Bamidbar 5786: One Will to Rule Them All

GOOD MORNING! Just this week a rabbi was telling me of a conversation he had with a woman who was contemplating conversion to Judaism. His initial response to her was, “Why? Do you have a special affinity for laws and lots of strict rules?”

As discussed in prior editions, although there is a special reverence within Jewish law for those who convert, there is no embedded ideology of initiating membership drives for new recruits. In fact, it is quite the opposite; the protocol has always been to do what can be done to discourage those interested in converting to Judaism.

There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that Judaism is basically the only religion that believes that a person doesn’t have to be a member of said religion to earn a share in the World-to-Come. According to Jewish law (and codified by Maimonides) non-Jews can also earn themselves a place in heaven. Because of this, Jews do not have an obligation to “save” others.

But it is very telling that a perceived negative of adopting Judaism would be the plethora of laws associated with it. This is not surprising; I have heard some version of this very same sentiment many times – from Orthodox Jews who feel repressed (particularly adolescents and young adults), and sidelong comments from community members (“I cannot believe that so-and-so became Jewish/religious – all those rules! Don’t they know how hard it is to be a Jew?”).

Much of the wisdom of the Torah has been distilled into principles of life and ethical behavior and compiled by our sages in the work known as Pirkei Avot – Ethics of our Fathers. This manual for living a meaningful and principled life was completed about two thousand years ago and the wisdom contained within is quite timeless. Pirkei Avot is part of the Torah known as Mishna, which forms much of the basis of the “Oral Law.”

Regarding our current discussion, we find a rather enigmatic teaching in Pirkei Avot, “There is no one freer than one who occupies himself with the study of Torah” (6:2).

At first blush, this statement seems to contradict our intuitive understanding of what it means to follow all the laws of the Torah, as discussed above. In fact, a person who studies the Torah regularly and does his best to keep its commandments is known as an eved Hashem – a servant of the Almighty. Servitude does not sound like any sort of freedom!

We find a fundamental truth – one that is a foundational pillar of Judaism – in every stratum of Jewish texts and philosophical thought. It appears in the Mishna, the Talmud, the Midrash, and in Jewish mysticism:

“The Holy One, Blessed be He, looked into the Torah and created the world” (Bereishis Rabbah 1:1, Zohar Terumah 161a-161b). Likewise, we find in Pirkei Avot mention of the special love that was shown to the Jewish people: “for they were given the instrument (i.e. the holy Torah) from which the world was created” (3:14).

What the Mishna, Midrash, Zohar, and many other sources are referring to is the fact that the Torah is the blueprint for the creation of the world. What this means is that the Torah is the articulation of the will of the Almighty and the ultimate expression of His desire to bring everything into creation. The Almighty, as it were, peered into the Torah to construct the world and all its components.

This is extremely important for many reasons, not the least of which is that it means everything in creation is part of a single entity; a unity. Every single component is a part of a greater whole. This is because everything in creation is really just an expression of the will of the Almighty, Who is the very definition of a unified whole, and everything in creation is an expression of that coherence.

Even when something is perceived as evil – such as the Angel of Death – it is simply part of a system set up by the Almighty and is just playing the role for which it was created. Because everything in existence is an articulation of the will of the Almighty and His overarching “oneness,” everything in creation has a proper place and reason for its existence.

This is also true of emotions. Emotions like anger and jealousy cannot be viewed as inherently “evil.” In the Torah and subsequent classical commentaries, we find that there is a time and place for everything; even emotions like anger, hate, and jealousy are essentially powerful tools that become destructive only when misaligned with truth or used for ego-driven purposes.

However, when these emotions are channeled toward a constructive or holy end, they are an essential component of bringing the world back into realignment. Some examples of this are: Pinchas who was jealous for the honor of the Almighty; Moses getting righteously angry by the sin of the Golden Calf and destroying the first set of the Ten Commandments; and all the places in the Torah where we are enjoined to hate evil and wickedness. There are many such examples throughout the scriptures.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, even “good” emotions and tendencies can be perverted and used in improper ways. A classic example of this is in this week’s Torah portion when it mentions the two sons of Aaron:

“Nadav and Avihu died before God when they brought a strange (i.e. unauthorized) fire before Him in the Sinai desert, and they did not have children” (Bamidbar 3:4).

