By: Yosef Ciner

This weeks parsha, Chukas, begins with the laws of Parah Adumah, the red heifer. This is the purification process that one must go through after having come in contact with a dead body.

“Zos chukas haTorah- this is the ‘chok’ of the Torah (19:2).” A ‘chok’ is a mitzva whose meaning has not been revealed to us. Why is this referred to as the ‘chok’ of the Torah, as opposed to referring to it as a ‘chok’ of either impurity or purity laws?

There is another seeming contradiction that we find. As a ‘chok’, the true meaning of this mitzva is inaccessible to us. Yet, Rashi (19:22) quotes from the medrash that the parah adumah atones for the ‘chet ha’egel’, the sin of the golden calf. “It can be compared to a child of a maidservant who dirtied the palace of the king. The mother is commanded to come and clean the dirt of the child. So too, let the parah (the mother) clean the dirt of the egel (the child).” Rashi then, with painstaking detail, shows how every aspect of the parah adumah process is connected to the ‘chet ha’egel’.

How can it be the ‘chok’ and then be explained in greater detail than most mitzvos?!

The Beis HaLevi explains that it is called the ‘chok’ of the Torah because it sheds light and perspective on the whole Torah. We often think that we have a good understanding of certain mitzvos. This, dangerously, leads us to decisions of when and to what degree must we observe certain mitzvos in certain situations. “The ‘distancing’ laws of niddah are necessary for people who don’t have so much self control, whereas my wife and I …”, and other such gibberish.

“Zos chukas haTorah!”, the Torah shouts out! Do you have an understanding of parah adumah? Was even King Solomon, the wisest of all men, able to fathom how its contact purifies those who are impure, at the same time that it defiles those who are pure!?!? All of the mitzvos are interconnected. Without a clear grasp of them all, one cannot have a clear grasp on even one of them. “Zos chukas haTorah!” Yes, of the whole Torah! Because this reveals and demonstrates to us that the whole Torah must be adhered to as we would adhere to a ‘chok’.

With this, the Beis HaLevi explains how this ‘chok’ atones for the ‘chet ha’egel’. We’ve discussed back in Shmos that the root cause of the ‘chet ha’egel’ was an unbridled, free-lance quest for spirituality. I’ll draw close to Hashem my way.

They wanted to construct a dwelling where the Shechinah, the Divine Presence, would rest in this world. This was a truly noble desire, as was validated by the subsequent command to build the Mishkan. However, with the giving of the Torah, Hashem instructed us how to enhance spirituality. Any other means ends up being counterproductive.

This realization drawn from parah adumah, that full understanding of the entire Torah is beyond our grasp, serves to correct, and thereby atone for, the sin prompted by our mistakenly applying our limited understanding of the Torah. In that way, the epitome of the ‘chok’ clearly connects to and atones for the specific act of the ‘chet ha’egel’.

Our parsha also contains the sin of Moshe and Aharon which provoked the decree of their not entering Eretz Yisroel. “Kach es hamateh”, (take the staff) … and speak to the stone… “v’nasan maymav”, (and it will give its water) and you will bring out for them water from the stone. And Moshe took “hamateh” (the staff) from before Hashem, as he was commanded. And Moshe and Aharon gathered the congregation before the stone. “Vayarem Moshe es yado”, (and Moshe lifted his hand) and hit the stone twice “b’matehu” (with his staff), and brought out much water (20:8-10).

Rashi explains that the sin was hitting the stone as opposed to speaking to it. There are many varying explanations offered (the Ohr HaChaim brings 10 and then his own!) but most begin with the same questions: 1) Why was Moshe commanded to take the staff if he was supposed to speak to, and not hit, the stone? 2) Why is there the seeming redundancy of “v’nasan maymav” (and it will give its water) and then “you will bring out water from the stone”? 3) Why was Aharon punished for Moshe’s error of hitting the stone?

