Saturday, January 4, 2020

Torah Wisdom Versus Secular Wisdom – As Seen by the Light of the Menorah: Adapted from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Chanukah Maamar 9)


Torah Wisdom Versus Secular Wisdom – As Seen by the Light of the Menorah: Adapted from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Chanukah Maamar 9)
Adapted By Eliakim Willner
Eliakim Willner is author of “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaTorah: An Appreciation of Torah Study”, a translation with commentary of a work by the Maharal of Prague, published by Artscroll/Mesorah. He is currently working on a continuation of the Nesivos Olam series, “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaAvodah: The Philosophy and Practice of Prayer”.


Section 1 – A seemingly unnecessary license
“Haneiros Halalu: These lights are sacred, so we are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them” (Sofrim 20:6, recited while lighting the Menorah.)
This statement contains two inferences, both of which are presented as consequences of the assertion that the Chanukah lights are holy: 1) making use of the Chanukah lights is prohibited, and 2) viewing the Chanukah lights is permitted. Now, it is clear how a prohibition against making use of the Chanukah lights follows as a result of their sanctity, in accordance with the general principle that one may not derive benefit from objects designated for sacred purposes, but how does the right to view the Chanukah lights follow as a result of their sanctity? It seems obvious that we may view the Chanukah lights because viewing does not constitute “use”, not because sanctity specifically implies a license to view. Why, then, does this statement, which speaks of the consequences of the sanctity of the Chanukah lights, mention that we are permitted to view them at all?
Section 2 – A Jewish “master of science”: no blessing
“Upon seeing a Jewish scholar one should recite the blessing, ‘Blessed are You... Who has apportioned from His wisdom to those who revere Him’. Upon seeing a non-Jewish scholar one should recite the blessing, ‘Blessed are You... Who has given of His wisdom to a flesh-and-blood being’” (A Braiso in Brachos 58a, cited in Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 224:6-7).
The difference in the wording of these two blessings is apparently based on a distinction between the two different forms of wisdom they deal with, since the focus of the Braiso is on why the phrase, “Who has apportioned from”, is appropriate to one who is versed in the wisdom of the Torah, while the phrase, “Who has given of”, is appropriate to one who is versed in the wisdom of the natural sciences. But the Braiso adds a stipulation that extends the criteria for each blessing beyond form of wisdom alone: the person versed in Torah wisdom must be Jewish, in order to create an obligation to recite the first blessing, and the person versed in the natural sciences must be non-Jewish, in order to create an obligation to recite the second blessing.
The reason for the first part of this stipulation is obvious: Torah wisdom, when embodied in a non-Jew, counts for nothing, and engenders no obligation at all, since the Torah describes itself as “an inheritance of the congregation of Yaakov” (Devarim 33:4. The phrase, “The congregation of Yaakov”, explicitly excludes non-Jews, as explained by the Gemara in Sanhedrin 59a). The second part of the stipulation, however - that natural sciences, when embodied in a Jew, also engender no obligation, and there are no grounds whatever for reciting a blessing in this case - is an astonishing revelation. In effect the Braiso is saying that despite the fact that the natural sciences, in and of themselves, generate an obligation to recite a blessing, if the person who has mastered those sciences happens to be Jewish, his identity disqualifies his knowledge from blessing! What are the underlying factors giving rise to this disqualification?
Section 3 – No definitive proofs in Torah study
Our quest for the answer to this question will yield a treasure trove in the form of a keen appreciation of the difference between Torah wisdom and secular wisdom. The key to the treasure trove lies in the words of the Ramban, in his introduction to Sefer HaMilchamos: “As every student of Torah knows, in our discipline there is no concept of definitive proof analogous to the procedural proofs of geometry or the empirical proofs of astronomy”. Let us clearly articulate the full implications of the statement that in the discipline of Torah study there is no concept of definitive proof, as there is in the other disciplines mentioned above.
Section 4 – The covenant of preservation and the covenant of origination
All the covenants mentioned in the Torah are without term, and remain in effect “eternally, forever and to the end of time” (netazch, selah vo’ed; a phrase borrowed from the Ahava Rabbah prayer). The Torah tells us this explicitly with respect to Noach’s covenant of the rainbow (Beraishis 9:8-17) and Avrohom’s covenant of circumcision (Beraishis 17). Different terminology is used, however, in describing the eternal nature of each of these two covenants. We are told that the covenant of the rainbow is eternal with the phrase l’doros olam, “for generations eternal”, while the phrase bris olam, “an eternal covenant” is used to inform us of the eternal nature of the circumcision covenant. To appreciate why the Torah makes this distinction we must again review a recurrent theme in our Bais Medrash, noting that even if we were to go over it one-hundred and one times, we would still not have plumbed its depths nor grasped its full extent.
“Behold, I have set before you today life [- if you follow the good course -] and death [- if you follow the bad course -] ... you should choose life” (Devarim 30:15-19).
Now, the Torah as a whole was imparted to the Jews and only to the Jews, so “...before you” must be directed at the Jewish people, to the exclusion of everyone else. And this is astounding. The ability to choose freely between good and bad - between life and death - does not belong solely to Jews. Just as Jews are able to exercise free choice with respect to their six-hundred and thirteen commandments, so are non-Jews able to exercise free choice with respect to their seven commandments, the seven Noachide laws. Thus the ability to choose between two alternatives is equally applicable to all of Noach’s descendants - to Jew and non-Jew alike. How, then, are we to understand the words of the verse, “I have set [free choice] before you” - which means before you and no one else?
We now describe an approach that will lead us to the correct interpretation of the verse.
