S.A.L.T. - PARASHAT BEHAALOTEKHA

By Rav David Silverberg

Motzaei Shabbat

            We read in Parashat Behaalotekha of the sin of Kivrot Ha-ta’ava, when Benei Yisrael wept over the lack of food in the desert.  Although they were sustained miraculously by a daily portion of manna that fell from the sky each morning, they craved a richer “menu,” expressing a desire for meat and nostalgically recalling the variety of foods they were fed as slaves in Egypt (11:4-6).

            In describing this incident, the Torah appears to emphasize the fact that the complaints were voiced in front of the people’s tents: “Moshe heard the people weeping by families, each person by the entrance to his tent; the Lord was very incensed, and it was [also] evil in Moshe’s eyes” (11:10).  The Torah underscores the “familial” aspect of the people’s complaints, noting that they wept “le-mishpechotav” – “by family” – each family near its tent.

            The Chatam Sofer offers an insightful explanation for this emphasis.  We are urged to feel content with what we have, but without expecting others to do the same.  For ourselves, we should be grateful and gratified even if we have little, but when it comes to our fellowmen, we should wish and work for their prosperity, and not demand that they feel content with the little they have.  The Torah emphasizes that at Kivrot Ha-ta’ava, the people wept “each person by the entrance to his tent.”  This was not a collective protest, where the people were genuinely concerned about both themselves and others.  Had this been the case, there could perhaps be room to mitigate their guilt, as they were sincerely troubled by their friends’ and neighbors’ meager rations.  But the people grumbled “ish petach ohalo,” single-mindedly focused on their own unsatisfied desire for more food.  They complained only for themselves, and not collectively, for the wellbeing of the nation generally.  And for this reason, the Chatam Sofer explains, “the Lord was very incensed, and it was [also] evil in Moshe’s eyes.”  As the people’s wailing were borne out of a selfish lust for more food, without a broader concern for the nation as a whole, their guilt was unmitigated and they were thus liable to the harsh divine punishment that ensued.

Sunday

            Parashat Behaalotekha begins with the mitzva of the lighting of the menorah in the Beit Ha-mikdash, a ritual assigned to the kohanim.  This brief section includes the Torah’s confirmation that Aharon complied with these commands (8:3), and Rashi, citing the Sifrei, famously comments, “Le-hagid shevacho shel Aharon she-lo shina” – “This speaks in praise of Aharon, that he did not deviate [from the laws concerning the kindling of the menorah].”

            Many writers and darshanim addressed the question of why Aharon was deserving of special “praise” for his strict compliance with these laws.  After all, we would not have expected anything less from the nation’s first kohen gadol.

            One simple explanation, perhaps, is that the entire question is predicated on a fundamentally flawed presumption – that praise is warranted only when one goes beyond the strict call of duty.  Possibly, the Sifrei precisely seeks to convey the point that even “she-lo shina” – doing as one’s told – is praiseworthy.  We often tend to reserve compliments and words of praise for extraordinary and exceptional actions and achievements.  Accolades tend to be conferred upon those who do more than what is ordinarily expected, who stand out in a certain area or several areas.  The Sifrei might be reminding us that simply following instructions, fulfilling our responsibilities day in, and day out, like Aharon’s daily kindling of the menorah, warrants “shevach” (praise).  We should acknowledge, respect and admire not only the beyond-the-call-of-duty work of the people around us, but even the “she-lo shina,” their consistent fulfillment of their basic duties and responsibilities.  Praise should not be reserved for the special favors that are done for us, or for those who make great sacrifices and extend themselves on our behalf.  We must follow the Sifrei’s example of admiring even the simple, everyday “she-lo shina,” when the people in our lives simply do what they are supposed to do on a day-to-day basis.

Monday

            In the beginning of Parashat Behaalotekha, God issues a command concerning the kindling of the menorah in the Mishkan: “Speak to Aharon and tell him that when you light the lamps, the lamps shall illuminate toward the front of the menorah.”  Rashi, Seforno and others explain this command to mean that the wicks of the six lamps that extend from the middle of the menorah should be tilted toward the middle lamp.  The Rashbam claims that this verse instructs tilting the wicks of all seven lamps toward the shulchan, which was positioned opposite the menorah, along the northern side of the Mishkan.

            The Sifrei Zuta, commenting on this verse, explains the command much differently, but the precise intent of its comment is unclear and subject to some controversy.  The brief passage reads, “she-hayu chozerin chalila ke-min atara” – literally, “they would go around like a crown.”  The Magen Avraham, in his Zayit Ra’anan commentary to the Sifrei Zuta, writes that the Sifrei Zuta appears to maintain that the six branches of the menorah were not positioned along the two sides of the menorah, as is commonly understood.  Rather, they were positioned around the menorah, such that the middle lamp was surrounded by the six other lamps, resembling a crown surrounding a ruler’s head.  According to this interpretation, the six branches extended from the middle branch and then turned in such a way that they encircled the middle branch.  The Magen Avraham then suggests reconciling the Sifrei Zuta’s comment with the conventional view by claiming that it refers to the shape of each individual branch, rather than the menorah as a whole.  Meaning, each branch extended from the middle branch in an arched fashion and rose to the side of the menorah alongside the middle lamp.