The Kli Yakar offers a beautiful explanation. He begins by quoting the Chizkuny that Moshe was commanded to take, not his own staff but rather, the staff of Aharon. That staff which had been placed before Hashem along with the staffs of the other tribes. Only Aharon’s staff had blossomed, flowered and grew almonds. After Moshe had shown this to all of the tribes, clearly showing that Aharon’s tribe was ‘chosen’, his staff was returned to the Ohel Moed where it stood as a lasting testimony.

The fact that the pasukim refer to this as the staff, not your staff, and that it was “before Hashem” indicate that Moshe was, in fact, commanded to take this staff of Aharon and not his own.

This was a dry piece of wood without any moisture, yet, miraculously, things began to grow from it. Hashem’s decree brought water from a parched, arid piece of wood. Moshe was commanded to take this staff to show that, in the same way, Hashem could decree that the rock should stream forth water.

This is what the pasuk meant by “speak to the stone v’nasan maymav”. Moshe and Aharon were commanded to speak to the stone and tell it the words “v’nasan maymav”! “And it gave its water!” Hey stone… do the same thing as the staff! Upon saying that, Moshe would be drawing water forth from the stone. The staff was brought to demonstrate what had previously happened, not for any hitting to be done! This is alluded to by the fact that “selah”, stone, and “etz”, stick, have the same numerical value!

Moshe erred and hit the stone with “matehu”, with his staff. Why was this such a tremendous sin?

By krias Yam Suf, the splitting of the sea, Hashem told Moshe “hareim es matecha, un’tay es yadecha”. This is usually explained as lift your staff and extend your hand. However, the Kli Yakar explains ‘hareim’ to mean, not lift but rather, remove the staff. Bnei Yisroel entertained thoughts that it was this ‘magical’ staff that had brought the plagues onto Egypt. In order to dispel any such doubts, Moshe was told to remove the stick, drop it! and split the sea by extending just your arm.

Now, many years after krias Yam Suf, the new generation was having the same doubts. Here was Moshe’s chance to show them that Hashem’s powers aren’t bound by any staff. However, here he did the opposite of what he had done by krias Yam Suf! “Vayarem Moshe es yado vayach es hasela!” Moshe removed (didn’t use) his hand and instead hit the stone with his alleged magical staff! A double error was committed. Had they spoken to the stone, its adherence to their words would have caused a tremendous kiddush Hashem.

Bnei Yisroel would have understood that if this stone that doesn’t speak, doesn’t hear and doesn’t need sustenance, fulfills the words of its Creator, certainly we must. Not only didn’t they speak and thereby strengthen Bnei Yisroel’s faith, Moshe hit it with his staff, weakening the faith in Hashem and substantiating their theory of a magical staff.

There are many who say that in Neveh Zion we have a magical staff (sorry). However, the truth is that there are vibrant wellsprings of Torah within seemingly dry individuals. May we merit to find, channel and enhance these fountains of potential and growth.

(Torah.org)

By: Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky

Crime and Punishment. In a corporeal world, the correlation of a jail sentence to a crime does not symbolize a cogent philosophical message. Of course, it may tell us that crime does not pay. Unfortunately, that comprehensive message does not differentiate between one who steals to sustain his family, and the greedy scam-artist who bilks widows out of their life’s savings. The two felons may sit only a few cells apart from each other, with an arsonist or barroom brawler separating them, but the crimes that sent them to their dismal abodes are so very different in intent.

Divine justice does better. Every aveirah generates a punishment specifically designed to send a distinct Heavenly message to the afflicted. Of course, it may take an otherwise perspicacious mind to correlate what life is handing to him and how it relates to his mortal misdeeds. We do not always relate events that occur to the acts we have perpetrated. Sometimes it is too much for us to bear, and sometimes our ideas may lead us to wrongful conclusions, harming both our psyche and morale.

But when the Torah teaches us about crime and punishment we are more fortunate. The lessons of our past are now devoid of the guilt-ridden, depressive response we may have currently; rather they are moral springboard from which to bound to greater heights. And thus, when the Torah tells us of a clear crime and an immediate response, we have to transpose the relationship between the two to attain another moral lesson.