The Torah conveys in detail how, prior to the events at Sinai, there was a dialogue between the Jewish nation and Hashem regarding whether or not the Jews would be willing to accept the obligations of the Torah and the commandments upon themselves (Shmos 19:1-8). We find no such exchange recorded in connection with the obligations of the seven Noachide laws. It is fair to conclude, then, that the Noachide laws were imposed independent of any desire for them or any consent to their imposition. In this the seven mitzvos differ from the six-hundred and thirteen, where the very fact that the obligations exist is built upon the foundation of the give-and-take that preceded their imposition. With respect to the six-hundred and thirteen, there were two available alternatives: to accept them, or not to accept them, as described in Shabbos 88a. There were no alternatives when the seven commandments were imposed.
The difference between the two modes of obligation-imposition is predicated on two fundamentally different states of mind. We can best understand this difference by considering, as an example, the contrast between the state of mind that functions to create a debt and the state of mind that functions to pay a debt. The state of mind that functions to create a debt is capable of originating something new - since, without an affirmative desire to create a debt, there is no debt. It is precisely the state of mind - this type of state of mind - which brings the obligation into existence. On the other hand, the state of mind that functions to pay a debt is merely going along with a situation not of its own making. It is possible, after all, to collect a debt from a person against his will and without his knowledge, so, even when a person willingly pays a debt, his mind is merely acknowledging the reality of a situation external to it. In no way can his mind be said to be originating a situation of payment.
This example illustrates that the state of mind at play when an obligation is created and the state of mind at play when an obligation is discharged involve two distinct aspects of the intellect. We will refer to them as the Originative Intellect and the Consentive Intellect. The distinction between these two forms of intellect is precisely what differentiates between the state of mind that functions in the realm of the seven Noachide laws and the state of mind that functions in the realm of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments.
The state of mind that functions in the realm of the seven Noachide laws represents the Consentive Intellect. It does no more than rubber-stamp a pre-existing situation, since the intellect played no role in originating the obligations of the seven Noachide laws - they were not conditioned on any prior dialogue between Hashem, who gave them, and mankind, upon whom they were imposed. The state of mind that functions in the realm of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments, however, represents the Originative Intellect, since it was only by virtue of the mind’s power that the imperatives and obligations of the commandments were put into place. They could not have come to be without a prior affirmative decision to accept the commandments.
To appreciate the full implications of the difference between these two forms of intellect we must reflect on how each conforms to the system of commandments to which it corresponds. Let us explain.
Our Sages teach (Kiddushin 39b), with respect to the six-hundred and thirteen commandments, that “there is not a single commandment in the Torah... whose effects are not felt during the era of the resuscitation of the dead”. The true reward for performing the commandments is not in this world, but in the world-to-come; the world after the dead are resuscitated. A Jew’s status in the world to come is determined by the extent and quality of his performance of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments, thus these commandments bring the universe into the era of the world-to-come, and shape its form. See Rambam, Hilchos Teshuva 9. Thus, the covenant of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments is the covenant of the world-to-come.
It is impossible, however, to advance the world into the era of the resuscitation of the dead through fulfillment of the seven Noachide laws. Hashem’s covenant with Noach guarantees only to preserve the status quo: there will never be a repeat of the flood, there will never be another world-wide purge; never again will the laws that maintain nature be suspended. The difference between the function of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments and that of the seven Noachide laws is that the six-hundred and thirteen bring into being a new world order based on life without death, whereas the seven Noachide laws serve merely to perpetuate the prevailing state of affairs.
This is how, as we said, each of the two forms of intellect conforms to the system of commandments to which it corresponds. Since the purpose of the six-hundred and thirteen is to establish a new world order, this system of commandments is contingent on the Originative Intellect and could not have been imposed without its involvement - without the involvement of the state of mind that creates a new state of affairs. But since the purpose of the seven Noachide laws is to preserve that which already exists, this system of commandments is not contingent on the Originative Intellect - the seven Noachide laws were not prefaced by an affirmative decision to accept them. These commandments are contingent rather on the Consentive Intellect, which comes into play after the commandments are imposed, since the only decision in the domain of the Consentive Intellect is whether or not to carry out an existing obligation after the fact of its imposition, not whether or not to be bound by the obligation in the first place. The opportunity to decide whether or not to accept the seven Noachide laws was never offered.
It should be obvious that the relationship between the system consisting of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments and the Originative Intellect applies not only to the covenant of Sinai - where the role of the Originative Intellect is explicit - but to every covenant associated with the Torah and its commandments. We speak here in terms of the covenant of Sinai since it is the starting point of all such covenants and thus serves as the paradigm for all subsequent, related covenants. Each of these covenants, in its own way, is a product of the Originative Intellect, and none of these covenants could have come to be without a prior affirmative decision to be bound by it, on the part of those destined to be bound by it. For, each of these covenants, in its own way, further cements the association, created at Sinai, between the Jewish nation and the Torah. And the basis of this association is the fact that, as noted earlier, “there is not a single commandment in the Torah whose effects are not felt during the era of the resuscitation of the dead”. The defining characteristic of the association between the Jewish nation and the Torah is the ability to originate the new world order of the era of the resuscitation of the dead and the world-to-come. It is therefore essential that the aspect of the intellect functioning in the realm of this association be originative, not merely acquiescent and consentive.
The upshot of the foregoing discussion is that there is a direct correspondence between a covenental bond and the aspect of the intellect that pertains to the bond. Since the distinctive feature of Noach’s seven-commandments bond is staving off destruction and preserving the status quo it pertains to the aspect of the intellect that deals with reactive decisions. This aspect of the intellect can react to the bond either by submitting to its demands and agreeing to carry them out, or by opposing its demands and failing to carry them out. But in no way can it be claimed, in this case, that the intellect engendered the bond, since the nature of the bond itself is merely preservative, not creative. The distinctive feature of the Jewish nation’s Torah bond, on the other hand, is to originate a new world order. So it pertains to the aspect of the intellect that deals with proactive decisions - the aspect of the intellect without which that covenental bond could not originally have come into existence.
