The Israel Koschitzky
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PARASHAT
CHUKAT
Rav David
Silverberg
We read in Parashat Chukat of the attack against Benei Yisrael launched by the Emorite King Sichon, and
Benei Yisrael's triumphant response which resulted in
their conquest of the Emorite kingdom.
In this context the Torah digresses onto the history of this territory,
which Sichon had captured from Moav.
The Torah includes as well the ode to Sichon composed by the bards of the
time, lauding Sichon for his remarkable triumph over Moav. The Torah's presentation of this ode
begins with the words, "Al kein
yomeru ha-moshelim bo'u Cheshbon"
"The bards therefore declared: Come to Cheshbon [the Emorite capital]!"
(21:27).
The Gemara in Masekhet Bava Batra (78b) famously cites a homiletic reading of this verse, whereby the word moshelim ("bards") refers to ha-moshelim be-yitzram "those who control their inclination." These moshelim achieve this control by saying, "Bo'u cheshbon," which the Gemara interprets to mean, "Let us make the calculation of the world the loss of a mitzva against its reward, and the reward for a sin against its loss." People who assert control over their sinful impulses do so by recognizing how the ultimate reward for mitzva performance far outweighs any loss that it incurs, and, likewise, how whatever one gains from committing a transgression is more than offset by what he stands to lose.
The question arises as to whether this message bears any connection to the context of this verse, Sichon's victory over Moav. Did Chazal impose this reading on these words without regard for their context, or is the message of the "calculation of the world" somehow relevant to the epic battle between the Emorites and Moav?
One point of connection, perhaps, relates to stark contrast between
Sichon's short-lived glory and ultimate defeat. His triumph over Moav appeared to bring
him to the greatest heights of power and success, as he became the envy of the
surrounding nations and a focus of attention by the world's greatest
lyricists. In retrospect, however,
this stunning victory was but the first stage of Sichon's downfall. His new kingdom's presence along
Benei Yisrael's route, and his arrogance and confidence in the wake of
his victory over Moav, led him to initiate hostilities against Benei
Yisrael, a campaign that resulted in his death and his nation's defeat at
the hands of
This contrast between short-term gain and long-term collapse is precisely
the "cheshbono shel olam," the "calculation of the world" which one
must make in order to restrain his sinful inclinations. So long as a person focuses his
attention squarely on the present and immediate future, he will encounter
considerable difficulty resisting the lures of sinful conduct. The Talmud thus teaches us to look to
the example of Sichon, where short-term victory served only to hasten or
facilitate defeat. When weighing
the gains and losses of mitzvot and aveirot, one must carefully "calculate" the
immediate, short-term repercussions of his decisions against their long-term
consequences.
******
Parashat Chukat tells the famous and puzzling story of Mei Meriva, the
sin committed by Moshe and Aharon when God instructed them to assemble the
nation and produce water by speaking to a rock in the wilderness. Of the innumerable explanations given to
identify Moshe's misdeed, the most famous, perhaps, is the approach taken by
Rashi (20:12), who writes that by hitting, rather than speaking to, the rock,
Moshe forfeited an opportunity of kiddush Hashem, of "sanctifying" the Name of God. Had Moshe verbally instructed the rock
to produce water, Benei
Yisrael would have learned and
internalized the profound lesson of obedience, as they would have observed how
even inanimate objects faithfully obey the divine command, even if this entails
working against their nature. This
lesson was lost as a result of Moshe's hitting the rock, and for this he and his
brother were severely punished and denied entry into Eretz Yisrael.
The Rosh Yeshiva, HaRav Aharon Lichtenstein shlit"a
(http://vbm-torah.org/archive/sichot/bamidbar/39-60chukat.htm), pointed to this
incident as understood by Rashi as an example of the Torah's outlook on
potential that is not actualized.
Moshe sinned not in the conventional sense of committing a wrongful act
but rather in his failure to achieve the greatest kiddush Hashem that could have been realized in that
situation. We are bidden not only
to avoid wrongdoing, but also to pursue greatness and maximize our individual
potentials. Moshe was punished not
for disobeying God, but for falling short of the highest level of kiddush Hashem that could have been
achieved.
Rav Lichtenstein noted that this explains Aharon's inclusion in God's
hash decree. Aharon participated
generally in the events of Mei Meriva, but he did not strike the rock. Why is he held accountable for Moshe's
mistake? If one approaches the sin
of Mei Meriva as one of lost potential, then we can perhaps begin to understand
the source of Aharon's guilt. He,
like Moshe, was to make the most of this opportunity to convey the critical
message of obedience to Benei
Yisrael. Even though he did not strike the rock,
he failed to ensure that this event would achieve its primary objective, which
was not merely the provision of water, but also serving as a profound
educational experience for Benei
Yisrael.