The people spoke against G-d and Moshe – “Why did you bring us up from Egypt to die in this wilderness, for there is no food and no water, and our soul is disgusted with the insubstantial food [Manna]?” G-d sent the fiery serpents against the people and they bit the people. A large multitude of Israel died. The people came to Moshe and said, “We have sinned, for we have spoken against Hashem and against you! Pray to Hashem that He remove from us the serpent” (Numbers,21:5-7). The people complained about their fare, and were punished with snakes. If Divine retribution is corollary to the crime, how do snakes correspond to kvetching?

Rashi quotes the Midrash Tanchuma. “Hashem said as it were – let the serpent which was punished

for slanderous statements come and exact punishment from those who utter slander; Let the serpent to which all kinds of food have one taste [that of earth; cf (Gen:3:14) and (Yoma: 75a)] come and exact punishment from these ingrates to whom one thing (the manna) had the taste of many different dainties.

What was the slander of the snake? Didn’t he just convince Chava to take a bite of the fruit? What connection is there with the Manna? The old Jewish yarn has a Bubby (grandmother) taking her grandchild, little Irving, to the beach toward the end of spring. There is hardly anyone around as the child, dressed in a spring suit, plays innocently on the shore. Suddenly a wave breaks and sweeps him into the vast ocean. The grandmother, who cannot swim, yells toward the deserted beach, “Someone! Please save my Irving! Please! Anybody!”

Out of nowhere, a man charges forward, dives into the ocean and swims valiantly toward the helpless child. Moments later he is holding the gasping child aloft, while his weeping grandmother dashes toward them. She whisks the child from the man, and looks over the child making sure he is still in one piece.

Then she turns to the man, nods her head slightly and parts her otherwise pursed lips. “He was wearing a hat.”

In Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden, life was blissful. Adam and Chava had all they could have wanted, except for one type of fruit — The Eitz Hada’as, The Fruit of Knowledge. It was the snake that taught his human cohort, the concept of total self-indulgence, rendering them powerless to say, “No!”

The desert dwellers did not fare much differently. Their celestial fare adapted to almost any flavor in the world. Water flowed freely from the rock. But they were not content. They wanted more. The unfulfilled flavors that the Manna refused to replicate were on their minds. They felt that Manna was only a mere simulacrum of the luscious cuisine that they desired. Their craving for everything, manifested itself in punishment through the animal that has his most favored fare, anytime anywhere — the snake. To a snake, all dust is desirous!

When the Jewish nation were both led and fed, through a hostile environment, yet complained that their miraculous bread is insubstantial, then the only correlation, powerful enough to make them mend their thoughtless ways was the bite of the very being who gains no enjoyment from what he bites, while having all he desires.

Our goal in life is to revel in the blessing, rejoice in all the good that we have, despite the shortcomings of a limited world, and the trivial amenities we may lack. One must learn to appreciate his head, even if he is missing his hat. (Torah.org)

Dedicated in memory of Joseph Heller by Beth and Ben Heller and Family L’iluy Nishmas Reb Yoel Nosson ben Reb Chaim HaLevi Heller — 9 Tamuz

By: Shlomo Katz

In this week’s parashah, we read how Bilam tried to curse Bnei Yisrael. Pirkei Avot (ch.5) teaches that evil-doers like Bilam do not live out “half their days,” as the verse (Tehilim 55:24), “Men of bloodshed and deceit shall not live out half their days.” We also find that our Sages refer to old age as “length of days.” Sometimes, a tzaddik’s life is referred to as “days,” while the evil-doer’s life is referred to as “years,” as in Mishlei (10:27), “Fear of G-d will add days, while the years of the wicked will be shortened.” Why do we speak of “days” rather than “years” when discussing the length of a person’s life, especially a tzaddik’s life?

R’ Menachem Simcha Katz shlita (Brooklyn, N.Y.) explains: The Gemara (Shabbat 153a) instructs man to repent one day before he dies. The Gemara asks: Does a person know when he will die? No! Therefore, concludes the Gemara, one should repent every day.

It follows, R’ Katz writes, that the value of a person’s years depends on what he did with his days. A person who repents every day gives meaning to his years. At the end of his life, he has “length of days”–a valuable collection of “days.” In contrast, the wicked don’t use their days to repent; their years are shortened and they lack “days.” [Thus, they do not live out “half their days.”]