This principle is a cornerstone of Jewish philosophical and ethical thought.
Now we are prepared to understand the simple meaning of the verse which proclaims, “Behold, I have set before you... the good... and the bad”. “Before you”. Specifically, “Before you” - the Jewish nation. We found this astounding; the ability to choose freely between good and evil is in no way limited to the Jewish nation. The correct interpretation of this verse, however, lies in what we are saying. The verse must be understood not as a reference to simple free choice but as an exhortation with accompanying explanation: the exhortation is in the form of a reminder of the exalted and awesome status attached to fulfillment of the Torah and its commandments (“life... death”). The explanation - the reason we are well-advised to heed the exhortation - is contained in the words, “I have set before you”. The verse does not refer to the alternatives of fulfilling the commandments on the one hand and violating them, on the other, as we might have thought. Rather, the reference is to the fact that the Torah and commandments themselves became binding as a result of an intellectual decision. In other words, the reference in the verse is to the initial choice set before the Jewish nation regarding whether or not to permit themselves to become bound by the Torah in the first place, not to a choice - after the Torah was accepted - regarding whether or not to fulfill already-binding commandments.
Entry into the covenant of the commandments was by way of an intellectual decision portending the entry. And since the covenant of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments was engendered by the intellect, fulfillment of those commandments must itself possess the power to engender a new world order based on a new set of premises and with new modes of thought. The verse is in effect saying, “Your actions have life-and-death repercussions in the new world order, because they stem from the Originative Intellect, with which you bound yourself to the Torah and commandments (I have set before you...). Be sure to act in a manner such that the repercussions are positive! (Choose life)”
This choice is truly, exclusively, before you - the Jewish nation. The intent is to explicitly exclude the covenental bond of Noach and the seven commandments, since only the covenental bond that originated through the intellect has the power to itself originate new modes of thought; to bring into existence the new modes of thought appropriate to the world-to-come. The covenant of the seven Noachide laws is powerless to bring into existence new modes of thought because it was imposed independent of the intellect.
As we said, this verse is an exhortation with accompanying explanation: “Behold, I have set before you today life and death; the good course and the bad course... you should choose life.”
The astute reader will appreciate how neatly the contrast between the physical manifestations of Noach’s and Avrohom’s covenants meshes with the distinction between Noach’s covenant, itself, and the Torah covenant, itself. The physical manifestation of Noach’s covenant is the rainbow (Beraishis 9:12); of Avrohom’s covenant, the rite of circumcision (Beraishis 17:11). Note that, as the Ramban explains, the rainbow was not specially created at the time the covenant of Noach was consummated, for the express purpose of serving as its symbol, but had been in existence since Creation. At the time of Noach’s covenant it was merely conscripted to symbolize that covenant. This fits beautifully with the substance of our present discussion.
The physical manifestations of the two covenants differ, in precisely the same manner as the covenants themselves differ in their essence. As we explained, the essential difference between the covenants is that Noach’s covenant represents no more than a preservation of the status quo, while Avrohom’s covenant represents an ongoing participation in the construction of a new world-in-formation (The reference is to the new world order of the world-to-come. The previous discussion related the Torah covenant to the formation of this new world order. However, Avrohom’s covenant laid the groundwork for the giving of the Torah to the Jewish nation, so it is considered a subsidiary of the Torah covenant even though it chronologically preceded it.). The difference between the two physical manifestations is along precisely the same lines. The physical manifestation of Noach’s covenant was borrowed from an existing aspect of creation - an aspect which was merely assigned the additional role of covenental symbol. But the physical manifestation of Avrohom’s covenant is the recasting of man into a new form, via circumcision.
In fact, this distinction between the covenant of Noach and that of Avrohom is not only apparent in each covenant’s physical manifestation, it is also explicit in the terminology used by the Torah to describe the respective covenants. The phrase “for generations eternal” is used to describe Noach’s covenant, while “an eternal covenant” is used with respect to Avrohom’s covenant. The word “generations” was deliberately omitted from the description of Avrohom’s covenant because of the originative nature of Avrohom’s covenant.
Noach’s covenant is a preservation of the status quo. It originates nothing and invokes no change in the world’s operation, so every generation relates to it in the same way. The status quo is either preserved or it is not; Noach’s covenant guarantees that it is, for all generations, so each generation has the same “degree” of status quo preservation. The phrase, “for generations eternal”, is appropriate to such a covenant, since the covenant functions on the identical level for each generation. The essence of Avrohom’s covenant, however, is the promise that, through the Jewish nation’s fulfillment of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments of the Torah, a new world order will be created. It is possible, therefore, for this covenant to function on different levels. At times, the full potency of this covenant’s promise is evident; at times, it is concealed. There are epochs of redemption; there are epochs of exile. There are various degrees of exile; there are various degrees of redemption. Different generations relate to the covenant of Avrohom in different ways.
Since by definition the process of creation is dynamic, it need not and does not function at the same level of intensity at all times. But status quo preservation is static; the status quo is an already-quantified entity and preserving it is a matter of preserving a steady state. Thus, the word “generations” was left out of the description of Avrohom’s covenant. It is described in terms of “an eternal covenant” to indicate that this covenant relates generally to the universe, but not individually to each generation. Avrohom’s covenant can only be referred to as “an eternal covenant”.
Section 5 – No definitive proofs: the Torah’s pride and glory
The stage has now been properly set for us to appreciate the full implications of the Ramban’s statement that, in the discipline of Torah study, there is no concept of definitive proof analogous to the procedural proofs of geometry or the empirical proofs of astronomy. This statement does not reflect, as might be thought, a shortcoming in the discipline of Torah study, requiring us to rationalize the absence of the sort of clear-cut evidence, and the conclusive demonstrations of fact, that the device of definitive proof permits to practitioners of disciplines like geometry and astronomy. Not at all; in fact, the most remarkable feature of the discipline of Torah study - its pride and glory - is the very absence of the concept of definitive proof from within its domain!
