident of the mitonenim, that the elders are punished for their insincere festivities at the time of Ma'amad Har Sinai.

The lesson of the mitonenim, then, is that following the Almighty often entails discomfort and inconvenience. But if are prepared to celebrate with God, then we must be willing to maintain this relationship even under less-than-favorable conditions, and even when considerable difficulty is entailed.

David Silverberg

*****

Yesterday we discussed the "chet ha-mitonenim," or the "sin of the complainers," which the Torah briefly narrates in Parashat Behaalotekha (11:1-3). The Torah tells that the people's complaints were "ra be-oznei Hashem" – "evil in the Lord's ears." The Netziv, in his commentary to this verse, notes that the term "be-oznei" in Biblical Hebrew generally denotes that which is spoken at close range, as opposed to words spoken from a distance. Thus, when the Torah describes the people's grumbling as "evil in God's ears," it alludes to God's presence, so-to-speak, among Benei Yisrael as they traveled. Since the Shekhina resided in the Mishkan, at the center of the camp, Benei Yisrael's complaints were, in effect, voiced directly into God's ear, as it were. According to the Netziv, the Torah makes a point of emphasizing this closeness in order to explain the immediacy of God's response: "The people took to complaining bitterly; it was evil in the Lord's ears. The Lord heard and was incensed: a fire of the Lord broke out against them… " When God resides among the people, He punishes them immediately, without delay.

We might add that this factor, of the Shekhina's residence among the people, not only affected God's response to the sin of the mitonenim, but also relates to the very nature of the sin itself. In fact, the Netziv himself writes in this passage that the fire that consumed the people, which the Torah calls "fire of the Lord," originated from the Mishkan. Meaning, it was the Mishkan, the site of God's presence among the people, that delivered the punishment. This might suggest that we view the sin of the mitonenim as a sin against the Mishkan, against the Shekhina, an infringement upon the concept of God's residence among the people. Benei Yisrael's complaints about the hardships of travel reflected a lack of appreciation for the privilege they were given to accompany the Almighty to Eretz Yisrael. People are prepared to endure considerable inconvenience in exchange for honor and prestige. That Benei Yisrael resented the inconvenience of travel meant that they lacked an understanding of the honor and prestige involved in the mission upon which they have just embarked.

A famous passage in the Gemara (Masekhet Shabbat 116a) comments that Benei Yisrael's departure from Mount Sinai constituted a terrible calamity. Most commentators (see Tosefot) explain that as a well-known Midrash tells, Benei Yisrael actually "fled" Sinai as a schoolchild runs from school, escaping the academic responsibilities and discipline to which he had been subjected all day. Benei Yisrael's departure from Sinai is deemed calamitous because of the manner in which it occurred – as if they escaped from Mount Sinai to ensure that no more mitzvot would be cast upon them. Rashi, however, explains that the catastrophe of departing Sinai lies in the fact that this trip ended in disaster, as Benei Yisrael commit on this journey a series of grave sins, culminating in the sin of the spies and that generation's death in the wilderness.

Quite possibly, Rashi, too, has the schoolchild analogy in mind as he explains the catastrophe of Benei Yisrael's departure. According to Rashi, it was this attitude towards Torah and mitzvot which allowed the sins such as the mitonenim and kivrot ha-ta'va (see chapter 11, verses 4 and onward) to occur. Once Benei Yisrael viewed the teachings of Sinai as a burden, rather than an opportunity and privilege, they lost the ability to endure the difficulties involved. Their "escape" from Sinai meant that they lost sight of the inestimable value of the Torah they had just received. Naturally, then, they were unwilling to exert themselves on its behalf.

David Silverberg

*****

The final section of Parashat Behaalotekha tells of the inappropriate gossip spoken by Miriam and Aharon about their brother, Moshe. In our S.A.L.T. series to this parasha last year, we noted the ambiguity in this narrative and presented the approach taken by the Ri (among the greatest of the Tosafists), as recorded in the work "Moshav Zekeinim." The Ri explains that Miriam and Aharon objected to the fact that Moshe had married an "isha kushit," a gentile woman. Moshe had married her during his years as a fugitive, fleeing Pharaoh's death sentence. Now that he has become a prophet of God, they argued, he should divorce his wife, Tzipora, and marry a woman of more prestigious origins and stature. Needless to say, Aharon and Miriam were wrong for expecting Moshe to divorce the woman with whom he had lived for all these years, as doing so would constitute a grave act of betrayal towards her.