Rav Lichtenstein pointed to two reasons why lost potential is looked upon
with such severity. For one thing,
the Torah views unfulfilled potential as a loss, as negative achievement, and
not merely the absence of a positive.
The Rambam (based on the Ri Migash) rules that if a person assigns
somebody to guard his field on condition that he plow the ground or prune the
fruits, and the guard fails to do so, he is held accountable as if he actively
caused damage to the property (Hilkhot Sekhirut 2:3). The guard's negligence resulted in a
loss of production potential, which is deemed equivalent to actual
damage.
Secondly, failure to maximize one's religious potential reflects an
attitude of indifference towards avodat Hashem.
If a person feels content achieving at the standard of his colleagues or
of previous generations who lived under more difficult conditions, then he fails
to afford religious achievement the importance and centrality it
deserves.
The story of Mei Meriva remains, as the Ramban famously remarked, among
the great mysteries of the Torah.
However, at least according to Rashi's approach, it should impress upon
us the importance of working to actualize our full potential and to take full
advantage of all opportunities we are given to excel in all areas of avodat Hashem.
******
Parashat Chukat begins with the section of para aduma, which introduces the laws regarding the
red heifer used for preparing the "purifying waters," through which people and
utensils attain tahara (purification) after coming in contact with
a human corpse. This section, of
course, is read as a special maftir reading on the Shabbat before the final
Shabbat of Adar, as during this period Jews in the time of the
Where does the Torah present this obligation, to read the laws of
para aduma each year?
One theory that has been espoused to explain this position invokes the
association drawn by the Midrash Tanchuma (Chukat, 8) between the para aduma and the sin of the golden calf. The Midrash comments that the red heifer
serves to atone for the sin of the calf just as a mother (the heifer) must clean
the filth left by her child (the calf).
In Sefer Devarim (9:7), Moshe exhorts the nation, "Remember, do not
forget, how you angered the Lord your God in the wilderness," a command that is
interpreted as requiring that we remember the sin of the golden calf. Just as the directive "Remember that
which Amalek did to you" (Devarim 25:17) introduces the obligation to conduct an
annual reading of the story of Amalek, so does "Remember
how you angered the
Lord" demand that we recall the golden calf through a yearly Torah reading. According to this theory, we fulfill
this obligation through the annual reading of the para aduma section, which introduces the
mitzva through which Benei
Yisrael earn atonement for the
golden calf.
Which particular aspect of chet ha-egel are we bidden to constantly remember, and
how is this achieved through the reading of parashat para?
Rav Daniel Feldman (www.yutorah.org/showShiur.cfm/705680/Rabbi_Daniel_Z._Feldman/Holy_Cow)
suggests that this obligation perhaps pertains specifically to the background to
chet ha-egel, which occurred just forty days after the
Revelation at
Among the most startling features of the para aduma is the quality of metaher et ha-temei'im
u-metamei et ha-tehorim, the fact that its ashes "purify the impure and
contaminate the pure." A kohen sprinkles the para aduma waters upon people and utensils that have
contracted tum'a to render them tahor, yet the
kohen himself becomes tamei as a result. This peculiarity can perhaps be seen as
symbolic of the phenomenon described earlier, the risks and potential of
spiritual success. Experiences such
as Ma'amad Har Sinai can, on the one hand, serve as a catalyst
for further growth and progress, but, on the other, can also lead to regression
and devastating failure.
Thus, the obligation to recall chet ha-egel through the reading of parashat para perhaps serves to remind us of the constant
need for vigilance and effort in avodat Hashem, regardless of the heights we have already
achieved.
******
The haftara for Parashat Chukat, which is taken from Sefer Shoftim (chapter 11), tells the story of Yiftach, the unlikely leader who rescued Benei Yisrael from the tyranny and oppression of the nation of Amon. The otherwise festive account concludes with the famous, tragic story of Yiftach's daughter. Before leaving on his campaign against Amon, Yiftach vowed to offer to God "the first that leaves the doors of my home to greet me upon my peaceful return from [war against] the Amonites" (Shoftim 11:31). God indeed grants Yiftach victory over Amon, and upon his return home, his daughter runs to greet him with song and dance. The Midrashim indicate that Yiftach actually sacrificed his daughter in fulfillment of his vow, whereas the Radak and other commentators suggest that he fulfilled his vow by forcing her into a life of celibacy.
