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The Israel Koschitzky
Virtual Beit Midrash
Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion
PARASHAT Korach
by
Rav David Silverberg
Parashat Korach tells the story
of the audacious challenge against the leadership of Moshe and Aharon, arranged and led by Korach,
Moshe's first cousin. Among those who
joined the rebellion were two hundred and fifty people described in the parasha's second verse as "keri'ei
mo'ed" – literally, "chosen in the
assembly." On the simple level of
interpretation, this means that this group consisted of highly respected and
prominent men. The Gemara,
however, in Masekhet Sanhedrin (110a), suggests an
additional meaning. The word "mo'ed" also means "occasions," and often
refers to the Jewish calendar cycle.
Hence, the Gemara understands the phrase
"keri'ei mo'ed"
as an allusion to the fact that these men were assigned the task of overseeing
the Jewish calendar. They were the ones
who would conduct the astronomical calculations necessary to determine when a
leap year should be observed in order to keep the Jewish, lunar cycle
consistent with the solar calendar. (Rav
Reuven Margaliyot, in his "Margaliyot
Ha-yam," explains that the Gemara arrives at
this homiletic interpretation by reading the word "keri'ei"
as "kor'ei." The phrase, "keri'ei
mo'ed" thus becomes "kor'ei
mo'ed" – those who "call," or
determine, the festivals.)
The
obvious question arises, how is this information about these two hundred and
fifty insurrectionists relevant to their uprising? How did this job affect their participation
in Korach's revolt?
The
simplest explanation, perhaps, is that Chazal here
seek merely to emphasize that Korach's campaign
attracted the highest echelons of the nation, including the religious
leaders. Generally, populist uprisings
appeal specifically to the lower classes, the poor, the ignorant, and the
despondent. Korach,
by contrast, won the support of the intellectual and even spiritual elite of
the people, thus posing a formidable political challenge to the authority of
Moshe and Aharon.
On a deeper, Midrashic level, this Gemara perhaps seeks to warn that even the greatest
achievements in Torah and intensive involvement in religious leadership do not
protect one from wrong ideas, theological misconceptions, or plain
jealousy. These two hundred and fifty
men were of a particularly high caliber and ranked among the nation's finest Halakhic scholars, but nevertheless fell prey to the winds
of rebellion generated by Korach's uprising.
Some,
however, explain this Gemara in light of another
famous Gemara (Chulin 60b)
regarding the relationship, so-to-speak, between the sun and the moon. Initially, the Gemara
comments, the sun and the moon were created equal. The moon, however, complained to the
Almighty, claiming that two kings cannot wear the same crown; it would be
impossible for both the sun and the moon to work simultaneously and with equal
authority. As punishment for the moon's
jealousy, God made the moon smaller.
While it is hard to know exactly what this Gemara
means (and we discussed it in our S.A.L.T. series to Parashat
Pinchas last year), the message emerging from this
account is the dangers of envy and jealousy.
Now the moon's protest against its shared status with the sun is what
resulted in the different lunar and solar cycles. Had the moon accepted the fair "division
of labor," the sun and the moon would have worked hand-in-hand, and there
would thus be no need to adjust the Jewish calendar to maintain its
synchronization with the solar calendar.
Therefore, some writers explain, the Gemara
makes a point of informing us that the two hundred and fifty rebels worked in
this field, of synchronizing the solar and lunar calendars. They should have understood the lesson of the
sun of the moon, of the dangers of seeking fame and glory and exclusive rights
to prominence.
We
might suggest yet a third approach, as well.
According to the Gemara, these two hundred and
fifty men worked in what we might term a "thankless job." Their assignment entailed hard work,
difficult, intricate calculations and hours of thought and consideration,
sorting through the complexities of their astronomical findings to reach a
conclusion. These were the most talented
mathematicians of the nation, the finest and sharpest minds. And yet, they presumably received little
recognition for their efforts. Their job
did not carry with it the authority enjoyed by Moshe nor the honor and splendor
showered upon Aharon and his sons. Perhaps the Gemara
means that these men felt resentful over their investment of hard work without
public acknowledgment. The message of
this Gemara, then, is that what matters is getting
the job done, rather than respect and admiration. Performing a task that one deems important
and meaningful should be a sufficient source of pride and gratification. These scholars, however, were not content
with simply doing the job, and therefore joined Korach
in the hope of earning greater honor and recognition with him as leader.