We concluded our discussion last year by noting the obvious difficulty with this approach. Indeed, the opening verse of this section clearly lends itself to such an interpretation: "Miriam and Aharon spoke against Moshe because of the Kushite woman he had married, for he married a Kushite woman" (12:1). The very next verse, however, which records the actual conversation between Miriam and Aharon, discusses an entirely different matter: "Has the Lord spoken only through Moshe? Has He not spoken through us as well?" (12:2). What does Miriam and Aharon's prophetic status have anything to do with their objection to Moshe's marriage to a gentile woman? According to other commentaries, including Targum Onkelos and Rashi, Miriam and Aharon object to the fact that Moshe had separated from his wife due to the regularity of his communion with God. These commentaries thus explain that Miriam and Aharon here claim that just as they, who are also prophets, were not forbidden to their spouses, so does Moshe have no need to separate from his wife. But according to the Ri, Miriam and Aharon criticize Moshe for staying married to Tzipora. Why would they emphasize in this context that God spoke to them, and not only to Moshe? Of what relevance is this point to their criticism of Moshe?

I recently discovered that Professor David Henshke of Bar-Ilan University addresses this very question in an article he published for that institution's weekly parasha sheet, in 5757. (The article is available on-line, at: www.biu.ac.il/JH/Parasha/behaalot/henshke.htm.) Dr. Henshke suggests that in this verse – "Has the Lord spoken only through Moshe… " – Miriam and Aharon explain why Moshe's marriage to a Kushite woman personally affects them, as well. They viewed prophecy as a formal institution, rather than a purely individual achievement. Just as the kehuna (priesthood) involves a class of people, so do all prophets belong to an exclusive group. Therefore, since they, too, are prophets, Moshe's marriage to a foreign woman infringes upon their honor, as well. The entire class of prophets suffers as a result of the dishonorable conduct of a single member, all the more so when dealing with the most prominent member of the group. For this reason, Miriam and Aharon felt, they found it proper and necessary to protest Moshe's marriage to Tzipora.

Dr. Henshke draws an interesting comparison between this assumption underlying Miriam and Aharon's claim (as he understands it) and an event recorded earlier in the parasha. In the previous chapter, we read that Moshe bestowed prophetic powers upon seventy men, who would serve as the nation's elders and assist him in governing Benei Yisrael. Two men, Eldad and Meidad, were not included in this bestowal of prophecy and yet received prophecy independently. When the news of Eldad and Meidad's prophecy reaches Moshe, his attendant, Yehoshua, immediately calls for their imprisonment (11:28). Moshe responds, "Are you wrought up on my account? Would that all the Lord's people were prophets, that the Lord put His spirit upon them!" (11:29). What exactly are Moshe and Yehoshua arguing about? Why did Yehoshua insist upon restraining the two "perpetrators," and why did Moshe overrule his decision? Professor Henshke suggests that Yehoshua, like Miriam and Aharon, felt that prophets belong to an exclusive class. Anyone who dares prophesy independently, outside the framework established by Moshe and without his consent, trespasses onto the exclusive domain of the prophetic class. To this Moshe responds, "Would that all the Lord's people were prophets." Prophecy, Moshe argues, can be attained by anyone who has reached the spiritual levels required to become a prophet (as described in detail by the Rambam). It does not belong to an exclusive group of people, but is accessible to all. Unlike the kehuna, which God assigned to a specific family, the spiritual stature of prophecy is available to anyone who satisfies the spiritual criteria.

This same issue underlies the controversy surrounding Moshe's marriage to Tzipora. Moshe viewed this question as a private matter that concerns only him and has no impact whatsoever on any other prophets. Miriam and Aharon, however, believed – incorrectly – in a formal, institutionalized class of prophets, and thus the private affairs of one have a considerable impact upon all the others.