            According to the Magen Avraham’s second interpretation, this passage in the Sifrei Zuta provides a source for the common depiction of the menorah, according to which the six branches extended from the middle in an arch.  This is the view taken by Ibn Ezra, in his commentary to Sefer Shemot (27:21 and Peirush Ha-katzar, 25:37).  Compelling proof to this view may perhaps be drawn from the Arch of Titus, which depicts the Romans’ victory march after the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE, and which shows the legions carrying the menorah.  In this depiction, the branches are arched, like in the commonly assumed depictions of the menorah.

            The Rambam, however, in his commentary to the Mishna (Menachot), presents a depiction of the menorah with the branches extending straight from the middle of the menora, in a diagonal, as opposed to an arch.  His son, Rabbi Avraham ben Ha-Rambam, in his Torah commentary, confirms that this was the Rambam’s view.

            There is a third interpretation of the Sifrei Zuta’s comment, which was suggested by Rav Meir Ish Shalom (1831-1908), in his annotation to the Berayta Di-mlekhet Ha-mishkan (Vienna, 5668).  He claims that the Sifrei Zuta refers not to the shape of the menorah, but rather to the method of its lighting.  Namely, God commanded that Aharon would light the first lamp, and his two sons would then light the second and third lamps, after which the rotation returned to Aharon, and so on.  The three kohanim stood around the menorah “like a crown” and passed the torch one to the other as they lit each lamp, and this, according to Rav Meir Ish Shalom, is the meaning of the Sifrei’s comment, “chozerin chalila.”  He cites a passage in Masekhet Berakhot (51) where the Gemara speaks of a gathering of people with the term “atara” (“me’atreihu be-talmidim”).  Rav Menachem Kasher, in his Torah Sheleima (milu’im to Parashat Teruma, 14), adds that in Sefer Shemuel I (23:26), David’s men are described as surrounding him to protect him with the term “oterim.”  It is thus possible that the Sifrei Zuta, too, refers to the kohanim crowding around the menorah as they took turns lighting the lamps.

Tuesday

            The Torah in Parashat Behaalotekha (9:1-14) tells of pesach sheni, the law requiring offering the korban pesach on 14 Iyar, a month after its regular time, in the event that one was unable to offer the sacrifice at its proper time.  This law was presented in response to a question submitted by a group of individuals who were unable to observe the korban pesach obligation on the first Pesach celebrated by Benei Yisrael after the Exodus.  The people approached Moshe and Aharon and appealed for the opportunity to offer the sacrifice despite being in a state of tum’a which rendered them halakhically excluded from the korban pesach.  God spoke to Moshe and instructed that those who were ritually impure on Pesach should bring the offering one month later, in Iyar.

            Many commentators have noted the clear parallel between this account and the story of Tzelofchad’s daughters, of which we read later in Sefer Bamidbar (27:1-11).  In anticipation of Benei Yisrael’s imminent entry into Eretz Yisrael and distribution of the land, Tzelofchad’s daughters came to Moshe and Elazar and asked that the portion allotted to their deceased father be allotted to them, rather than be transferred to their uncles.  Moshe brought the question to God, who then presented the halakha that if a man passes away without sons, then his estate is inherited by his daughters.  It seems that in both instances – pesach sheni and the benot Tzelofchad – a group of people appealed to Moshe and the kohen gadol and asked for (or perhaps demanded) inclusion in something from which they stood to be excluded, and their request was granted.  Besides the contextual resemblance, both groups also employ noticeably similar terminology in presenting their case – “lama nigara” (“why should we be deprived” – 9:7), “lama yigara” (“why should [our father’s name] be lost” – 27:4).  Indeed, it is commonly understood that both groups – the people who were tamei, and Tzelofchad’s daughters – were passionately committed to the mitzva in question – korban pesach, preserving Tzelofchad’s portion – and were rewarded for their idealism and fervor by having their genuine request granted.