The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 37:4; Tanchuma, end of Parashat Bechukotai) notes that there were sufficient halakhic grounds for annulling the vow and rendering it void. Pinchas, who then served as kohen gadol and the nation's religious leader, could have annulled Yiftach's vow, but felt it was beneath his dignity to initiate this process by visiting an ignoramus such as Yiftach. Yiftach, for his part, was unwilling to compromise his "royal" stature and lower himself by asking Pinchas to have his vow annulled. Both parties thus sat by passively waiting for the other to take the initiative, and the result was the tragic death or lifelong celibacy of Yiftach's daughter.
How might we explain Yiftach's stubborn refusal to consult with Pinchas? Especially if, as the Midrashim claim, his daughter's life was at stake, why was he unwilling to compromise his honor by seeking the annulment of his vow?
On one level, Yiftach's conduct serves as a jarring example of the Mishnaic dictum formulated by Rabbi Elazar Ha-kapar (Avot 4:21), "Jealousy, lust and honor drive a person from the world." The human drive for wealth, physical gratification and prestige are capable of clouding a person's reasoning to the point where he can lose all sensibility. Yiftach's desire for prestige prevented him from saving his own daughter's life by consulting with Pinchas; such is the potential power of the obsessive concern for honor and stature.
Additionally, however, we may point to other specific factors that led to Yiftach's irrational inflexibility. Rav Yigal Ariel, in his work Oz Va-anava (pp. 283-4), draws an intriguing comparison between Yiftach's attitude as depicted in the Midrash, and Achashverosh's response to Ester's request that Haman's decree against the Jews be repealed. Recall that Achashverosh allowed Mordekhai and Ester to enact any new decrees they saw fit, but was not willing to repeal Haman's edict, declaring "for writ that had been written in the king's name and stamped with the royal stamp cannot be revoked" (Ester 8:8). One of the signs of authority and power is the legal irrevocability of one's pronouncements. Achashverosh's policy of the unconditional irrevocability of royal edicts was intended as a demonstration of his self-proclaimed "god-like" power. So "sacred" were his pronouncements that they were not subject to annulment even by himself.
Yiftach sought to assert this kind of authority. What was at stake was more than the petty question of who should initiate the process. Yiftach could not bear to grant somebody else the authority to repeal his pronouncement; he felt that his position of authority depended on the permanence and unconditional binding nature of his vow. Granting Pinchas the authority to repeal it meant conceding to Pinchas' superiority, which would significantly undermine his attempts to affirm and solidify his leadership position among the nation.
******
Yesterday we discussed the story of Yiftach's vow, which is told in the eleventh chapter of Sefer Shoftim and read as the haftara for Parashat Chukat. Before leaving to wage battle against the nation of Amon, Yiftach vows to God that should he return victorious, he will designate as an offering "the first that leaves the doors of my home to greet me" (Shoftim 11:31). Tragically, it is Yiftach's daughter who first greets him upon his triumphant return home from battle. (As we saw, the commentators debate as to whether Yiftach actually brought his daughter as an offering, or subjected her to a life of celibacy.)
It is commonly understood that Yiftach made this vow under the assumption that an animal normally brought as a sacrifice such as a sheep or goat would be the first to greet him. This reading, however, leaves us wondering why he would make such an assumption. Furthermore, Yiftach specifies that he designates as an offering the first that "leaves the doors of my home," indicating that he refers to that which is normally in the home and comes out to greet him upon his return. It is hard to imagine that his family's sheep and cattle were kept inside the house; seemingly, he refers to human beings, presumably his family members.
Rav Yigal Ariel, in his Oz
Va-anava (pp. 212-3), thus
explains that Yiftach in fact had his family in mind when uttering this
vow. In an attempt to exude piety
and selfless devotion to God and to Am Yisrael, Yiftach proclaimed as he left for battle
that he is prepared to sacrifice as an offering the first family member that
greets him upon his return. This
proclamation, however, according to Rav Ariel's understanding, was made
disingenuously. Yiftach never had
any intention of sacrificing a family member; he assumed that everybody would
learn of his vow and thus ensure not to leave the home to greet him as he
returned from battle. The vow was
uttered purely as a tactical exhibition of piety, and not as a sincere but
misplaced act of devotion.