Let us explain. The distinction between the covenant of Noach and the covenant of Avrohom is brought into sharpest relief in the area of the disciplines of inquiry associated with each covenant - the discipline that deals with reality as viewed through the covenant-of-Noach lens, versus the discipline that deals with reality as viewed through the covenant-of-Avrohom lens. Noach’s covenant guarantees the continuity, as-is, of that which already exists. The discipline of inquiry associated with this facet of reality thus focuses on intellectually comprehending, to the extent possible, the as-is state of the universe. The covenant of Avrohom, on the other hand, deals not with preservation, but with the origination of a new world order. Thus, correspondingly, the discipline of inquiry associated with this covenant deals not with delving into the status quo but with exploring the ways and means of going about the process of originating the new reality that will fructify in the world-to-come, and with attempting to understand the forces at play in this process of origination.
Here we have zeroed in on the crux of “definitive proof” and its application. The character of every discipline’s definitive proof derives from the nature of the reality that the discipline deals with and explores. Each discipline deals with reality from a different angle, and on that basis each discipline gives rise to a specifically applicable proof-system. But all this applies only to disciplines that deal with the here-and-now. The entire concept of definitive proof is alien to the discipline of Torah study, which is distinguished in that it deals with the origination of a future world, and not with the here-and-now. The only “definitive proof”-type test the discipline of Torah study will ultimately be subject to awaits the as-yet nebulous world-to-come. But for the time being, it is impossible for the discipline of Torah study to employ the construct of definitive proof.
This inability, as we said, is its pride and glory. To grant that it is possible for the discipline of Torah study to employ the construct of definitive proof would be to relegate Torah study to the mere status of a discipline that investigates reality, rather than a discipline that originates reality. And the notion that the discipline of Torah study might actually fit into the role of an investigative discipline is a logical impossibility. In the same way it is impossible for the physical representation of the covenant guaranteeing the epoch of the world-to-come to be a rainbow, so, exactly, is it impossible for the construct of definitive proof to exist in the realm of the discipline of Torah study. We cannot symbolize a covenant whose reason for existence is the origination of a new world order, using an existing device, borrowed from the old world order, since this would contradict and thus subvert the very function the covenant is designed to perform.
Section 6 – A Jew masters science: wisdom misplaced
We have reached the point where we may return to, and fully appreciate, the significance of the momentous halachic ruling we spoke of in Section 2: Despite the fact that the presence of the natural sciences, in and of itself, generates an obligation to recite a blessing, if the person who has mastered those sciences happens to be Jewish, his identity disqualifies his knowledge from blessing. We will explain the underlying cause of this disqualification with an example.
There is a restriction that applies to the “spices” blessing, which was enacted to be recited upon encountering a pleasant fragrance: the blessing is recited only in the event that the spices are specifically designated for the purpose of providing olfactory pleasure. If the spices are not specifically designated for that purpose, then no blessing is recited, even if the spices do in fact emit a pleasurable aroma (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 217:2-3). Sensing a pleasant aroma does not generate a blessing obligation unless the aroma emanates from a source whose purpose it is to smell pleasant. The blessing obligation is engendered not by the pleasant aroma per se, but rather by its source’s specific designation for aroma production.
A pleasant aroma that emanates from a source not specifically designated for that purpose is considered incidental. Blessings are required only when the characteristic of the source object that pertains to the blessing is essential. Characteristics that are incidental are not deemed sufficiently significant to require a blessing.
So much for our example. Now, the same principle we saw in connection with aromas, also applies with respect to manifestations of wisdom. The intellect of a Jew is specifically designated for the discipline that creates a new world order - for the study of Torah. If, instead, wisdom dealing with investigating the status quo emanates from a Jewish intellect, it is a case of wisdom misplaced. That form of wisdom, in that intellect, is not essential but incidental. And we have already established the principle that incidental characteristics are not sufficiently significant to require a blessing! It is exactly as if a Jew were to accept a creed based on a belief that there will be no repetition of the flood, instead of on a belief in resuscitation of the dead, and attempted to fulfill his religious obligations through the covenant of the rainbow instead of through the covenant of circumcision.
Section 7 – Relating to a source versus relating to a consequence
.rut vtrb lrutc ohhj ruen lng hf “For the source of life is in Your domain; with Your light, we see light (Tehillim 36:10).” Let us attentively reflect on the fundamental message of this pronouncement. It is possible to perceive light in two different ways - either by seeing objects that are illuminated by the light, or, not by seeing objects, but by beholding the light source itself. The first way, our perception of the light is oblique. The second way, our perception of the light is direct. The first way, we perceive the light as a by-product since all we actually see are the objects it illuminates. The second way, we perceive the light source first-hand.
The declaration that, “with Your light, we see light” is intended to exclude the first way from consideration. It teaches us that we must perceive Hashem’s light not via secondary indicators of its existence, but rather via first-hand encounter. In other words, the phrase should be understood as, “with [respect to] Your light, we [must] see [the] light”. Why? Because “the source of life is in Your domain”; since You are the source of life, our perception of Your light has to be source-oriented. Were we to perceive Your light by “seeing illuminated objects”, so to speak, our perception would be oblique and thus not suited to the Life-Source. Because “the source of life is in Your domain”, we must perceive Your light in a source-oriented manner.
It is important to realize that this principle forms the basis for the words, cited at the beginning of this Ma’amar, referring to the lights of the Chanukah Menorah: “These lights are sacred, so we are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them”. The Sages who authored the HaNeiros HaLalu prayer did so with the verse, “with Your light, we see light”, in mind. The underlying meaning of the “These lights are sacred...” phrase is that the lights of the Chanukah Menorah burn in order that their light be perceived in its own right, as a source, not through the secondary effect of their illumination of the surrounding area. “We are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them”.