R’ Katz adds in the name of the Chafetz Chaim z”l: A person must always imagine that he has only one day left, that whatever mitzvah is before him is only one mitzvah that needs to be done, and that he is the only person in the world. This will push him to perform the mitzvah with zerizut / alacrity.

(Simcha L’ish p.13)

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“Elokim came to Bilam and said, ‘Who are these men with you?’” (22:9)

Midrash Rabbah comments: Bilam should have answered, “All secrets are known to You, and You are asking me?!” Since he did not answer this–rather, he answered (verse 10), “Balak son of Tzippor, king of Moav, sent to me”–Hashem told him: “Since you spoke thus, you may not curse Bnei Yisrael.” [Until here from the midrash]

R’ Shmuel Shmelke Guntzler z”l (1834-1911; rabbi of Oyber-Visheve, Hungary for 45 years) asks: This midrash implies that, had Bilam answered properly, he would have been permitted to curse Bnei Yisrael! Can that possibly be true? He explains:

The Gemara (Mo’ed Katan 9b) relates that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai sent his son to two other sages to receive their blessing. When the son returned, he reported that they had cursed him, saying, in Aramaic, “May you sow and not reap, etc.” Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai explained to his son that they had, in fact, blessed him: “May you have children who won’t die young, etc.” (Commentaries explain that they wanted Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai to have to interpret the blessing so that it would be as if he had blessed his son also.) We learn from here, writes R’ Guntzler, that the speaker’s intentions take precedence over his actual words; even if the words sound like a curse, Hashem knows that they actually were meant to convey a blessing.

Balak promised to give Bilam great riches if Bilam cursed Bnei Yisrael. Had Bilam acknowledged that Hashem knows man’s thoughts, Bilam would have been permitted (as in the above story from the Gemara) to say words that Balak would have interpreted as curses, though Bilam would have meant them as blessings. However, because he did not acknowledge that Hashem knows man’s thoughts, Hashem told him: You may not curse at all.

(Meishiv Nefesh: Parashat Naso)

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“Elokim said to Bilam, ‘You shall not go with them [the Moabite emissaries]! You shall not curse the People, for it is blessed!’” (22:12)

Rashi z”l records the following conversation: Hashem said, “You shall not go with them.” Bilam asked, “If so, I will curse them in my own place.” Hashem said, “You shall not curse the People.” Bilam retorted, “If so, I will bless them.” Hashem replied, “They do not need your blessing, for they are already blessed.”

R’ David Halevi z”l (the “Taz”; 1586-1667) elaborates: Bilam and the Moabites had different goals. The Moabites merely wanted protection from Bnei Yisrael; they were not looking for Bnei Yisrael to be cursed for all time. Bilam, on the other hand, hated the Jewish People. Thus, when Hashem told Bilam, “You shall not go with them,” Bilam understood: Don’t curse Bnei Yisrael on the Moabites terms, i.e., don’t look for a current sin that will bring about Bnei Yisrael’s immediate downfall. Bilam therefore thought that he could curse Bnei Yisrael on his own terms, i.e., he would give them a curse that would be conditional on a future sin. Hashem answered: You may not curse at all. Bilam then said: Then I will give them a blessing that will be conditional on future good deeds–the implication being that they will be cursed if they do not perform good deeds. Hashem responded: No, they are already blessed.

(Divrei David)

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“He perceived no iniquity in Yaakov, and saw no perversity in Yisrael. Hashem his Elokim is with him, and the teruah / friendship of the King is in him.” (23:21)

R’ Amram Zvi Gruenwald z”l (dayan / rabbinical court judge in Oyber-Visheve, Hungary and rabbi of the Fernwald D.P. camp; died in Brooklyn in 1951) writes: We say in the Rosh Hashanah prayers, “Until the day of man’s death You will wait for him; if he repents, you accept him immediately.” The word “immediately” seems to be superfluous. Commentaries explain that not only does Hashem accept man’s repentance on his death bed, Hashem views it as if he had repented “immediately” after he sinned.