David Silverberg

*****

We read in Parashat Behaalotekha the story of "Kivrot Ha-ta'ava," the place where Benei Yisrael complain to Moshe about the lack of proper food provisions in the wilderness. They approach Moshe and tearfully wail, "If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish that we used to eat free in Egypt, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions and the garlic. Now our gullets are shriveled. There is nothing at all, nothing but this manna to look to!" (11:4-6). Then the Torah remarks, "Now the manna was like coriander seed, and in color it was like bdelium (or crystal)." The verses that follow speak of the manna in greater detail, describing how Benei Yisrael would prepare it for consumption and how it fell together with the dew each morning. Why does the Torah find it appropriate to present a description of the manna in this context?

Rashi explains that these verses serve as the Almighty's response, so-to-speak, to the people's complaints. Upon hearing Benei Yisrael's protests of the scarcity of their diet, God exclaims, "See, all people of earth, about what My children are complaining!" The properties of the manna described in these verses are meant to demonstrate the audacity and ingratitude manifest in Benei Yisrael's complaints.

The Chatam Sofer, however, suggests an opposite approach to these verses. He claims that the Torah here explains the basis for Benei Yisrael's objection to the manna. As many writers have noted, these complaints seem, at first glance, entirely absurd. After all, Chazal famously inform us that the manna would assume any taste the eater desired. Why, then, did Benei Yisrael long for the meat, fish, cucumbers, and so on that they allegedly enjoyed in Egypt? Didn't the manna provide them with all these foods and even more? The Chatam Sofer suggests that these verses provide the answer. Although the manna indeed assumed different tastes, it always looked the same. It had the same color and consistency each and every morning when it fell with the dew. Benei Yisrael didn't see meat, fish and cucumbers, and so their appetites were never satiated.

Herein, the Chatam Sofer explains, lies Benei Yisrael's mistake. God specifically imbued the manna with this quality in order to teach Benei Yisrael a most profound lesson: our sensual vision often diminishes from our spiritual vision. For example, there is a widespread practice to cover one's eyes while reciting the first verse of keri'at shema. According to the Chatam Sofer, this practice developed because in order to comprehend the message of "Shema Yisrael" in its fullest sense, we must shield our eyes from the deceptive images it beholds and "see" only with our minds, hearts and spirits. Similarly, God wanted Benei Yisrael to spend their days of travel in the wilderness learning and growing. He therefore sought to restrict their physical vision as much as possible, and to this end fed them nothing but manna. The limited visual exposure to food would allow their spiritual vision to reach its maximum capacity, enabling them to learn and comprehend on a far deeper level than they would have otherwise.

But Benei Yisrael had "escaped" from Mount Sinai "like a child fleeing from school." They had no interest in further spiritual growth, they no longer wanted to focus all their "vision" onto spiritual, rather than mundane, sights. Small wonder, then, that Benei Yisrael objected to the manna. They wanted to be able to experience physical life and pleasure, rather than confine themselves – if only for a week or so, the intended length of this journey – to the spiritual realm. Thus, the Torah's description of the manna in this parasha explains precisely why Benei Yisrael complained about the manna – and why their complaints ran contrary to the ultimate purpose of the wilderness experience.

David Silverberg

*****

Parashat Behaalotekha begins with the commandment concerning the lighting of the menora. Rashi, based on Chazal, explains why this section appears here, immediately following the account of the offering brought by the nesi'im (tribal leaders) in honor of the Mishkan's consecration. The leaders of all the tribes participated in this festive offering, with the exception of Aharon, the head of the tribe of Levi. Aharon felt distressed over not having taken part in the nesi'im's gesture, and so God sought to assuage Aharon's fears by reminding him of the privilege he has of lighting the menorah. Rashi writes, "The Almighty said to him [Aharon]: Yours is greater than theirs, for you light and clean the oil lamps." The Ramban cites this passage from Rashi's commentary, but with a slight addition: "Yours is greater than theirs, for you light and clean the oil lamps morning and evening." According to the Ramban's version of the text of Rashi's commentary, Aharon lights and cleans the oil lamps every morning and evening.