Why were the lights of the Chanukah Menorah singled out to embody the message of the “with Your light, we see light” verse? Because the Chanukah lights commemorate our liberation from the Greek exile. The Greek exile is unique in that its primary objective is to subordinate the discipline of Torah study to the secular disciplines of inquiry. This attempt at subordination has many aspects - and one of them takes the form of an intense pressure to address the audacious charge that our discipline is inferior to theirs in that it lacks the device of definitive proof. The surest way to knock the underpinnings out from under this audacious charge, and thereby free ourselves from its pressure, is to clearly understand that the discipline of Torah study is not an outgrowth of the reality it deals with, as are the secular disciplines, but rather the source of a new, yet-to-be-realized reality. It is for this reason alone that definitive proofs are absent from the discipline of Torah study. In this light the discipline of Torah study is a wellspring, which must be perceived directly, and not second-hand, through its after-effects, which is essentially how “definitive proof” operates.
The premises which the natural sciences draw upon to construct “definitive proofs” are all based on observation of the physical world as it stands. This is because the natural sciences are no more than an attempt to understand the pre-existing laws of nature. Establishing laws of nature is outside the realm of natural science, and the very concept of “definitive proof” is inapplicable when a new world order is under construction and its laws of nature are in the process of first being defined. The exalted role of creating the new world order - the world order of the world-to-come - belongs exclusively to the discipline of Torah study. Thus, its lack of definitive proof is a badge of honor, to be worn with pride, not a badge of shame.
The purpose of the Chanukah lights is to reflect the “lights” of redemption - the redemption of the discipline of Torah study from its “exile”; its subordination to the secular disciplines. By definition, then, these lights of redemption are effective only to the extent that they cause us to sense the originative quality of the Torah.
“For the source of life is in Your domain; with Your light, we see light.”
[And therefore...]
“These lights are sacred, so we are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them”.
Question 2
Answer: Section 6

 

Sunday, October 6, 2019

Putting the Yetzer Horah In Its Place: An Exposition on Vidui from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Yom Kippur Maamar 17)


Putting the Yetzer Horah In Its Place: An Exposition on Vidui from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Yom Kippur Maamar 17)
Adapted By Eliakim Willner
Eliakim Willner is author of “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaTorah: An Appreciation of Torah Study”, a translation with commentary of a work by the Maharal of Prague, published by Artscroll/Mesorah. He is currently working on a continuation of the Nesivos Olam series, “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaAvodah: The Philosophy and Practice of Prayer”.


Vidui – A Return to Pre-Sin Odom
We know that vidui, confession, is a necessary component of the teshuva process; we learn this from the verse (Bamidbar 5:7), “they shall confess the sin they committed…”, which appears in the Torah section dealing with theft from a convert. [Someone who steals from a convert who has no descendants and who dies before the contrite thief can make restitution must confess his sin and pay back what he stole, plus a fine, to a kohen. This law serves as a paradigm for all baalei teshuva; to do a proper teshuva they must confess the sin that they committed as part of their teshuva process.]
There is, however, another form of vidui, which is not a part of a teshuva process and which also has a biblical source. The source for this form of vidui is the verse dealing with the vidui of the high priest, the kohen gadol, during the Yom Kippur service, which states (Vayikra 16:11), “and he shall atone, v’chiper, for himself and for his household”. The Gemara (Yoma 36b) explains that atonement in this context is accomplished not through animal sacrifice, which was the usual way of achieving atonement in the Bais HaMikdash, but through words – that is, through vidui, through a verbal confession.
We see from this Gemara that vidui has an innate power to trigger atonement even when it is not accompanied by the other accoutrements of the general teshuva process, and, moreover, this form of vidui has its own name, kaporas devarim – “verbal atonement” – and does not fall under the general rubric of “vidui”.
There is another remarkable aspect to verbal atonement, and that is, that although the function of “standard vidui” is to articulate the other teshuva components, such as a specification of the transgression for which forgiveness is sought, an expression of regret for committing it, and an undertaking never to repeat it; so as to draw them out of the heart, where they originate, into the open, verbal atonement is different in that it consists of nothing more than a bald statement of the transgression.
In truth, though, the characteristics of this unique form of vidui teach us something that is applicable to vidui in general as well. To understand what this is and how it works, we have to first understand what it is about vidui that enables it to achieve atonement at all, keeping in mind that its sometimes has the power to achieve atonement even when it is standalone and none of the other components of repentance are present. (Indeed, the Gemara referenced earlier gives verbal atonement the same status as sacrificial atonement. Normally when the Torah uses the word v’chiper, “and he shall atone”, it refers to animal sacrifice, but the Gemara does not hesitate to define the v’chiper in the context of the verse in Vayikra 16:11 as verbal atonement. By allowing the substitution the Gemara is implicitly saying that the effect of the two forms of v’chiper are the same.)
So, how does vidui, a mere verbal articulation of an offense, achieve atonement?
Our Sages taught us that the original sin of Odom and Chava caused the forces of evil to infiltrate man’s psyche and insinuate themselves into the very root of his soul, fundamentally changing man’s nature, and his relationship to the forces of evil, from their creation-original state. Our Sages (Shabbos 146b) describe this change of state with the phrase, “the primordial snake violated Chava and contaminated her with foulness”.
Sages versed in the hidden aspects of Torah (See Nefesh HaChaim, 1:6 in the first note) explain that this contamination with foulness marked the beginning of a new stage in the history of man, characterized by the muddling of good and evil. Evil existed before this, but it was sharply defined and easily recognized, since it was external to man; our Sages compared it to a dog, confined to the outdoors and howling at the people indoors. No one would confuse the dog with the people inside the house and similarly, no one, pre-primordial sin, would have confused the advice of the evil inclination, the yetzer horah, with the advice of the good inclination, the yetzer hatov.