R’ Gruenwald continues: This is why Bilam said that Hashem perceives no iniquity or perversity in Bnei Yisrael, for what Jew does not repent as his day of death approaches?! The teruah–literally, shofar-blowing, an allusion to repentance–is with every Jew.

(Zichron Amram Zvi)

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“Bilam saw that it was good in Elokim’s eyes to bless Yisrael, so he did not go as every other time toward divinations, but he set his face toward the Wilderness.” (24:1)

R’ Eliezer David Gruenwald z”l (1867-1928; rabbi and rosh yeshiva in Oyber-Visheve, Hungary) writes: The Gemara (Eruvin 19a) teaches that there are three entrances to Gehinom: one at sea, one in the wilderness, and one in Yerushalayim. R’ Gruenwald explains: The Gemara is alluding to three reasons why people sin. Some people sin because of urges that they cannot control. Some sin because of bad character traits–for example, jealousy. Finally, some people sin because they keep bad company.

He continues: Someone who sins because of urges that he can’t control is more likely to sin against G-d–for example, by eating non-kosher food or participating in a prohibited relationship–rather than against man. For him, Gehinom is represented by the sea (see Yeshayah 57:20). On the other extreme, someone who sins because of a bad character trait–for example, jealousy–is more likely to sin against man, while he may observe mitzvot that are between himself and G-d–e.g., prayer, Shabbat and kashrut–perfectly. For him, Gehinom is represented by the wilderness because it is uninhabited, perfect for someone who lives as if he is the only person in the world. Finally, someone who sins because he keeps bad company is likely to commit both categories of sins. For him, Gehinom is represented by the big city, a place where one can find many influences.

In this light, our verse can be interpreted: Bilam saw that Elokim wanted to bless Yisrael because they were meticulous in observing their obligations toward Him, so he set his face toward the Wilderness, i.e., he looked for bad character traits among Bnei Yisrael.

(Keren L’David)

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Memoirs

R’ Yaakov Halevi Lifschutz z”l (1838-1921) was the long-time secretary to R’ Yitzchak Elchanan Spektor z”l (1817-1896; rabbi of Kovno), who was one of the leading halachic authorities of the second half of the 19th century as well as a spokesman and lobbyist for Russian Jewry in the Czar’s court. Through his position, R’ Lifschutz was a witness to, and a participant in, many important events of that era. His memoirs are entitled “Zichron Yaakov.”

He writes: If a person’s mind is narrowed when he lacks a pleasant dwelling and nice utensils (see Berachot 57b), certainly his mind will be narrowed if he lacks sefarim / books of Torah, wisdom and knowledge!

In our days, just as commerce in both necessities and luxuries has increased, so the sale of sefarim has proliferated. Just as people have increased their spending on household goods, so they have done for sefarim, which restore the soul and bring pleasure to the spirit. There are many printers now in Eretz Yisrael and the diaspora. Both old and new books are brought from near and far and sold cheaply. Bookstores are open everywhere, everyone buys, and knowledge proliferates.

How the world quaked because of the dispute between the Vilna printers and the Slavita printers in 5598 [1838]! It happened because the Vilna printers allegedly trespassed on the rights of the Slavita printers by printing sets of Talmud before the Slavita printers had sold out their printing. The Slavita printers had received letters from the great rabbis of the generation prohibiting anyone else from trespassing [by reprinting the Talmud before the Slavita edition sold out–a way of ensuring the printing’s financial viability].

Today, only 20 years have passed after that dispute, and a new era has begun: printers from Vilna and Zhitomir (the heirs to the Slavita press) print Talmud sets to their hearts’ content, while printers in Berlin, Vienna and Warsaw do the same. No one says, “The market is too small.” Before this new era, only unique individuals owned a Talmud, poskim / halachic works, Rishonim and Acharonim / early and later commentaries; except for the batei medrash, which had many books of Talmud, halachah, responsa, and also books of sermons and kabbalah. Books of Jewish thought such as Rambam’s Moreh Nevochim, the Kuzari, and the Ikkarim, used to be found one per city.

(Torah.org)