Tragically, Yiftach's daughter was unaware of her father's proclamation,
and (as we discussed yesterday) Yiftach felt unable or unwilling to seek the
annulment of his vow.
Rav Moshe Hattin (http://vbm-torah.org/archive/shoftim65/09shoftim.htm) likewise suggested that Yiftach refers to
a human being, rather than an animal, but develops a much different theory. The introductory verse to this section
(Shoftim 11:6) tells of Benei
Yisrael's abandonment of their
spiritual heritage and embrace of numerous foreign modes of worship. And although they responded to the
Amonite persecution by discarding their foreign deities (11:16), it is
nevertheless likely that many values and mores of the surrounding nations were
still part of their mindset and routine.
Rav Hattin suggests that Yiftach actually intended all along to offer a
human sacrifice a ritual that was indeed common among the ancient pagans. He did not, however, intend that his
"sacrifice" would be his daughter.
He had assumed that a clan member, distant relative, servant or casual
visitor would be the first to greet him upon his return from battle, and did not
figure that it might be his daughter.
Yiftach reacted with horror upon seeing his daughter because he had
intended on designating as the human sacrifice some other individual, and not
his own family member.
In any event, according to this theory, the story of Yiftach's vow
demonstrates the extent to which pagan culture had become entrenched among
Benei Yisrael that even after their rejection of
paganism, their leader still deemed it an act of piety and devotion to offer a
human sacrifice.
******
The opening verses of the haftara for Parashat Chukat (Shoftim 11:1-33)
introduce us to Yiftach, the man who would deliver Benei Yisrael from the oppression they suffered at the
hands of the neighboring
His status underwent a drastic change, however, once the leaders of the
Gilad region searched for a legitimate candidate for the job of leading
Benei Yisrael's campaign against Amon. Recognizing Yiftach's military talents,
the leaders of Gilad sent for Yiftach inviting him to come and take the reins of
leadership. What ensues is an
ambiguous exchange between Yiftach and the elders of Gilad, in which it appears
at first glance that neither party listens or responds to the other. Yiftach initially questions why the
Giladites suddenly seek his leadership after having banished him, to which they
respond, "We have now returned to you, and you shall accompany us and wage
battle against the Amonites, and you shall be for us a leader, for all residents
of Gilad" (11:8). Yiftach replies,
somewhat unintelligibly, "If you bring me back to wage battle against the
Amonites, and the Lord places them before me, I shall be for you a leader." It appears that Yiftach hinges his
acceptance of the invitation on his victory over Amon. This condition, of course, is inherently
illogical, as he cannot know the outcome of the campaign until he undertakes
this mission. The elders of Gilad
respond with a simple expression of consent ("The Lord shall be witness between
us, that we shall do as you say" 11:10), but it is entirely unclear to what
they give their consent.
Malbim explains these verses in characteristic fashion, by drawing a
careful distinction between two seemingly synonymous terms used in this exchange
katzin and rosh.
The Giladites initially invite Yiftach to serve as a katzin ("commander"), a term which, according to
Malbim, refers to a military position that entails no distinction or leadership
status. Malbim associates the word
katzin with the Hebrew term katzeh, or "edge," and thus interprets katzin as a skilled warrior who leads the army
along the front line during combat.
The elders of Gilad thus did not invite Yiftach to lead them, but rather
to serve as the front-line combatant that they desperately needed as they
prepared for battle against their bitter foes.
This explains the resentment Yiftach expresses in his response to the
invitation. They had mistreated and
banished him, and now they seek his assistance in performing a thankless task in
their time of trouble.
The Giladites therefore reply by offering him a position of leadership:
"you shall accompany us and wage battle against the Amonites, and you shall be
for us a leader
" They assure him
that a successful campaign against Amon will afford Yifrach heroic status and
thus a position of "rosh" as the political head of Gilad. As Yiftach realizes, however, the
Giladites here express no remorse for the disdain and rejection they displayed
towards him in the past, and do not really offer him a position of
leadership. They merely invite him
to wage battle which offers him the potential to earn leadership naturally by
securing a victory. He thus
responds, "If you bring me back to wage battle against the Amonites, and the
Lord places them before me, I shall be for you a leader" meaning, if he leads
them to victory, he will assume a high position naturally, and not due to their
invitation.
The Giladites therefore consent to formally appoint Yiftach as the
regional head immediately upon his arrival, unconditionally, thus making amends
for the degradation to which they had subjected him previously. Indeed, we are told that when Yiftach
arrived in Gilad he was named both a rosh and a katzin political leader, and front-line
combatant.