After the sin, however, evil lives in man like a cancerous growth whose cells are intermingled with, and often hard to distinguish from, healthy cells. To the extent, then, that man does manage to isolate evil, forcibly eject it from himself, and externalize it, to that extent man moves himself closer to the state of Odom before he tasted sin. In other words, he moves himself closer to Hashem’s original plan for the optimum state of man, since the original sin was not “supposed” to happen. Vidui is no more or less than an ejection of, and an externalization, of sin! Vidui is a bald statement of the transgression; that statement is an “outing” of evil; an exorcism that, in a certain sense, extracts the evil of that sin from the person, exposing it to the cold light of day, and moving the person that much closer to the state of Odom pre-sin, when all evil was external.
This is the source of vidui’s power to achieve atonement. Forcing sin from the depths of the soul, where it had been hiding, to the openness of verbal expression, is akin to sifting out evil from the mishmash with holiness where it had been hiding, and vomiting it out to stand in isolation.
Exposure and Expulsion
We know that part of teshuva is expunging evil and separating it from the oneself from the words of a Tanna in the Gemara (Yoma 86b) who says that one should not re-confess sins next year that have already been confessed this year. Rabbeinu Yonah declared this to be the halacha, (Shaarei Teshuva 4:21) on the grounds that re-confessing gives the appearance of a lack of faith in the power of teshuva to eradicate sin – why would a person confess a second time if he truly believed that the first confession was effective?
However, the aforementioned Gemara characterizes re-confessing as being comparable to, “As a dog returns to his vomit, so does a fool repeat his folly” (Mishlei 26:11). The idea is that someone who returns to his confession is like a dog returning to his vomit; like a fool returning to his folly. The comparison does not make sense according to Rabbeinu Yonah’s understanding of the Gemara. According to Rabbeinu Yonah the reason re-confessing is prohibited is because it shows a lack of faith in the power of teshuva. However the comparison to the verse in Mishlei implies that the problem has to do with the returning itself, not with what the returning shows. Thus this Maamar presents an alternative understanding of the problem with re-confessing that fits better with the Mishlei verse.
In light of our understanding that vidui is an expulsion of sin, though, it makes a lot of sense. As we explained, the purpose of vidui is to transfer the sin from inside the person to outside him; an uprooting of the evil of the sin from its parasitic existence within a person’s soul. In that sense vidui is similar to taking food that has already been enjoyed and digested, and regurgitating it. The sinner enjoyed the “forbidden fruit” of sin while he was “eating” it – that is, while he was engaged in the act of sinning – and the evil of the sin was “digested” into his being. Afterwards, though, he felt remorseful, so he “regurgitated” the sin from himself through vidui, analogous to the vomiting out referenced in the verse.
The Gemara’s comparison of vidui to the regurgitation of food is a clear indication that vidui itself is a process of expunging something hidden inside him into the light of day.
A further indication that points to our definition of vidui: The antithesis of vidui is called mechaseh p’sha’av, “concealment of transgression” derived from the verse in Mishlei 28:13. To conceal is the opposite of to expose. Thus exposure is the factor in vidui that achieves atonement. And why is this? It is because exposure disentangles the sin-induced mélange of good and evil, and places the sin in isolation; in essence it is, to a degree, a reversal of the contamination of Chava with foulness. Vidui expunges that contamination from the body, and that brings a person closer to the ideal state of man, before Odom ate from the Tree of Knowledge, when he was free of the freeloading yetzer horah residing in his person.
This, then, is how the power of exposure achieves atonement. Exposing sin by confessing it aloud – vidui – is deemed an expulsion of the evil of sin from its embedment within a person’s psyche.
The Enemy Inside, and the Enemy Outside
This provides us a starting point for understanding the difference between the approach to sin avoidance of the penitent, the baal teshuva, and that of those who are righteous-from-the-start (for a particular aveira). The baal teshuva relates to his yetzer horah as one would relate to a hostile opponent, intent on swallowing him up. He calls on Hashem to be his witness that will not sin, much as a plaintiff would call on a witness in a dispute with a second party. This is clear from the Rambam (Hilchos Teshuva 2:2) who writes “What constitutes teshuva, repentance?  … And He who knows the hidden, will testify concerning him that he will never return to this sin again”, and the Kesef Mishna explains, “He must call upon Hashem to bear witness that he will never repeat this sin…”.
However the righteous-from-the-start relates to the yetzer horah as a person engaged in a struggle with himself. To fortify himself against sinning he takes an oath to his Creator, per the Gemara in Nedarim 8b, that he will not succumb to temptation. This is a mechanism that does not involve a second party at all.
Again, the baal teshuva relates to his yetzer horah as one would relate to an outside hostile opponent, intent on swallowing him up, whereas the righteous-from-the-start relates to the yetzer horah as a person engaged in a struggle with himself.
The reason for the difference, we now understand, is that someone who is righteous-from-the-start has never tasted vidui and therefore has never had the opportunity to banish the yetzer horah embedded in him to the outside. Since the transgression of Odom, everyone, even someone righteous-from-the-start, has an yetzer horah embedded in their psyche. Nonetheless, someone who is righteous-from-the-start has never had an opportunity to recite vidui since vidui can only be done after a person actually sins – since it is a confession of sin – and this person has never actually sinned. Thus the yetzer horah remains bottled up inside him and he must relate to it as a part of himself.
The yetzer horah started out within the recesses of his soul and remained there. His battle with it is a battle between one part of his self – the part that wants to resist sin – and another part of his self – the yetzer horah, that wants to draw him to sin.
This is not the case with the baal teshuva, who has experienced vidui, and who has, as the Gemara said, spat out the evil from within himself. His battle is now, in a manner of speaking with something external to him. The enemy he must attack has an independent existence; it is like the howling dog mentioned earlier.