            However, there is one important difference between the two stories, one which may perhaps frame the incident of the temei’im in a much different perspective.  When Moshe brought the question of Tzelofchad’s daughters to God, God began his response with a firm “endorsement” of their claim: “Kein benot Tzelofchad doverot” (“Tzelofchad’s daughters speak correctly” – 27:7).  He explicitly affirms the validity of their argument that they should be given their father’s estate.  When it comes to pesach sheni, by contrast, we find no such recognition that the petitioners’ claim was valid.  In fact, if we read their request carefully, we see that it was not granted, at least not fully.  They said to Moshe, “Why should we be deprived of offering the sacrifice of the Lord at its time among the Israelites.”  They requested the right to offer the korban pesach “be-mo’ado be-tokh Benei Yisrael” – on the 14^th of Nissan, together with the entire nation, despite their state of ritual impurity.  (Rav Saadia Gaon, in his commentary, explains this verse to mean that they requested the opportunity to offer the sacrifice the same way it is offered “at its time,” but not to actually offer it on the 14^th of Nissan; the plain reading of the verse, however, indicates otherwise.)   In response to this request, God did not proclaim, “Kein ha-temei’im doverim,” that the temei’im advanced a correct argument.  Nor does He fully grant their request.  Instead, God introduces the concept of pesach sheni, obligating those who were ritually impure on the 14^th of Nissan to offer the sacrifice a month later.  He does not allow them to bring the offering “in its time, among the Israelites,” as they had requested.  Their sacrifice is brought at a different time, and not together with the rest of the nation.

            The message, perhaps, that emerges from this contrast is that when people sincerely come forward with a petition of “lama nigara,” seeking inclusion in an area where they have previously excluded, the answer depends on the circumstances.  Sometimes, as in the case of Tzelofchad’s daughters, the request will meet with halakhic approval, but in other occasions, such as the instance of the temei’im, the petition will be denied.  There is no single, blanket answer to the question of “lama nigara”; each case must be carefully examined and assessed in light of established halakhic principles and norms, among other relevant factors, to determine whether or not the request could or should be granted. See Chatam Sofer to 9:8

Wednesday

            We read in Parashat Behaalotekha of the group of temei’im – individuals who were in a state of ritual impurity when the time came to offer the korban pesach a year after the Exodus.  The group approached Moshe and Aharon to request permission to offer the paschal sacrifice despite their state of tum’a: “We are impure… Why should we be deprived of offering the sacrifice of the Lord at its time among the Israelites?” (9:7).  In response, God instructed Moshe with regard to pesach sheni, the requirement to offer the korban pesach a month after the regular offering is brought, if one was in a state of tum’a at that time.

            The Sifrei, and the Gemara in Masekhet Sukka (25a-b), famously cite several theories in identifying these people.  The different Tanna’im cited identify these temei’im as either the bearers of Yosef’s coffin, the cousins of Nadav and Avihu – the older sons of Aharon who were killed by a heavenly fire inside the Mishkan – who brought the bodies outside, or people who buried a meit mitzva – a corpse that had no one else to tend to it.

            The obvious question arises as to why Chazal found it necessary to address this question at all, and to identify the temei’im as people who became tamei as a result of their involvement in an important mitzva.  As Ibn Ezra notes, it is perfectly reasonable to assume that among such a multitude there were many people who passed on and whose family members thus contracted tum’a.  What might have prompted Chazal to identify this group specifically as people who contracted tum’a through their engagement in a special mitzva?

            The likely answer, as noted by Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg in his Yalkut Yehuda, is that the Sages sought to answer the question of how the temei’im petitioned to offer the korban pesach in their state of ritual impurity.  As we discussed yesterday, the temei’im did not request a pesach sheni, an opportunity to offer the sacrifice after they regained their ritual purity.  Rather, they wanted to bring the offering “at its time, among the Israelites,” despite the clear halakhic barrier that prevented such a possibility.  What, then, were they thinking?  On what basis did they ask Moshe to allow them to offer the korban pesach?  Why did they think that the standard rules of tum’a and tahara would be waived for them?

            The answer is that these were not ordinary temei’im.  They had acquired this status as a result of holy work, and they therefore felt that perhaps the standard restrictions could be lifted.  It did not seem right to them that their involvement in a lofty mitzva operation should result in their exclusion from the nationwide korban pesach festivities.  It was specifically because they were involved in the holy task of tending to the remains of Yosef, Nadav and Avihu, or a meit mitzva that they felt the rules should be bent on their behalf so they could offer the korban pesach together with everybody else on the 14^th of Nissan.

            If so, then this episode reminds us that involvement in lofty endeavors does not absolve us of our basic halakhic obligations.  Exceptional work in one area of religious life does not justify subpar performance in other areas.  The laws of korban pesach remained in force even for those who transported Yosef’s remains.  The special mitzvot we perform do not allow us to relax the basic standards that apply in other areas.  Even if we “specialize” in certain areas of avodat Hashem, this does not justify neglecting the others.

