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The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
Midrash
Parshat HaShavua Yeshivat Har Etzion
This parasha series is dedicated in memory of Michael
Jotkowitz, z"l.
PARASHAT CHUKAT
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Dedicated in honor of the upcoming marriage of Jackie Siegel
(Silver Spring) and Bruria Neuburger (Teaneck) by parents Yitzchok and Barbie
Lehmann Siegel and sister Russie.
The VBM wishes a warm mazal tov to Malka and Aharon Simkovich
on the birth of a son! Yehi ratzon she-tizku legadlo le-Torah, le-chuppa
u-le-ma'asim tovim. Mazal tov also to the proud grandparents, Rabbi Moshe and
Laurie Simkovich and Dr. Allen and Naomi Zeiger. May you always have much
nachas!
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Julie and David Fine in memory of Chemda bat Sara, z"l and
Ziesel Rivkah bat Gitel Maryam, z"l
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Dedicated in memory of Zvi ben Moishe Reinitz, whose yahrzeit
will fall this Shabbat, Bet Tammuz. From those who remember him.
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The Emergence of the Second Generation
By Rav Yair Kahn
The Israelites arrived, the entire congregation, at the
wilderness of Zin in the first month [of the fortieth year] ... (Bemidbar
20:1)
Rashi: "The entire congregation" means the congregation that
was complete, for [the generation of the exodus] had died in the desert, and
these had remained alive.
Here we are finally introduced to the second generation,
who will succeed where their predecessors had failed. In a previous shiur, we
noted the midrash which defines Sefer Bemidbar as the book that distinguishes
between light and dark, i.e. between the first generation, who failed in their
mission, and the second generation, who succeeded. Therefore, we would expect
the difference between these two generations to be as clear as night and
day.
However, even a glance at our parasha leads to the
troubling conclusion that nothing seems to have changed. The same mistakes made
by the first generation seem to be repeated by their successors. When we read
the passages where Benei Yisrael complain about food and water, we are struck
with the strange sensation of deja-vu. The recurrent theme of the first
generation "why did you take us out of Egypt" is repeated by their children
(Bemidbar 20:5 and 21:5). Are we to conclude from this that there really is no
significant difference between the two generations? Is the only difference
rooted in one isolated incident that wasn't repeated by the second generation?
In order to resolve this issue, we must take a closer and more critical look at
those events which appear to be mere repetitions.
Let us first examine the complaint regarding the
"manna."
They set out from Mount Hor by way of the Sea of Reeds to skirt
the land of Edom. But the people grew restive on the journey, and the people
spoke against God and against Moses, "Why did you make us leave Egypt to die in
the wilderness? There is no bread and no water, and we have come to loathe this
miserable food." (Bemidbar 21:4-5)
The comparable complaint of the first generation is recorded in
Parashat Baha'alotekha.
The riffraff in their midst felt a gluttonous craving; and then
the Israelites wept and said, "If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish
we used to eat free in Egypt, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions,
and garlic. Now our gullets are shriveled. There is nothing at all! Nothing but
this manna to look to!" (Bemidbar 11:4-6)
In their first complaint about the manna, Benei Yisrael
reminisce about the wonderful menu they had enjoyed while subject to Egyptian
bondage. This is certainly a strange and ungrateful reaction, highlighted by the
striking term "chinam" - for free. Even if we were to accept that the Egyptian
slavemasters treated their Hebrew slaves to culinary delicacies, we can hardly
be impressed by their generosity. Benei Yisrael paid dearly for their meals with
blood, sweat and tears. In contrast, how much did God charge for the manna that
fell daily from the heavens?
Our sages, of course, noted the absurdity of this
argument. Rashi quotes a Sifrei (Beha'alotekha, 29) which offers an insightful
interpretation.
"We remember the fish" - Did they indeed receive fish for free?
Does it not say, "Go and work, and straw will not be given to you" - if they
would not give them even straw, would they give them fish? What, then, do they
mean by "free?" [They mean} free from mitzvot.
According to this explanation, Benei Yisrael's complaint
revolved around the requirement to abide by the divine commandments imposed upon
them. They reminisced about the unfettered life they led in Egypt, before being
bound by the divine imperative. The food they received in Egypt was not
dependent upon halakhic behavior. Manna, in contrast, demanded restraint and
acceptance of the halakhic norm. Only a specific amount could be taken, and only
on certain days. All that was taken had to be finished within the time allotted
by the law.