Shma and the Baal Teshuva
“Listen, Yisroel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is one” (Devarim 6:4). Our Sages teach us (Yerushalmi Brachos 1:5) that this verse contains affirmations of the first two of the aseres hadibros (Devarim 5:6). When we say, “Hashem is our G-d” we are affirming the first commandment, which begins, “I am Hashem, your G-d”. When we say, “Hashem is one” we are affirming the second commandment, which begins, “You shall not have other gods…”.
It is worth looking into why the affirmations of the Shma verse appear in Parshas V’eschanan, after the contents of the second luchos are presented in the Torah. This implies that an affirmation was only necessary after the second set of luchos was presented. Why delay the affirmation until the second set?
Here too, though, the concept that we have been developing in this Maamar comes into play.
The difference between the first and second set of the aseres hadibros is that, while the first set was imparted on the basis of the nation having the status of righteous-from-the-start, the second set was imparted on the basis of the nation being in a state of repentance; in fact, the second set was first and foremost an instrument of solace for the nation, in recognition of their repentance.
Prior to the giving of the first set of luchos the nation was cleansed of sin and uplifted to the status of Odom before primordial sin. They were given a fresh start, and therefore had the status of righteous-from-the-start. They maintained that rarefied state until the sin of the golden calf, the egel, after which the first set of luchos were destroyed. The second set of luchos were given only after the nation repented.
Now, the words, “Listen, Yisroel” form an imperative statement expressed in second person – that is, directed at an outside party. But immediately, the tense switches to first person, as the verse continues with the words, “Hashem is our G-d”. In other words, the Shma verse is couched in terms of someone who is interacting with himself as one would interact with someone else – with an outside party. This is the signature “baal teshuva” mode of behavior. And that is why Shma is an affirmation of the second set of luchos, in particular.
The Perceptive Nazir
We can see how meticulous our Sages were in their choice of words, in the incident of the Nazir from the south (Nedarim 9b) of whose asham sacrifice Shimon HaTzadik partook, and whom he blessed with the words, “May there be more Nezirim like you in Yisroel!” When the Gemara relates this incident it takes pains to precisely quote the response of this Nazir when he was asked why he accepted Nezirus on himself, as follows:
“I was a shepherd for my father in my city and I went to the spring to draw water. I gazed upon my reflection and my yetzer horah rushed over to me and sought to banish me from the world. I said to him, ‘Evil one! Why are you giving yourself airs by tempting me to sin…?’ [A Nazir must shave his head at the conclusion of his period of Nezirus and the shepherd intended to thereby spoil his good looks and attenuate his temptation to sin.] Upon hearing this, Shimon HaTzadik arose and kissed him on his head and declared, ‘May there be more Nezirim like you in Yisroel!’”
Anyone with an ear attuned to the nuances of the words of our Sages will realize that the kiss and blessing of Shimon HaTzadik were directed not only at the actions of the Nazir, but also at the Nazir’s turn of phrase, which teaches us something new about tactics to use against the yetzer horah. The Nazir emphasized that in the heat of the moment when the yetzer horah threatened to overcome him, at the beginning of his “dialog” with the yetzer horah, he addressed him in the second person, and he continued in this vein when he related the event to Shimon the Righteous, using the words, “I told him…”
He was careful not to say, “I told myself…”. And he continued in this manner when he related the rest of his conversation with the yetzer horah. When he burst out in anger at the yetzer horah, he said, “Evil one! Why are you giving yourself airs in a world that is not yours”. In other words, he continued to deal with the yetzer horah as one would deal with another person, standing opposite him – not in an inward-facing manner, as someone making a personal decision. This mode of interaction with the yetzer horah was part of what impressed Shimon HaTzadik and what impelled Shimon HaTzadik to kiss and bless the shepherd.
We learned in this Maamar how a baal teshuva and how a righteous-from-the-start person relate to their yetzer horah, and we learned that relating to him as to an outside party is reserved for the baal teshuva. However, it seems that we may have to revise our thinking on this in light of the words of the Nazir. Those words teach us an extraordinary thing. Realize that the Nazir is not a baal teshuva; his battle with the yetzer horah is that of someone who is righteous-from-the-start and who has never indulged in this sin. [From his reaction to the yetzer horah it is apparent that this Nazir never committed the particular sin that the yetzer horah was tempting him with.] Yet his response to the yetzer horah makes it abundantly clear that even someone who is sin-free can relate to the yetzer horah in this way!
We see, then, that, in planning a strategy to defeat the yetzer horah, there is an advantage, even for someone who is righteous-from-the-start, to addressing it as if it were an external party that one can turn to and address as “you”. Otherwise why would the Nazir, who was righteous-from-the-start, address him in this way, rather than in the introspective manner that is more natural for someone in that category?
The key difference between this strategy in the hands of a baal teshuva and in the hands of a righteous-from-the-start person, is that for the baal teshuva, this strategy is reality, since the baal teshuva took an action that actually ejected, expelled and spat the yetzer horah out and away from himself. But the righteous-from-the-start has to visualize the yetzer horah outside himself, since he never took an action to make that expulsion a reality.
Nonetheless, there is value to using the imagination in this way, just as there is value to “always visualize oneself as hanging in the balance between conviction in the Heavenly court and acquittal” (Kiddushin 40b). If a person continually views his fate as hanging in the balance he will realize that a single good action could tip the balance in his favor while a single bad action could tip the balance in the other direction. Now, most people are not actually hanging in the balance, but they are being advised to imagine themselves in this state as motivation to seek out mitzvos and avoid transgressions.
In the same way, it is legitimate to visualize the yetzer horah as being outside oneself, even if he is not, since that makes it easier to “talk your way out of” transgressing.