As Rav David Mandelbaum notes in his Pardeis Yoseif Ha-chadash, this text suggests that Rashi may have followed a controversial view of the Rambam concerning the mitzva of lighting the menora in the Temple. The verses towards the end of Parashat Tetzaveh (Shemot 30:7-8) speak of two rituals associated with the menorah: 1) the lighting, which was performed at nighttime, and, as we know from the beginning of Parashat Tetzaveh (Shemot 27:21), lasted until morning; 2) the "hatava," or "cleaning," which took place in the morning. It is generally assumed that the menora was lit in the evening, and in the morning, after the candles had extinguished, the kohen removed the wicks and leftover oil, and cleaned the lamps for use that evening. The Rambam, however, in his Hilkhot Temidin U-musafin (3:12), maintains that the "hatava" in the morning entailed not only cleaning the oil lamps, but rekindling them, as well. Thus, in his view, the menora was lit twice daily – in the morning and in the evening. The Rashba, in his responsa (309), strongly disputes the Rambam's view. But Rashi, as cited by the Ramban, speaks of Aharon lighting the menora each morning and evening, and thus appears to concur with the Rambam's position.

Elsewhere in his writings, however, Rashi clearly indicates that the menora was lit only in the evening, and not in the morning. Commenting on the aforementioned verses towards the end of Parashat Tetzaveh, Rashi defines "hatava" as, "an expression referring to cleaning the lamps of the menora from the ashes of the wicks that burned at night. He [the kohen] would clean them each morning." Rashi here describes hatava as nothing more than cleaning the lamps, making no mention at all of lighting.

This view seems to emerge from Rashi's commentary to the Talmud, as well. The mishnayot in Masekhet Chagiga (26a-b) tell that during the time of the Temple, the plethora of activity in the Mikdash on the regalim (three pilgrimage festivals – Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot) gave rise to the concern that the Temple's appurtenances may have become tamei (ritually impure). Due the presence of many people who lacked proficiency in the laws of tuma and tahara, including unlearned kohanim, who worked in the Temple and likely touched the keilim (appurtenances), the keilim were immersed after Yom Tov. A particular problem, however, arose concerning the shulchan (table), regarding which the Torah (Shemot 25:30) requires "tamid" – the constant presence of the lechem ha-panim ("showbread") upon it. It was forbidden to remove the shulchan from its place in the Temple for immersion. In an effort to avoid this problem, the mishna records, unlearned kohanim were advised to exercise particular care not to touch the shulchan. Now the Gemara brings a different source claiming that this applies to the menora, as well. Meaning, the menora, too, was never to be moved from its location, and therefore the unlearned kohanim had to keep their distance from both the shulchan and the menora. The Gemara explains that the mishna intentionally omitted any reference to the menora, because in truth, this halakha applies only to the shulchan. Regarding the menora, there was no halakha forbidding its temporary removal, because the Torah does not introduce a "tamid" obligation with regard to the menora. Commenting on this Gemara, Rashi states clearly that the lights of the menora burned only at night, and not by day, unlike the shulchan, upon which the lechem ha-panim was placed around the clock. Thus, here, too, Rashi makes it clear that he does not follow the Rambam's position, and that in his view, the menora was lit only once daily.

These sources might suggest that we reread Rashi's comments as cited by the Ramban. According to the Ramban's text, Rashi writes, "Yours is greater than theirs, for you light and clean the oil lamps morning and evening." Quite possibly, Rashi does not mean that the kohen lights the lamps each morning and evening. Rather, every morning and evening he either lights or cleans the lamps. In the morning he cleans, and in the evening he lights. With the words "each morning and evening," Rashi simply emphasizes the point that as opposed to the nesi'im, who brought a one-time offering, Aharon has the opportunity to serve the Almighty on an day-to-day basis, and his responsibilities apply each morning and evening.