Let us try to uncover what lies at the root of this
complaint. In Beha'alotekha, Benei Yisrael have only recently been freed from
bondage. However, the transition from slavery to freedom is complex and requires
more than nullifying the possession of the slave-owner. After all, the
distinction between a free person and a slave is not merely an economic one, but
an existential one as well. A free man shoulders responsibility, while a slave
is totally dependent upon others. His life functions are controlled by his
master. He makes no choices for himself, and looks upon others to support him.
He is not tormented by the consequences of his decisions, because he does not
decide. Although in a state of bondage, he is free from the worries that are
inherent to the responsibilities of independence.
Our Sages had profound insight into the depths of human
character and boldly proclaimed, "Avda be-hefkeira nicha lei" - a slave, from
his limited perspective, prefers the lack of commitment which is typical of
bondage (Gittin 13a). In fact, the Torah informs us that under certain
circumstances a person is apt to choose a life of slavery over freedom.
But if the slave declares, "I love my master, and my wife and
children: I do not wish to be free"... (Shemot 21:5)
However, in such a case, the law requires that the ear of the
slaved be pierced. According to our Rabbis, this indicates that the decision to
remain in slavery runs counter to the message, transmitted both in Egypt and at
Sinai, of commitment to God.
"Then his master shall bring him ... to the door, or to the
doorpost, and his master shall pierce his ear with an awl; and he shall serve
him forever." (Shemot 21:6)
Rashi (quoting Kiddushin 22b):
Why is it more appropriate to pierce [the slave's] ear, rather
than any other part of his body?
Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai said ... The ear which heard at
Sinai, "For to Me are Benei Yisrael slaves," and then went and acquired an owner
for himself - let it be pierced!
Rabbi Shimon expounded this verse beautifully: In what way are
the door and the doorpost different than all other utensils in the house? God
said: The door and the doorpost were witness in Egypt when I passed over [the
houses of the Jews] and said, "For to Me are Benei Yisrael slaves; they are My
slaves" - and not slaves to slaves; yet nevertheless this person went out and
acquired a master for himself - let him be pierced before
them!
In Judaism, religious commitment requires existential
freedom. Although man must surrender his will unconditionally to God and accept
absolutely the divine imperative, God is not interested in obedience that
enslaves man existentially, but rather in commitment that uplifts man
spiritually.
"And the writing was the writing of God, engraved (charut) upon
the tablets" - Do not read "engraved" (charut) but rather "free" (cherut), for
no one is truly free except he who engages in Torah study. (Avot
6:2)
Man must be able to freely accept upon himself the
halakhic norm along with the yoke of Heaven. He must be capable of exercising
"free will" - the ability to choose between good and evil, between life and
death. He must be willing to shoulder responsibility for those decisions. Free
man redeems himself by choosing life. In sharp contrast, the slave prefers to
free himself of responsibility; however, he enslaves himself existentially. He
accepts orders and acts accordingly so as not to be fettered by responsibility
and tormented by decisions.
Although freed from Egyptian bondage, Benei Yisrael had
not as of yet been weaned from a slave mentality. Despite receiving the Torah
and boldly proclaiming, "Naaseh Ve-nishma" - "We shall do and we shall hear,"
the transition from bondage to freedom had not been completed. Therefore the
people complained about the manna, which demanded the high price of spiritual
responsibility and commitment. They reminisced about the uncommitted life of
slavery typical of Egypt.
In discussing the episode of the spies, we noted that
the decree was due in part to the nation's immaturity. They lacked the security
and composure necessary to conquer Canaan. The "telunot" (complaints) reflected
a character flaw of a people unwilling to assume the responsibility required to
realize Jewish destiny. According to our analysis of the complaint regarding the
manna, this deficiency can already be detected at the beginning of the journey
from Sinai.
Based on this, we can explain the opinion (Shabbat 116a)
that the parasha of "Vayehi bi-nesoa" was introduced in order to separate the
negative events which precede the parasha (i.e. childishly escaping Sinai), from
those which are recounted afterwards (the complaints at the beginning of the
journey beginning with manna). Following the parasha of "Vayihi bi-nesoa," we
noted a steady decline which continues through Korach. There is no attempt at
downplaying the impression of deterioration. Why then was it necessary to insert
"vayihi bi-nesoa" to separate specifically between these two iniquities. It
appears that the separation was introduced in order to distinguish between
inherently incommensurate events. The sense of relief when leaving Sinai is
unrelated to the process of decline which led up to the sin of the spies. It is
merely a human reaction to the intensity and profound spiritual tension of
"matan Torah." On the other hand, the decree condemning the first generation to
death in the wilderness is inherently connected to the "telunot" at the onset of
the journey. There is a link between the complaint regarding the manna and the
sin of the spies. Both reflect a basic character flaw typical of a nation raised
in bondage.
