The Misoninim Mysteries: An Understanding Based on the Torah of the Maharal and the Ketzos HaChoshen

 

The Misoninim Mysteries: An Understanding Based on the Torah of the Maharal and the Ketzos HaChoshen

The Mysteries

The parsha of the Misoninim (Bamidbar 11) may superficially seem straightforward but on reflection, there are a number of puzzling aspects that beg for explanation. First of all, what was their primary complaint? Did they want meat? If so, what was the point of mentioning the vegetables that they ate in Egypt? Were they tired of the mon? Then why mention meat, any “real” food should have served their purpose? And why (posuk 7) did they seemingly speak in complimentary terms about the mon?

Why does the Torah tell us (posuk 4) that they “had a lust”; what does that add to the stated complaint of “we want meat!”? Why (posuk 10) do they add their resentment of the newly forbidden marital relationships to their litany of complaints; what does that have to do with either a hankering for meat or the “monotony” of the mon? One might say that they were complaining for complaining’s own sake, so there is no relationship between the complaints, but that seems superficial.

Finally, the quail that they were provided was immediately fatal; the moment they sunk their teeth into it, they died. How, then, did so many people die from eating it? Didn’t people watching the first quail-eaters die realize that they might be better off avoiding it?

Surely there is depth to be mined beneath the surface here.

The Benefits of a Coercive Matan Torah

To solve these mysteries – and to understand this parsha – we turn to the introduction to Sefer Shev Shmaitso, by the Ketzos, who has a unique and unifying understanding of the parsha of the Misoninim based on the Torah of the Maharal.

It all begins at Sinai. Recall that, per the Medrash (Tanchuma, Noach 3) before the Torah was given to Yisroel, Hashem lifted the mountain over their heads like a barrel, har k’gigis, and told them that if they did not accept the Torah, “this will be your burial place”. Of course the question is, since the nation had already willingly accepted the Torah (naaseh v’nishma; we will observe and we will understand) why was this coercive measure necessary?

The Maharal in Tiferes Yisroel 32 answers by pointing out that things that are imperative are permanent. This is why, for example, a me’anes is bound to his victim, the anusa, for life; he forced himself upon her (imperative) and therefore the relationship becomes permanent. The Maharal cites a Medrash that explains that the coercion at Sinai metaphorically creates an unbreakable me’anes-anusa-type relationship between Hashem and Yisroel; the Sinai covenant is permanent and, come what may, neither party can back out of it. Naaseh v’nishma was a discretionary acceptance of the Torah and therefore, despite its merits, it would not have been permanently binding.

The Ketzos notes that this bond extends to the relationship between Yisroel and the Torah as well. We must study Torah; it is imperative and not optional; permanent and not transitory. He cites Yalkut Re’uveini (Vayishlach) that the Sar of the Torah, the angel in charge of the Torah, was tasked with mon production. What does the mon have to do with the Torah? The Sefer HaMagid of the Bais Yosef states that the mon had the effect of nullifying free choice and making it impossible for those eating it to occupy themselves with anything other than the Torah. Their physical appetites disappeared; their only passion was for Torah study.

Appetites for Appetites

This, then, was behind the primary complaint of the Misoninim. They wanted their physical appetites back; they “had a lust’ for their dormant physical lusts! This business of mandatory Torah-study-only wasn’t for them. They yearned for the ability to enjoy a steak again; they remembered that in Egypt they were even able to enjoy vegetables!

In short, they wanted the discretionary Torah of naaseh v’nishma only, the imperative nature of the har k’gigis coercion wasn’t letting them enjoy the physical pleasures of life. However, they sugar-coated their complaints by arguing that it was more meritorious to operate on a free choice basis than to be boxed in to Torah. We would eat the mon without being forced to, they argued; after all, it’s appealing and tasty. We would study Torah too – when we wanted to. But we want our physical appetites back!

They were way out of line. The role of that generation was to immerse themselves totally in Torah study. Har k’gigis was supposed to have a dramatic effect on their way of life during their desert sojourn and the mon was an integral part of creating that way of life.

Their punishment, writes the Ketzos, was that they got their physical cravings back with a vengeance. They knew, after the first few moments, that eating the quail was a death sentence. Yet their appetites were so strong that they were compelled to gorge themselves nonetheless!

Forbidden Marital Relationships and Har K’Gigis

This approach solves most of the Misoninim mysteries we mentioned. How, though, does their resentment of the newly forbidden marital relationships fit into this picture? The Ketzos answers this by referencing a question of the Maharal in Gur Aryeh (Vayigash). The Maharal notes that when the Torah was given, the entire nation had the status of converts to Judaism. If so, the Maharal asks, why is it that the forbidden marital relationships affected this generation? We know that a convert has the status of a newborn and his previous familial relationships are cancelled. A convert may even marry his birth-sister since the conversion nullifies the brother-sister relationship. So why were the Misoninim complaining about these forbidden relationships in the first place?

The answer, says the Maharal, is that a convert only has the status of a newborn when the conversion was done willingly. However, the conversion of the nation at Sinai was transformed into a coerced conversion when the mountain was held over their heads. Therefore their previous familial relationships were not nullified and the prohibitions applied.

If the Torah had been given on the basis of naaseh v’nishma only there would have been no practical application of the Torah laws prohibiting certain marital relationships for that generation. The “culprit” preventing that from happening was the coercive nature of their conversion brought about by the threat of har k’gigis. We now understand how this particular complaint fits into the Misoninim’s broader picture. They were bothered by all the ramifications of har k’gigis versus naaseh v’nishma, and this was one of them.

The Implications for Us, Today

Our generation does not have mon and our therefore our physical appetites are restored. We can choose to favor them, but the mon remains in our genes forever and we retain the ability to attenuate our physical desires and to choose to single-mindedly devote ourselves to the pursuit of Torah and mitzvos, just as our ancestors did in the desert.

The Ketzos adds a sobering thought. Our physical and spiritual components were implanted in us as separate entities and were “designed” to stay that way. When we leave this world our soul should be heading upwards, unimpeded and unsullied by the body, while the body reposes in the earth, disconnected from the soul.

To the extent that we humor our physical component by indulging ourselves in physical pleasures, we pollute our spiritual component by intermingling it with our bodies. The separation at death is more difficult and more painful and our souls actually retain the pollution of the physical desires we indulged in during our lives.

The Torah tells us (verse 34) “He named that place Kivros Hata'avah (Graves of Craving), for there they buried the people who crave.” Note the present tense: “who crave”. They were dead and buried, surely it would have been more accurate to say, in the past tense, “the people who craved”? But the Ketzos quotes the Akeida who writes that even after their death, their souls continue to crave since they were polluted by the body’s craving when they were connected. Sobering indeed!

May we all merit to take full advantage of the permanence Hashem blessed us with when he imposed har k’gigis, by focusing our lives around Torah and by minimizing physical world indulgences.