However, Nadav and Avihu, according to the Talmud, were in many ways as great as Moses and Aaron. So why did they bring a “strange fire” to the Mishkan? What is the source of the temptation to even commit such a sin?

Additionally, the Torah’s comment that Nadav and Avihu had no children appears to be a curious non sequitur in the account of the “strange fire” that cost them their lives. According to the Talmud, however, it is very much in place.

The Talmud derives from here that had they indeed had children then Nadav and Avihu would not have died. As a result, the Talmud concludes that a person who does not attempt to fulfill God’s command to “be fruitful and multiply” is liable to the heavenly death penalty. (This means, of course, that they made no attempt to have children. In fact, they never married; had they been married and simply not been blessed with children, then they certainly would have been blameless.)

Still, this is very difficult to understand in light of the fact that the Torah explicitly identifies their sin as the act of bringing an unauthorized fire. How can the Talmud contend that they were given the death penalty because they did not attempt to have children?

Everyone has a desire to be a giver or benefactor. There is something internally compelling about being a giver (or being perceived as one) and we feel good when we give of ourselves to others. Nadav and Avihu did not wish to merely serve in the Tabernacle – they wanted to make a contribution of their own to the service in the Tabernacle. They wanted to be benefactors. This was really about their own selfish desires.

Nadav and Avihu sought to fulfill this need in their relationship with the Almighty, a context in which it was highly improper. The natural drive to be a giver was thus channeled in an unhealthy and sinful way.

The Talmud is teaching us that the reason the Torah mentions the fact that they had no children was because it was a contributing factor in their deaths. If they had children of their own, then this internal drive to be a giver would have been satisfied and they would not have gone against the word of the Almighty by trying to be a benefactor to the service in the Tabernacle.

Amazingly, this is even reflected by their very names; the name Nadav itself means “benefactor,” and the name Avihu is a contraction of the phrase “avi hu – he is my father,” referring to the epitome of a giver. As every father knows, fatherhood is permanent job of supporter – in every sense of the word.

Thus, everything in creation – from every iota of physical and metaphysical existence to every single concept, idea, and emotion – is based on the blueprint of the Torah. Because the Torah is the expression of the will of the Almighty and a reflection of His unity, a person can only find his ultimate fulfillment by being a true servant of His will. In this way, we discover who we are and what role we are meant to play in the “oneness” of creation. It is only in following the Torah that we discover who we really are.

A person may selfishly think he needs pleasure, power, recognition, intimacy, escape, or control. But the Torah teaches him where those drives truly belong and how they are meant to be expressed. That is why Torah study is the first and highest obligation. Through Torah, a person can reach the point where he is not merely restraining desire, but transforming it. In this process he discovers a deeper and healthier fulfillment.

This is particularly important at this time of year because next week we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot – the holiday celebrating when the Jewish people received the Torah. Upon receiving the Torah, the Jewish people agreed to accept the vision of the Almighty for the world as expressed in the Torah, and to be the caretakers of it and true servants of the Almighty.

Look for next week’s edition for a more in-depth look at Shavuot!

Bamidbar, Numbers 1:1 - 4:20

In the second year of travel in the desert, Moses and Aaron were commanded by the Almighty to count all male Israelites between 20 and 60. There were 603,550 available for military service. The tribe of Levi was exempt because of their special duties as religious leaders. (It is probably from here that countries give divinity deferments to clergy and divinity students.)

The twelve tribes were directed regarding the formation (three tribes were on each side of the Portable Sanctuary) in which they were to camp and travel.

The 22,300 Levites were commanded in the Sanctuary service. The family of Gershon was to transport the coverings of the Sanctuary. The family of Kehos carried the Ark, Table, Menorah, and Altars. The family of Merari transported the boards, pillars, bolts, and sockets.