Moreover, while it is true that this visualization is imaginary, for the righteous-from-the-start – unlike the situation of the baal teshuva, for whom relating to the yetzer horah as something external is very real – it is not, strictly speaking, a lie, because when man was first created, the yetzer horah was, in fact, external to him. This is the natural state of man, and it changed only because of the original sin. Therefore, when man is at the pinnacle of his greatness – when he is in the throes of subduing his yetzer horah, and can visualize it as being external to himself – he is throwing himself back to man’s originally intended state, where the yetzer horah really was external to him. There is imagination at play here, but no falsehood.
In fact, we can go so far as to say that just as, per our Sages (Yoma 29b), fantasizing about sin is worse, in a sense, than actually sinning, so might we also say that at times, dreams of holiness are better than acts of holiness.
Reality generally falls short of the dream. When we dream, whether for good or for bad, the object of our desire is perfect and without blemish and our ardor is never dampened, as it might be when we are faced with the reality of an imperfect world. In this sense, the righteous-from-the-start, who is visualizing his third-party confrontation with the yetzer horah, may actually has an advantage over the baal teshuva, who has to deal with him in reality.
May we all merit dreaming of holiness in these yimai hadin, and may we all merit achieving it!

An adaptation into English of the full text of Pachad Yitzchok, Yom Kippur Maamar 17 can be obtained from the author at eli@eliwillner.com.



Friday, September 13, 2019

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
By Eliakim Willner
Eliakim Willner is author of “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaTorah: An Appreciation of Torah Study”, a translation with commentary of a work by the Maharal of Prague, published by Artscroll/Mesorah. This article is adapted from his forthcoming continuation of the Nesivos Olam series, “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaAvodah: The Philosophy and Practice of Prayer”.


Part I – The Misoninim
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.
Part II – The Meraglim
What Didn’t They Like?
Rashi at the beginning of Parshas Shlach explains that the Meraglim “had it in” for the land of Israel before they even saw it, and their plan from the beginning was to come back with a report that would scare the nation away from wanting to go there. The obvious question is “why?” They left Egypt fully understanding that that was where they were headed. They knew that Hashem promised the land to Avrohom, for his descendants. What happened to change their thinking?
The Maharal, in Chidushei Aggados, Sotah 34b, explains that they knew that Hashem had two sets of rules with which He interacted with Yisroel. First, was natural law; if you want to eat, you have to plow, sow, plant, tend to, harvest, etc. Second, was “miracle law”; the way that Hashem interacted with Yisroel in the dessert, as they traveled to Israel. It included the mon, the ananim and the other phenomena that were discussed in Part I. That set of rules was designed so that Yisroel could focus exclusively on the Torah and spirituality – their role while in the dessert.
The Maharal explains that the Meraglim realized that once they reached Israel, the first set of rules would come back into play. The thought horrified them – think of all the time that would be wasted on the mundanities of earning a living, when they could have been learning Torah! They devised a ploy that, they hoped, would extend the “miracle law” mode as long as possible. For that reason, they came back with a report that, they knew, would frighten many members away from wanting to continue on to Israel.
Part III – The Conundrum
But Was That Bad?
This raises a serious question. True, the Meraglim were wrong to frighten the nation in this way, and to attempt to thwart Hashem’s plan to bring the nation into Israel, but weren’t their hearts in the right place? What was wrong with their desire to remain in an elevated spiritual state for as long as possible?
Moreover, the events of the Meraglim came on the heels of the events of the Misoninim and the two sets of events appear to show the nation acting in two contradictory ways. As we explained in Part I, the Misoninim were bothered by too much spirituality – they wanted their physical appetites back, as we explained. But shortly thereafter, the nation seemed to be pining for more spirituality; they wanted to continue on the high spiritual level of the dessert and defer the workaday life that they knew awaited them in Israel.
Apparently the nation took the lessons of the Misoninim to heart and learned to cherish a purely spiritual life. But then, why did they suffer such serious consequences after the Meraglim events?
Part IV – The Lesson
There is a Time for Everything
The answer is that Hashem presents us with a variety of challenges in life, and our job is to serve Him to the best of our ability within the constraints of the circumstances He has placed us in. When in the dessert, the nation’s job was to devote themselves exclusively to spiritual pursuits. That was the form of service Hashem demanded of them. But in Israel, the demands were different. The challenges were different. The nation’s job was to serve Hashem to the utmost, within the constraints of natural law. It is very wrong to rail against, or try to flout, Hashem’s plan, and that was the sin of the Meraglim.
All of use have similar challenges in our own lives. When we are in Yeshiva or Bais Yaakov our service to Hashem must include intensive study and we are charged to avoid anything that distracts us from that. When we enter the world of commerce our service must include integrity, kiddush Hashem, and of course, to maintain as rigorous a Torah study schedule as possible, albeit it will not be as intensive as it was during our Yeshiva days.
Not to distinguish between one set of life challenges and another partakes of the sin of the Meraglim. That must be our big takeaway from the juxtaposition of these two Torah portions.
Part V – Korach
Consequences
Perhaps a failure to appreciate this lesson was a factor in the rebellion of Korach, which appears in the next Torah portion. Korach and his cronies were frustrated: “What does Moshe want from us? First, we get into trouble for not being frum enough! So we “reboot” and become super-frum and we get into trouble for that! Moshe is just looking to get us into trouble!”
What they failed to appreciate is that there is a time and place for a variety of different modes of service to Hashem, and the consequences for Korach for that failure and his subsequent rebellion were to be permanently removed from the service-to-Hashem “playing field” entirely.
There are many lessons in these three parshios; may we take them all to heart!

This article is dedicated in honor of the upcoming wedding of our dear son Dovid to Perry Jerusalem, on the first day of Rosh Chodesh Tamuz. May they be zoche to build a bayis ne’eman b’Yisroel together, l’shaim, u’l’tiferes, and to be a source of nachas to myself, my wife, to our future mechutanim, Rabbi and Mrs. Akiva Jerusalem, and to all of klal Yisroel!