Thursday

            The final section of Parashat Behaalotekha tells the famous story of Miriam and Aharon’s disparaging comments about their brother, Moshe, regarding his marriage.  It is unclear from the text precisely what they said, but Rashi (12:1), citing Chazal, explains that they criticized Moshe for his decision to separate from his wife.  Miriam had recently learned of Moshe’s separation from Tzipora, and she shared the news with Aharon.  The two of them, both of whom were themselves prophets, expressed to each other their strong objection to this drastic measure, as the Torah relates, “They said, ‘Did the Lord speak only with Moshe?  Did He not speak with us, as well?” (12:2).  Despite their stature as prophets, Aharon and Miriam never for a moment considered the need to abstain from marital relations, and they thus criticized Moshe for having done so.  They did not realize that God had instructed Moshe to separate from Tzipora because of the frequency of his prophecy which demanded a constant state of preparedness.

            The punishment incurred by Miriam for these disparaging remarks against her brother serves as the paradigm of the sin of lashon ha-ra, negative speech about other people (see Devarim 24:9 and commentaries).  Indeed, there are several aspects of lashon ha-ra that may be learned from the particular story of Miriam and Aharon, but in light of Rashi’s comments, we might point specifically to the need to recognize the differences between people.  Miriam and Aharon’s mistake lay in their assumption that the same set of standards and guidelines applied across the board to all prophets.  As the Sifrei Zuta comments, “[Aharon and Miriam said:] Moshe is an arrogant person!  Did the Almighty speak only with Him?  He has already spoken with many prophets, and with us, and we did not separate from our spouses as he separated [from his wife].”  They failed to recognize that the stature of prophet can be achieved on many different levels, and thus the regulations that apply to one prophet will not necessarily apply to the other.  Aharon and Miriam’s remarks reflected a mindset that views prophecy as a kind of monolithic status whose rules apply equally to all.  This was incorrect, as God had explicitly instructed Moshe that his unique stature demanded the drastic measure of abstaining from marital relations – a measure that was not required of other prophets.

            Often, the root cause of lashon ha-ra is precisely this mistake – failing to recognize the fact that different people do things differently.  We are often “put off” by the behavior, choices and lifestyle of peers because they differ significantly from ours.  Just as different guidelines applied to different prophets, similarly, different people lead their lives in different ways and react differently to the same situation.  And just as Miriam and Aharon should have reserved judgment before criticizing Moshe, we, too, must reserve judgment before ridiculing or objecting to the actions of the people around us.  Even if someone does things in a way in which we would never do them, this does not necessarily make them wrong.  We must learn to accept the fact that different people make different choices in life, and what’s right for one person might not be right for somebody else.

Friday

            In the opening verses of Parashat Behaalotekha, the Torah issues a command concerning the kindling of the menorah in the Beit Ha-mikdash: “When you kindle the lamps, the seven lamps shall shine toward the front of the menorah.”  This command is ambiguous, but the most common explanation is that the lamps to the right and to the left of the middle lamp should be tilted toward the middle.

            Seforno (8:2) advances a theory to explain the symbolic significance of this arrangement.  He writes that the two sides of the menorah represent the two basic groups among Am Yisrael – those involved mainly in “chayei sha’a,” worldly pursuits, and those who devote their lives to “chayei olam,” Torah study.  Both groups must focus their attention on the “middle lamp,” meaning, the central purpose of it all, which is the service of the Almighty.  Whether we are among those who engage in ordinary work for a living or among those who devote themselves entirely to Torah learning, we must be “turned” toward the middle, without ever losing sight of the Godly purpose behind our pursuits.

            Rav Moshe Mordechai Karp, in his Vayavinu Ba-mikra, notes that Seforno’s insight may help explain the famous Midrashic passage cited by Rashi concerning the command of the menorah.  The Midrash tells that Aharon felt dismayed that he did not participate in the special gifts brought by the nesi’im, the twelve tribal leaders, in honor of the Mishkan’s inauguration.  The leader of each tribe brought a gift – with the exception of Aharon, leader of the tribe of Levi.  God sought to ease Aharon’s concerns by reminding him of the mitzva of kindling of menorah, indicating to Aharon that, in the Midrash’s words, “yours is greater than theirs.”  Already the Ramban raised the question of why Aharon, the kohen gadol, would be troubled by his exclusion from the nesi’im’s gift, and why specifically the mitzva of kindling the menorah would provide him with comfort.  The Seforno’s comments may allow us to explain the Midrash by noting the fundamental contrast between the nesi’im’s gift and the menorah.  Each tribal leader offered his gift as a representative of his tribe, such that each of the twelve tribes of Israel had its special day of celebration in honor of the Mishkan, signifying the special value and unique stature of each individual tribe.  The Midrash teaches that the kindling of the menorah, which represents the unified mission that binds together all segments of the nation, is greater than the tribal leaders’ offering, the celebration of the individual tribes.  Individuality is important and has its place, but even greater than individual or tribal achievement is the menorah, the notion of bringing together the different segments of the nation and highlighting the “middle lamp,” the joint mission and set of ideals that we all share.