David Silverberg
*****
The
opening verse of Parashat Korach
introduces us to On ben Pelet, a man from the tribe of Reuven who is said to have
joined Korach in his revolt against Moshe's
authority. Curiously, however, On is never mentioned again after this first verse. The Gemara (Masekhet Sanhedrin 109b-110a) explains that though On initially participated in the uprising, he ultimately
withdrew, thanks to his wife. On's wife cogently argued that his involvement in Korach's movement will yield him no benefit. Even if Korach and
his following succeed, she pointed out, On will still
remain a commoner. He will enjoy no more
honor and prestige under Korach's authority than he
did under Moshe and Aharon.
The
Gemara concludes its account of this woman's efforts
by citing a verse in Sefer Mishlei
(14:1), "The wisest of women builds her house." This verse, the Gemara
declares, accurately describes the wisdom of On's wife, through which she managed to save him from
the doom that befell Korach and his following.
The
obvious question arises, why does the Gemara ascribe
to On's wife the particular
quality of "wisdom"? On's wife undoubtedly acted nobly, with conviction, out of
genuine love and concern for her husband.
All these qualities are worthy of note and render her deserving of
praise and admiration. But the Gemara lauds On's
wife specifically for her "wisdom."
What was so "wise" about the way she helped her husband? What extraordinary brilliance did she display
by pointing out to On that he will fare no better
under Korach than under Moshe?
Rav
Chayim Shemuelevitz (as
cited by Rav Yissachar Frand)
explains that it is indeed a sign of wisdom when somebody manages to maintain a
sense of reason and rational thinking during a heated controversy. One can easily imagine the widespread spirit
of contention that swept through Benei Yisrael during
the time of Korach's rebellion. In fact, the Gemara
in Sanhedrin tells that all the men suspected Moshe of engaging in illicit
relationships with their wives. A frenzy
of anti-Moshe sentiment erupted and gripped the nation. The wisdom of On's wife is manifest in her ability to think
rationally and keep calm during this nationwide rush of anger and
resentment. People generally have the
tendency to be taken in by popular fads and widespread emotional trends. Often it is only the exceptionally wise
person who can think intelligently and logically and see the obvious realities
that others overlook.
David Silverberg
*****
Parashat Korach tells of the
death and destruction that resulted from the revolt led by Korach
against the authority of Moshe and Aharon. Korach's campaign
included two hundred and fifty followers who petition for the right to offer
the ketoret (incense) in the Mishkan. Moshe instructs them to bring the offering
together with Aharon, and the one whose incense is
accepted by God will have proven his right to the role of kohen
gadol. They
accept the challenge, bring ketoret, and are burned
to death by a divine fire (16:35). In
the aftermath of this tragedy, God has Moshe instruct Elazar
(Aharon's son) to take the firepans
used by the two hundred and fifty insurrectionists and make from them a metal
covering for the altar. This covering
was to serve as an eternal reminder to Benei Yisrael:
"It was to be a reminder to the Israelites, so that no outsider – one not
of Aharon's offspring – should presume to offer
incense before the Lord and should not be like Korach
and his band – as the Lord ordered him through Moshe" (17:5).
On
the simple level of interpretation, the phrase in this verse, "and should
not be like Korach and his band" ("ve-lo yihyeh khe-Korach
ve-kha-adato") serves as a warning to anyone
planning to again "presume to offer incense before the Lord," as Korach's followers did.
The verse warns that a non-kohen who offers
incense will suffer the same fate as Korach and his
following.
Two
Midrashic sources, however, read this verse
differently. Rashi,
in his commentary to Sefer Yeshayahu
(6:4), and the Rambam, in the eighth "shoresh" of his introduction to Sefer
Ha-mitzvot, cite a Midrash
that explains this verse to mean the exact opposite – that future non-kohanim who offer ketoret will suffer a different fate from Korach. Such a
person, the Midrash explains, will "not be like Korach and his band."
Korach was devoured by the ground, and his
band was consumed by a divine fire.