According to Malbim, it appears, this entire exchange is recorded in
order to emphasize that Yiftach's acceptance of the Giladites' invitation was
motivated purely out of his desire for authority and leadership. It was only after securing their
guarantee to unconditionally appoint him leader that he agreed to stand at the
head of the military campaign against Amon. That the Almighty granted Benei Yisrael victory under Yiftach's leadership
underscores His ability and willingness to bring salvation from places where we
would least expect it, and how even petty political machinations and
maneuverings are somehow woven into God's master plan for delivering His
nation.
******
As we have discussed in our previous installments, the haftara for Parashat Chukat is taken from the Book of Shoftim (chapter 11) and tells the story of Yiftach, who led Benei Yisrael to victory over the enemy nation of Amon. The otherwise festive story of Yiftach's triumph over Amon ends with the tragedy that resulted from the vow he rashly made before battle, promising to offer to God "the first that leaves the doors of my home to greet me" (Shoftim 11:31). Much to Yiftach's horror, it was his own daughter who first came to welcome him upon his return, and he was thus compelled to offer her to God. (According to some sources he actually sacrificed her, whereas others maintain that she never married.)
The Midrash Tanchuma (end of Parashat Bechukotai) speaks about Yiftach in reference to the principle, "If a person is righteous but although he is righteous he does not involve himself in Torah he has nothing." According to the Tanchuma, Yiftach serves as a prototypical example of such a person: "You similarly find regarding Yiftach the Giladite: because he was not a ben Torah, he lost his daughter." The Midrash proceeds to discuss at length the tragic story of Yiftach's vow, emphasizing the foolishness of the vow itself ("Had a dog, swine or camel left his house, would he have offered it before Me?") as well as Yiftach's refusal to consult with Pinchas, the religious leader of the time, to annul the vow. Additionally, the Midrash tells of the cogent arguments made by Yiftach's daughter as she pleaded with her father not to follow through on his promise, citing numerous indications that God never encourages or permits human sacrifice. Tragically, Yiftach dismissed all her arguments.
How precisely are we to understand the Midrash's characterization of Yiftach and the message it conveys?
The Midrash appears to characterize Yiftach as a man of misinformed piety. He can rightfully be described as a tzadik (the term used here by the Midrash) in the sense that he felt a sense of duty and devotion to the Almighty. However, as he was unlearned, he did not express that sense of duty and devotion in accordance with the Torah. He was unaware of the kind of piety demanded and/or encouraged by the Torah, and therefore came up with his own ideas of how to express his spiritual feelings. His series of mistakes began with his ambiguous vow, continued with his stubborn insistence on the vow's irreversibility, and culminated with his rejection of his daughter's arguments against human sacrifice all of which demonstrated his sheer ignorance of Torah law and values. Due to his ignorance, his attempt at piety and sacrifice to God resulted in a gross violation of one of the Torah's must fundamental precepts, the sanctity of human life.
"Ve-lo am ha-aretz chasid" ("and an ignoramus cannot be a pious man" Avot 2:4). Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky explained (Emet Le-Yaakov, end of Seder Nezikin) that the term chasid refers to a person who fulfills not only God's commands, but also His will (retzon Hashem, as opposed to tzivuy Hashem). He suggests an analogy to a father who normally enjoys drinking beer, but on one occasion asks that his son bring him a glass of water. The son knows that his father normally asks for beer, and requested water only because there was no beer in the home and he did not want the son to have to exert himself to go purchase beer. If the son wants to fulfill the father's command, he brings him water; if he seeks to fulfill his father's will, he runs to find him beer. If, however, the son is unaware of his father's preferences, then he must not deviate at all from the father's instruction; otherwise, he may end up bringing him a drink that the father does not like.
Similarly, Rav Yaakov explained, if a person seeks to serve the Almighty at the level of chasidut, at a standard of piety beyond the basic level of Torah observance, then he must know and understand what God truly wants of us. This is obviously impossible unless a person has studied God's "preferences," so-to-speak, by spending significant amounts of time engrossed in Torah learning.
This is how the Midrash Tanchuma characterized Yiftach. He sought to be a chasid, to serve God with great devotion and sacrifice, but he never bothered to learn how this is to be done. As the Midrash comments, " because he was not a ben Torah, he lost his daughter." Piety requires knowledge; without knowledge, piety is foolishness, at best, and, at worse, it can result in the gravest of crimes.