David Silverberg

*****

As we discussed yesterday, Parashat Behaalotekha begins with a brief section dealing with the lighting of the menora in the Mishkan. Rashi explains that God has Moshe remind Aharon that although he did not take part in the offerings brought by the nesi'im in honor of the Mishkan's consecration, he should not feel distressed, for he has the far greater privilege of lighting the menora. We saw that the Ramban cites Rashi's commentary to this verse, and his version of the text appears to suggest that according to Rashi, Aharon lit the menora each morning and evening. If so, then Rashi follows the controversial view of the Rambam in Hilkhot Temidin U-musafin (3:12), that the menora was lit twice each day, in the morning and evening. Most other Rishonim maintain that the menora was lit only once, in the evening, and in the morning the kohen merely cleaned the oil lamps, but did not kindle them. Interestingly, Rav Ovadya Bartenura, in his commentary to Masekhet Tamid (3:9), discusses the Rambam's view and concludes that this position is unique and was not accepted by any of the other Rishonim. However, according to the Ramban's version of the text of Rashi's commentary, the Rambam's controversial view might perhaps be shared by no less prominent a scholar as Rashi. (Although, as we discussed yesterday, elsewhere in his writings Rashi clearly does not accept this position.)

The Sefat Emet, in his work on Masekhet Yoma, twice suggests a possible proof or at least support for the Rambam's view. The mishna in Masekhet Yoma (14a) tells that during the week before Yom Kippur, the kohen gadol would perform all the rituals in the Temple (whereas throughout the year most rituals were conducted by the regular kohanim). Since on Yom Kippur the kohen gadol must personally conduct the entire Temple service, he must prepare himself accordingly by practicing the various rituals for seven days prior to Yom Kippur. The mishna lists the rituals he practices during that week, including "u-meitiv et ha-neirot" – cleaning the oil lamps. As we saw yesterday, this ritual of "hatava," which the Torah requires to be performed each morning (see Shemot 30:7), entails, according to most Rishonim, only cleaning the lamps by removing the ashes and leftover oil. The Rambam, however, maintains that "hatava" includes rekindling the menora, as well. Now as the Sefat Emet notes, on Yom Kippur the kohen gadol is responsible for lighting the menora, just as he is to perform all the Temple rituals (see Rambam, end of chapter 4 of Hilkhot Avodat Yom Ha-kippurim). It would follow, then, that during the week of preparation the kohen gadol would likewise have to light the menora each day. Yet, the mishna mentions only "hatava," and does not include lighting in its list of rituals performed by the kohen gadol during that week. If we accept the Rambam's view, the Sefat Emet argues, the mishna becomes readily understandable: since "hatava" includes cleaning and lighting the menora, the mishna covers both these duties by mentioning the word "hatava." Thus, this mishna may perhaps serve as possible evidence to the Rambam's position.

Later in Masekhet Yoma (33a), the Sefat Emet again detects a possible proof for the Rambam. The Gemara there records Abayei's "seder ha-ma'arakha" – outline of the daily Temple service, which is included in the "korbanot" section of our siddur. According to this outline, the incense altar was swept ("dishun mizbei'ach ha-penimi") before the kohen would begin the process of "hatava." The Gemara cites Abayei as commenting that this halakha, requiring that the incense altar be swept before hatava, has no underlying rationale, and is based purely on oral tradition. Rava argues with Abayei and claims that there is indeed a very compelling reason to sweep the altar before cleaning the menora. A famous Halakhic principle known as "ein ma'avirin al ha-mitzvot" forbids letting a mitzva opportunity pass one by. Now when the kohen enters the Temple Sanctuary, he first confronts the incense altar before reaching the menora. For this reason, Rava argues, the kohen must first perform the mitzva involving the altar, rather than walking past the altar and first tending to the menora.

In any event, the Sefat Emet asks a very simple question on this entire discussion. There is, seemingly, a much simpler reason to first clean the incense altar before cleaning the menora. The ketoret (incense) is offered each morning and evening (see end of Parashat Tetzaveh), while the menora, according to most views, is kindled only in the evening. Naturally, then, we would expect that the kohen should first prepare the altar for the incense offering he will bring that morning, and only thereafter prepare the menora for its kindling, which will take place only in the evening. According to the Rambam's position, of course, the Gemara is easily understood: both the incense offering and the lighting of the menora take place each morning, and therefore it does not necessarily follow that the kohen should prepare the incense altar before preparing the menora.