Subsequent ketoret violators, by contrast,
will be punished differently, as suggested by the conclusion of this verse:
"ka'asher diber Hashem be-yad Moshe
lo." Literally, this verse
translates, "as the Lord spoke to him in the hand of Moshe." The Midrash
interprets this clause as an allusion to Moshe's hand, which was stricken with tzara'at (a leprous-type infection) when God appeared to
him at the burning bush (Shemot 4:6). (This infection was to serve as a sign to Benei Yisrael that God had sent him to free them from
slavery.) Here God tells Moshe that
unlike Korach and his followers, a non-kohen in future generations who ventures into the Sanctuary
to offer incense will be punished with tzara'at. Indeed, a famous narrative in Sefer Divrei Hayamim
II (26) tells that the otherwise righteous King Uziyahu
brought an incense offering in the Beit Ha-mikdash, stubbornly ignoring the kohanim's
warnings. The king was stricken with tzara'at on his forehead, an illness from which he suffered
for the rest of his life.
The
Gemara in Masekhet
Sanhedrin (110a) advances another, seemingly Halakhic,
interpretation of the clause, "and should not be like Korach
and his band." Citing this verse,
the Gemara establishes that "whoever takes hold
of an argument transgresses a 'lav' [Torah
prohibition]." According to the Gemara, this verse introduces a prohibition against
initiating argument and contention. The
Torah here presents not a warning, but a law: one may not act like Korach, who led a campaign to fracture the nation and
generate animosity and hostility among the people.
The
Rishonim disagree as to how this statement should be
understood. The Rambam,
in the aforementioned passage, explains why he does not include this
prohibition in his list of the 613 commandments. He claims that the Gemara's
reading of the verse constitutes an "asmakhta"
(secondary reading, an allusion in the text), and does not reflect the
straightforward meaning. Clearly, as we
mentioned earlier, the primary interpretation of the verse is that it warns
potential violators that unlawful offering of the ketoret
will bring upon the same fate suffered by Korach's
followers. The Gemara
simply suggests a secondary reading of the verse in an effort to reinforce
within us the gravity of instigating machloket
(controversy and disharmony).
The
Ramban, by contrast, in his critique of the Rambam's Sefer Ha-mitzvot, argues that the Gemara's
interpretation is intended as a bona fide extrapolation of the verse, rather
than an asmakhta, and he therefore indeed lists this
prohibition as one of the 613 Biblical commandments. He does, however, modify the Gemara's reading considerably. Whereas the Gemara
indicates that any instigation of controversy violates this prohibition, the Ramban claims that this verse forbids specifically the kind
of controversy waged by Korach – a challenge to the
rights of Aharon and his descendants to the kehuna (priesthood).
The
Sefer Yerei'im (345)
follows the general approach of the Ramban, only with
one slight variation. Like the Ramban, he, too, counts this prohibition as one of the 613 mitzvot, and he also limits it to certain kinds of
controversies. Only whereas the Ramban claimed that the prohibition applies only to
challenging the kehuna, the Yerei'im
writes that it forbids campaigning against anybody upon whom God has bestowed
honor and authority.
Yet
another perspective appears to emerge from the She'iltot
(131), who explains this verse as follows: "It is forbidden for a Jew to
instigate a fight, for people will thereby come to hate one another, and the
Torah says (Vayikra 19:17), 'You shall not despise
your brother in your heart." Rav
Yosef Engel, in his "Gilyonei Ha-Shas," as well as Rav Reuven Margaliyot,
in his "Margaliyot Ha-yam," point out that
the She'iltot understands this violation as a means
to protect against hatred. It does not
constitute an independent prohibition, but rather the Torah's own "seyag" – protective fence – around the prohibition
against despising other Jews.
David Silverberg
*****
The
final section of Parashat Korach
lists the various matenot kehuna
– the gifts that Benei Yisrael were
to give to the kohanim. Towards the beginning of this list (18:9) we
find the halakha that the kohanim
received the meat of certain sacrifices: "This shall be yours from the
most holy sacrifices, the offerings by fire: every such offering that they
render to Me as most holy sacrifices, namely, every meal offering, sin
offering, and guilt offering of theirs, shall belong to you." In the verse that follows, the Torah appears
to specify the location where the sacrificial meat must be eaten: "You
shall partake of them be-kodesh ha-kodashim." At
first glance, the term "be-kodesh ha-kodashim" means "in the holiest of holies" –
a reference to the inner, sacred chamber in the Mishkan,
behind the parokhet (curtain), where the ark stood.
As
the commentators note, however, this cannot possibly be the meaning of the
verse. After all, the Torah has already
established that meat from the sacrifices listed in this verse – mincha, chatat and asham, which are referred to as "kodashei
kodashim" – may be eaten anywhere in the azara, the courtyard surrounding the Mishkan
(e.g. Vayikra 6:19).