We are now ready to examine our parasha:
They set out from Mount Hor by way of the Sea of Reeds to skirt
the land of Edom. But the people grew restive on the journey and the people
spoke against God and against Moses, "Why did you make us leave Egypt to die in
the wilderness? There is no bread and no water, and we have come to loathe this
miserable food." (Bemidbar 21:4-6)
Once again it seems that the people, like their parents,
complain about the exodus from Egypt. However, upon closer analysis, we notice
something odd about this complaint. Why do the people speak of dying in the
wilderness? Although they are tired of eating manna for forty years, monotony is
not usually fatal. Furthermore, why do they continue to complain about water? We
read in the previous chapter that the well was restored.
It seems clear that the people are not reminiscing about
Egypt, but rather expressing their frustration at not immediately entering Eretz
Yisrael. In order to avoid Edom, they are directed back towards Yam Suf, instead
of turning towards Canaan. They are fed up with wilderness and its manna, and
challenge Moshe: Were we taken out of Egypt in order to perish in the
wilderness!? Wasn't the purpose of the exodus to inherit Eretz Yisrael, a land
of wheat fields and running water? They are impatient, not hesitant; they are
brimming with confidence, not incapacitated by fear.
We find a parallel distinction regarding the water
complaint. The first generation argues that they should never have been taken
out of Egypt and placed in a life-threatening situation in the wilderness.
"Why did you bring us up from Egypt, to kill us and our
children and livestock with thirst?" (Shemot 17:3)
The argument of the second generation runs in the opposite
direction, towards Eretz Yisrael, not back to Egypt.
The people quarreled with Moshe, saying, "If only we had
perished when our brothers perished before the Lord! Why have you brought the
Lord's congregation into this wilderness for us and our beasts to die there? Why
did you make us leave Egypt to bring us to this wretched place, a place with no
grain or figs or vines or pomegranates? There is not even water to drink!"
(Bemidbar 20:3-5)
With the death of Miriam, the well is no longer
available to the people. They find themselves in the wilderness with no source
of water. They are dying of thirst and begin to complain about the wilderness.
Surprisingly, they do not complain immediately about their thirst; first they
point to the lack of wheat and figs, pomegranates and dates, and as an
afterthought they also mention the lack of water. This bizarre argument leaves
no room for doubt about their true intentions. We all know what figs, dates and
pomegranates refer to, and it is obvious what was foremost on their minds. In
spite of the lack of water, they complain about still being in this horrible
wilderness. After forty years, it's time to enter Eretz Yisrael.
In conclusion, the generation taken out of bondage was
not able to fully free itself from the mindset characteristic of slaves. After
the exodus, they view God as a divine slavemaster who has to care for their
every need. Unwilling to assume personal responsibility, they complain every
time their needs are not provided for. This trait expresses itself in the events
which immediately follow the exodus, such as the complaint regarding the lack of
water. However, even after receiving the Torah and commencing on the march
towards Eretz Yisrael, they continue to complain, longing for the simple,
uncomplicated and uncommitted life of Egypt. The climax is finally reached at
the sin of the spies, when the fateful decree was issued. However, we can trace
the roots of this decree to Masa and Meriva, when the nation redeemed from Egypt
complained about the lack of water. This connection is expressed in a well known
message from Tehillim recited every Friday evening.
Do not harden your hearts as in Meriva, as in the day of Masa
in the wilderness: when your fathers tempted Me, proved Me, even though they saw
My deeds. Forty years long did I loathe this generation and I said, It is a
people that errs in their heart, and that do not know My ways; whereupon I swore
in My wrath that they should not enter into My resting-place. (Tehillim
95:8-11)
A careful reading of parashat Chukat reveals the
metamorphosis of Keneset Yisrael. They are confident - not insecure, impatient -
not hesitant. They find themselves in similar situations as their parents,
however, the subtleties that separate their respective responses distinguish
night from day.
"And God distinguished between the light and the darkness" -
This alludes to Sefer Bemidbar, which distinguishes between [the generation
that] left Egypt and those who entered the Land. (Bereishit Rabba
3:5)
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