Ultimately, however, the Sefat Emet refutes this proof by suggesting an entirely different reading of this Gemara. Why does Abayei not accept Rava's rationale, that "ein ma'avirin al ha-mitzvot" warrants cleaning the incense altar before cleaning the menora? Does Abayei not subscribe to this well-established halakha? The Sefat Emet explains that Abayei certainly agrees with Rava that "ein ma'avirin" necessitates cleaning the altar before the menora. Only Abayei held that even if the kohen mistakenly walked past the altar and arrived at the menora, he must return to the altar to perform the ritual of dishun (sweeping). Thus, in Abayei's view, the precedence afforded to cleaning the altar does not merely evolve from the general rule of "ein ma'avirin." For in a case where the kohen mistakenly continued past the altar and came to the menora, "ein ma'avirin" would dictate that he must first tend to the menora, where he currently stands, before returning to the altar and perform the mitzva required there. The fact that he must nevertheless first return to the altar can be attributed only to a specific oral tradition, rather to any Halakhic reasoning.

This Gemara, then, does not provide proof for the Rambam's position. For even if the menora is lit only in the evening, once the kohen walks past the altar and stands by the menora he should, according to the rule of "ein ma'avirin," first clean the menora before returning to the altar. Even according to the prevalent view, therefore, Abayei had no rationale basis for this halakha.

David Silverberg

*****

Parashat Behaalotekha begins with a discussion concerning the lighting of the menora. After recording God's instruction in this regard, the Torah writes, "Aharon did so" (8:3), meaning, he complied with the laws conveyed to him regarding the menora. The Ramban explains this verse to mean that although all kohanim are suitable for lighting the menora, and this is not the exclusive responsibility of the kohen gadol, nevertheless, Aharon (the kohen gadol) insisted on personally performing this mitzva. The Ramban cryptically alludes to the singular, mystical significance of this mitzva, because of which Aharon made a point of lighting the menora himself, rather than allowing another kohen to do so.

Rashi's brief comment to this verse has earned much discussion among later writers. Citing the Sifrei, Rashi writes, "This speaks the praise of Aharon – that he did not deviate." At first glance, Rashi means that the verse compliments Aharon by affirming his meticulous compliance with God's command. Many later commentators ask, why does Aharon deserve such praise for simply obeying God's orders? Would we have expected anything different from Aharon? In our S.A.L.T. series to this parasha last year, we cited a number of explanations given for this comment by Rashi; this year we will explore several others.

The Vilna Gaon is cited as explaining that the "deviation" that Aharon did not commit refers not to the detailed halakhot concerning the menora lighting, but rather to his overall attitude towards this mitzva. Despite performing this ritual each day for many years, he never lost the enthusiasm he felt the very first time he lit the menora. Chazal here laud Aharon not for his compliance, but for the consistent vigor and vitality with which he approached this mitzva, which did not fade even after many years.

The famous Chasidic master Rav Meir of Permeshlan suggested that Chazal here refer to Aharon's general behavior, outside the context of the Mishkan. Despite receiving this distinction of serving as kohen gadol and having the privilege of lighting the menora each day, "he did not deviate" – he did not let his prominent position affect his interpersonal conduct. He still maintained his friendly and pleasant demeanor, and did not look condescendingly upon those around him in light of his lofty position.

Rav Chayim Blum, in his "Pirchei Rashi," brings an explanation that Chazal here give praise to Aharon for not losing sight of the details as a result of the spiritual fervor and excitement involved. Very often, the grandeur and majesty of certain religious practices lead one to neglect the detailed requirements. (Rav Blum mentions as an example that some people spend so much time preparing themselves emotionally for prayer that they end up reciting the tefila after the allotted time.) Aharon successfully struck the required balance between spiritual feeling and disciplined attention to detail.