Secondly, we know that no human being – including kohanim
– may ever enter the kodesh kodashim,
with the exception of the kohen gadol
who may enter this sanctum only once a year (on Yom Kippur). Quite clearly, then, this verse cannot
require partaking of sacrificial meat in the kodesh
ha-kodashim.
We
find different approaches in the commentaries to deal with this problem. Already the Sifrei
cites two views concerning this verse.
According to the first opinion, "kodesh
ha-kodashim" here refers not to the innermost
sanctum of the Mishkan, as the term usually denotes,
but rather to the azara. Apparently, as the Maharal
explains in his "Gur Aryeh,"
this view in the Sifrei interprets "kodesh ha-kodashim" to mean
"holier" rather than "holiest." These sacrifices, which are of a higher level
of sanctity, must be eaten in the courtyard of the Mishkan,
whereas lower-level sacrifices ("kodashim kalim") may be eaten anywhere in the camp (or, in the
times of the Temple, anywhere in Jerusalem). This view is adopted by several commentators,
including Rashi and Seforno.
The
Sifrei then proceeds to cite a second approach in the
name of Rabbi Yehuda Ben Beteira. He claims that this verse alludes to the halakha permitting, under extenuating circumstances, the
consumption of sacrificial meat even inside the Mishkan. Rabbi Yehuda Ben Beteira
speaks of a situation where a war is waged in the vicinity of the Temple and the kohanim must remain indoors. In such a situation, they may partake of the
meat inside the Mishkan. It should be noted,
however, the even Rabbi Yehuda Ben Beteira does not
interpret "kodesh ha-kodashim"
according to its usual meaning, as a reference to the inner sanctum, but rather
understands it to mean the outer chamber of the Mishkan. He, too, likely interprets the phrase "kodesh ha-kodashim" as
denoting relative sanctity, and the interior of the Mishkan
– even the outer chamber – is of a higher level of sanctity than its
exterior. (This is indeed how Ibn Ezra interprets the verse in his commentary.)
The
Rambam, in Hilkhot Ma'aseh Ha-korbanot (10:3),
appears to adopt this reading of Rabbi Yehuda Ben Beteira. The Rambam writes
that although a kohen must eat kodashei
kodashim meat in the azara,
if, for some reason, he partook of the meat inside the heikhal
(Sanctuary), he has, be-di'avad (ex post facto),
fulfilled his obligation to eat sacrificial meat. Thus, he follows Rabbi Yehuda Ben Beteira's view, that this verse
establishes that although the meat must optimally be eaten in the azara, eating it inside the Mikdash
nevertheless fulfills the obligation, on the level of "be-di'avad."
Other
commentators, including Rav Sa'adya Gaon and the Ramban, explain much
differently, that "be-kodesh ha-kodashim" refers not to location, but to manner of
consumption. According to Rav Sa'adya Gaon, this verse requires
eating sacrificial meat "with the utmost purity and sanctity." He appears to interpret this verse as referring
to the general spiritual aura that must surround the kohanim's
consumption of sacrificial meat. "Kodesh ha-kodashim" means
not the specified area known as the "kodesh ha-kodashim," but rather to a particularly intense
atmosphere of holiness in which the kohanim must
partake of the meat. The Ramban also interprets the phrase as referring to manner of
consumption, rather than location, but in a much different vein. "Be-kodesh ha-kodashim," according to the Ramban,
means "like kodashei kodashim." The verse refers not to the location known as
"kodesh ha-kodashim,"
but rather to the category of sacrifices – "kodashei
kodashim."
The Torah here simply establishes, in a general sense, that we must
treat these sacrifices with the laws and guidelines applicable to kodashei kodashim, as stipulated
earlier in Chumash.
The
Netziv, in his "Ha'amek
Davar," offers a characteristically novel
interpretation. Like other commentators
we encountered earlier, the Netziv claims the "kodesh ha-kodashim" means
relative holiness, an area that is holier than another area. He claims that within the azara,
there were different levels of sanctity, which are determined by proximity to
the altar. (The mizbach
ha-nechoshet, or mizbach
ha-ola, the standard altar upon which all animal and
flour sacrifices were offered, stood in the azara.) This verse requires a kohen
to begin eating the sacrificial meat as soon as he can after descending from
the altar. Once he completes the rituals
required for a given sacrifice upon the altar, the kohen
must immediately, at the first available opportunity, begin eating the
sacrificial meat, given the principle of "ein ma'avirin al ha-mitzvot" –
we do not unnecessarily delay the performance of mitzvot. The Torah therefore instructs the kohanim to eat the meat "be-kodesh
ha-kodashim" – in the most sacred location
possible, meaning, as close to the altar as they can.