The Chatam Sofer explained that Aharon first lit the menora on Rosh Chodesh Nissan, the day on which the Mishkan was formally consecrated and began functioning. As we know from Parashat Shemini, it was on this day that Aharon's two older sons, Nadav and Avihu, died as a punishment for bringing an unwarranted offering. The Chatam Sofer suggests that perhaps Chazal here point to the fact that Aharon insisted on performing this mitzva even on that day, despite the terrible calamity he had just suffered.

Maharil Diskin suggests a particularly novel interpretation of this comment by Chazal. The Gemara tells in Masekhet Menachot (29a) that a stepping stone was placed in front of the menora upon which the kohen would stand when lighting the menora. Aharon, however, was a very tall man, especially after having been anointed with the anointing oil, which had the effect of adding to one's height. He therefore could easily reach the top of the menora's lamps without making use of the stone, but nevertheless chose to step on the stone when he lit. To this the Sifrei refers when it says that Aharon "did not deviate."

The newly published work "Derekh Sicha" (a transcript of discussions with Rav Chayim Kaniyevsky concerning the weekly parshiyot) records an interesting conversation between the author and Rav Chayim Kaniyevsky regarding this approach of Maharil Diskin. First, the author wondered as to the source of the assumption that Aharon was tall. Rav Kaniyevsky referred him to Rashi's commentary to Masekhet Shabbat (92a), where it emerges that according to one view in the Gemara, all the Levi'im – presumably including Aharon – were exceptionally tall, and stood at the same height as Moshe. As for the source of the power of the anointing oil to add height, Rav Kaniyevsky cited the Midrash in Vayikra Rabba (Parashat Emor, 26:9) which comments that once the prophet Shemuel anointed David as king with the anointing oil, David grew taller and thus could not wear the royal garb of his predecessor, Shaul. Finally, Rav Kaniyevsky was asked whether or not Aharon had an obligation to stand on the stepping stone if he could reach the top of the lamps without it. Rav Kaniyevsky replied that he was not obligated to use the stone, but insisted on doing so nevertheless in order to ensure that future generations would follow this procedure and make use of the stone.

We might suggest an entirely different approach to explain this praise of Aharon. Recall that Chazal, cited by Rashi to 8:2, understood this entire section as a means of comforting Aharon, who felt uneasy about not having taken part with the other tribal leaders in their offering for the Mishkan's consecration. God reassures Aharon that he has the far greater privilege of lighting the menora. What troubled Aharon, and how did the mitzva of the menora put his mind to rest? Perhaps Aharon felt that although he bears responsibility for the day-to-day functioning of the Mishkan, this job pales in comparison with the festive offering of the tribal leaders, through which the altar and Mishkan were inaugurated. God assures Aharon that serving in the Mishkan on a consistent basis, every day, is a much greater distinction than bringing the inaugural sacrifices in the Mishkan. This might be Chazal's intent when they applaud Aharon for not "deviating." He accepted this message and made no attempt to embellish his day-to-day service in the Mishkan. Aharon internalized this message, of the primary importance of the daily routine, and therefore went about his business in a steady, consistent manner, without adding any frills of his own to the service.

Finally, Rav Efrayim Greenblat, in his "Rivevot Efrayom al Ha-Torah," writes that Chazal here point to one of Aharon's most important characteristics – that he would not "deviate." The hallmark of his success was his consistency and strict maintenance of high religious standards under all circumstances. Rav Greenblat notes that this is particularly enlightening when we consider Chazal's famous description of Aharon, in the first chapter of Masekhet Avot: "A lover a peace, a pursuer of peace, who loves people and brings them close to the Torah." Aharon was involved in bringing people closer to Torah, what today we often call "outreach." Rav Greenblat writes that it is a mistake to think that in order to achieve success in this endeavor, one must "deviate," or change, from his normal lifestyle and standards. Aharon, the symbol of consistency, managed to bring many Jews closer to Torah without changing. True, Torah must be presented in a manner suitable and appropriate for the audience. But this does require the presenter to lower his own standards, to deviate from the laws and traditions of the Torah. To the contrary, specifically by consistently adhering to our religious principles can we serve as examples of authentic Judaism, and thereby be successful in bringing others close to our heritage.

David Silverberg


To see this year's S.A.L.T. selections:				www.vbm-torah.org/salt.htm

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