David Silverberg
*****
Yesterday,
we looked at a verse in the final section of Parashat
Korach (18:10) which instructs the kohanim to partake of the sacrificial meat "be-kodesh ha-kodashim." At first glance, this suggests that the kohanim must eat the sacrifices in the inner chamber of the
Mishkan, the kodesh ha-kodashim. As the
commentaries point out, however, this cannot possibly be the verse's intent,
for no man is ever permitted to enter the kodesh ha-kodashim (see Vayikra 16:2), with
the exception of the kohen gadol
while performing the Yom Kippur service.
Certainly, then, the Torah would not permit a kohen
to enter into the kodesh ha-kodashim
to eat the sacrificial meat. As we saw,
one view in the Sifrei, which several other
commentators – including Rashi – follow, suggests
that the term "kodesh ha-kodashim"
in this verse refers not to the inner sanctum of the Mishkan,
but rather to the azara – the courtyard surrounding
the Mishkan.
It is here where the kohanim would partake of
the meat.
Clearly,
however, this approach requires further clarification. If "kodesh ha-kodashim" generally refers to the inner chamber of the
Mishkan, what gives us the license to interpret it
differently in this context? Yesterday,
we cited the Maharal as explaining that the term
"kodesh ha-kodashim"
denotes a place of relative sanctity, which is more sacred than other
places. In general it refers to the
innermost chamber, but in truth, it can refer to any area that is singled out
as a place of unique sanctity, even if it is not the holiest site.
A
much different approach to the etymology of this term is taken by Rav Avraham Avigad of Petach-Tikva, in a
piece printed in the journal Moriah (no. 15,
vol. 5-6, pp. 70-71). Rav Avigad claims that indeed, the term "kodesh kodashim" generally
means "the place that is holier than all other places." In some instances, however, the word "kodesh" in this expression serves as a verb, rather
than a noun. Meaning, the term "kodesh kodashim" sometimes
refers to a place or object that has the ability to render something sacred, to
confer upon an object Halakhic sanctity.
Rav
Avigad demonstrates this second usage of this term
from two passages in Rashi's commentary to Sefer Shemot. In Parashat Tetzaveh (29:37), the Torah says, "The altar shall be kodesh kodashim; whatever touches
the altar shall be holy." Rashi there explains that the altar is "kodesh kodashim" in that
"whatever touches the altar shall be holy." A sacrifice placed upon the altar – even if
it had previously become disqualified – attains the Halakhic
status of kedusha, and all the laws that apply to
sacrificial meat pertain to this meat, as well.
Quite clearly, then, Rashi here understands
"kodesh kodashim"
as a description of the altar's power to confer a status of kedusha
upon a sacrifice.
The
second relevant passage is found in Rashi's
commentary to Parashat Ki-Tisa
(Shemot 30:29).
The Torah there requires anointing all the appurtenances and utensils in
the Mishkan with the special shemen
ha-mishcha (anointing oil). After they are anointed, the Torah says, they
will be "kodesh kodashim." Rashi explains that
"kodesh kodashim"
means that once an anointed utensil has some item or substance placed inside
it, that item becomes Halakhically sacred. Here, too, "kodesh
ha-kodashim" refers to the ability to render
something else sacred.
This
explains why "kodesh kodashim"
may indeed refer to the azara. The azara likewise
has the power to confer a status of kedusha, inasmuch
as the keilim in the Mishkan
become formally sacred once they are placed in the azara. This quality of the azara
- its ability to make other objects holy – is what allows the Sifrei to interpret the term "kodesh
kodashim" as a reference to the azara. Generally,
this term refer to the holiest chamber in the Mishkan. In this instance, however, like in the
aforementioned verses in Sefer Shemot,
the word "kodesh" means "that which
sanctifies," and thus "kodesh kodashim" may, indeed, be taken here as a reference to
the azara.
David Silverberg
*****
Over
the last two days, we have discussed a problematic verse towards the end of Parashat Korach (18:10), which
appears, at first glance, to indicate that the kohanim
must eat the meat of sacrifices in the kodesh kodashim – the innermost chamber of the Mishkan. The commentators point out, however, that
this cannot possibly be true. Firstly,
only the kohen gadol may
enter the kodesh ha-kodashim,
and only on Yom Kippur, and secondly, elsewhere the Torah explicitly permits
and in fact requires eating sacrificial meat in the azara
(courtyard of the Mishkan/Mikdash). As we saw, one view in the Sifrei (cited in the name of Rabbi Yehuda Ben Beteira) understands this verse as permitting the
consumption of sacrificial meat in the "heikhal"-
the outer chamber inside the Mishkan – under
extenuating circumstances. For example,
if a war is being waged in the area around the Temple, forcing the kohanim
to remain inside, they may partake of the sacrificial meat there, inside the Mikdash. This view
thus interprets "kodesh ha-kodashim"
as a reference to the outer chamber of the Temple,
and understands the verse as addressing unique circumstances when the kohanim are compelled to stay inside the Temple.
The
Ramban, in his commentary to this verse, cites this
view from the Sifrei and adds, astonishingly enough,
that this view would permit – under extenuating circumstances – partaking of
sacrificial meat even in the kodesh ha-kodashim, in the innermost sanctum of the Mikdash. Although
the Sifrei makes mention only of the heikhal, in truth, the Ramban
claims, the halakha applies to the kodesh ha-kodashim, as well. Thus, according to the Ramban,
when warfare or some other danger forces the kohanim
to remain inside the Temple,
they may partake of sacrificial meat even inside the kodesh
ha-kodashim.
This, the Ramban claims, is how the Sifrei read our verse: under certain circumstances, the kohanim may partake of sacrificial meat even in the kodesh kodashim.
The
Keli Chemda (on this parasha) discusses this position of the Ramban
at length. After noting the novelty of
such a halakha, permitting kohanim
to eat sacrificial meat in the kodesh ha-kodashim, the Keli Chemda poses a challenge to this view based on a Gemara in Masekhet Zevachim (63a). The Gemara there discusses a situation of an animal sacrifice
that was mistakenly slaughtered inside the Mikdash. Generally, animal sacrifices were slaughtered
in the azara.
However, according to Rabbi Yochanan, a shelamim offering that was mistakenly slaughtered inside
the Temple is
not disqualified, and its meat may be eaten.
Rabbi Yochanan took this position because
"she-lo yehei tafel chamur min ha-ikar" – literally,
"the secondary shall be no less than the primary." Rabbi Yochanan
found it logically inconceivable that a sacrificial ritual performed in the azara, the courtyard surrounding the Temple,
should have more validity than a ritual performed inside the Temple.
Therefore, if an offering may be slaughtered in the azara,
it cannot become disqualified if it is slaughtered inside. Reasonable as this argument sounds, the Gemara seeks to refute Rabbi Yochanan's
logic based on the aforementioned Sifrei. Recall that the Sifrei
interprets our verse as permitting kohanim to partake
of sacrificial meat inside the Temple
under extenuating circumstances.
According to Rabbi Yochanan's theory, however,
this should be self-evident, without need for textual basis. If the kohanim may
partake of the meat in the azara, then certainly,
according to Rabbi Yochanan's logic, they may eat it
inside the Temple,
as well.
In
asking this question, the Gemara assumes that the Sifrei extracted from this verse only one halakha: that in certain situations, the Mikdash is a suitable place of the consumption of
sacrificial meat. Had there been a
different source for this halakha – such as Rabbi Yochanan's reasoning – then this verse, as understood by
the Sifrei, would be superfluous. According to the Ramban's
reading of the Sifrei, however, the verse introduces
a far more novel rule: that kohanim may enter the kodesh ha-kodashim to partake of
sacrificial meat. Normally, entering the
kodesh ha-kodashim is
strictly forbidden and carries with it a death penalty (with the exception of
the kohen gadol during the
Yom Kippur service). Therefore, if we
accept the Ramban's reading of the Sifrei, the Gemara's challenge
against Rabbi Yochanan's position is easily resolved;
the verse is not superfluous, because it presents a most novel halakha, permitting entry into the kodesh
kodashim.
The
Keli Chemda t suggests a
very simple explanation of the Ramban's position to
resolve this difficulty. Recall that the
Sifrei refers to a case when the kohanim
face actual danger to life by remaining outdoors, due to warfare and the like,
in which case they may eat the sacrificial meat even indoors. When the Ramban
extended this provision to the kodesh ha-kodashim, he meant that should the kohanim
be forced to retreat to the kodesh ha-kodashim, because the enemy legions had penetrated the Temple, they may eat the
sacrificial meat there, too. Thus, this
verse does not permit entering the kodesh ha-kodashim. It rather
refers to a situation where the kohanim must enter
the kodesh ha-kodashim to
save their lives; once they are there, if they have with them sacrificial meat,
they may eat it even there in the kodesh ha-kodashim.
David Silverberg
*****
The
haftara for Parashat Korach, taken from Sefer Shemuel I (11:14-12:22), tells of the assembly called by
the prophet Shemuel after Benei
Yisrael's resounding victory over the nation of Amon. This was the
first war waged since the crowning of Am Yisrael's
first king, Shaul.
Shemuel gathers the people to "renew the
coronation" (11:14), and at this assembly he delivers a lengthy address in
which he reinforces the fundamental notion that in reality, God, not Shaul, is Benei Yisrael's king. He
reiterates his basic opposition to the idea of having a king, which might
replace the prophet – God's messenger – as the nation's leader, and reminds the
people that their success or failure in war ultimately depend not on their
flesh-and-blood king, but on the true King of the world.
Towards
the end of his address, Shemuel declares:
"Now stand by and see the
wondrous thing that the Lord will do before your eyes. It is the season of the wheat harvest. I will pray to the Lord and He will send
thunder and rain; then you will take thought and realize what a wicked thing
you did in the sight of the Lord when you asked for a king." (Shemuel I 12:16-17)
Sure enough, after Shemuel finishes speaking, a summertime thunderstorm – all
but unheard of in the Middle East – suddenly
rolls through, and the people become frightened. They plead with the prophet, "Intercede
for your servants with the Lord your God that we may not die, for we have added
to all our sins the wickedness of asking for a king" (12:19).
It
is clear from the verses that Shemuel had it rain as
an indication of God's anger over Benei Yisrael's request for a king. But why did he choose specifically this
demonstration? What particular point did
he wish to convey through this sudden, supernatural change of weather pattern?
Rashi explains that Shemuel
simply wanted to prove the unlimited power of his prayer. Shemuel saw within Benei Yisrael's request for a
king an element of skepticism in his ability to lead the nation to victory over
their enemies. Through this spectacle,
he sought to show that he could accomplish through his prayer far more than any
monarch could through his authority and military might.
The
Radak and Mahari Kara
explain somewhat differently, that Shemuel here
simply seeks to scare or warn Benei Yisrael. The mishna
in Masekhet Ta'anit (1:7)
cites this verse from Sefer Shemuel
as proof to the fact that rainfall after the month of Nissan constitutes a
"siman kelala" –
an ominous sign, forewarning catastrophe.
Shemuel thus had it rain to frighten the
people and inform them that they are deserving of calamity because of their
wrongdoing.
Malbim, however, takes an entirely different approach to
these verses. Among the central issues
that arise when studying Sefer Shemuel
I is the seeming inconsistency between Shemuel's
vehement opposition to the monarchy and the Torah's commandment to appoint a
king (Devarim 17:15).
Why would Shemuel so strongly oppose the idea
of appointing a king, if the Torah appears to not only sanction a monarchy, but
require it? Among the answers suggested
is that of Rabbi Yehuda, cited in the Sifrei to Parashat Shoftim. He claims that indeed, as the Torah
indicates, a monarchy is desirable and even constitutes a Biblical
command. The problem lies in the timing. Benei Yisrael
requested a king too early in their history; the time for kingship had yet to
arrive. Malbim
explains that the Torah calls for the establishment of a royal government only
once Benei Yisrael settle in, so-to-speak, to a life
governed by natural law. In the
meantime, however, Benei Yisrael still lived a miraculous
existence; they had yet to reach the stage of national maturity where they
could strike the delicate balance between natural living and recognition of
divine providence. It was therefore
necessary for them to live under the rule and authority of a prophet, rather
than of a king.
This,
Malbim writes, explains the significance of the
unseasonable thunderstorm. Rain is a
great blessing, but only if it falls in its proper time. Shemuel hoped to
teach Benei Yisrael that the same could be said about
the monarchy. Though inherently
acceptable and in fact obligatory, kingship will work only if it is introduced
at the proper time.
David Silverberg
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To see this year's S.A.L.T. selections:
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www.vbm-torah.org/salt.htm
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