Wonders from Your Torah

“Miriam and Aharon spoke about Moses…” Miriam the Prophetess and Aharon the High Priest criticized their younger brother, Moses, for separating from his wife (as the sages explain) and immediately God revealed Himself to them and informed them of the essential difference between Moses’ prophecy and that of all other prophets. “If there be prophets among you, [I] Havayah will make Myself known to him in a vision; I will speak to him in a dream. Not so is My servant Moses; he is faithful throughout My house. With him I speak mouth to mouth; in a vision and not in riddles, and he beholds the image of Havayah. So why were you not afraid to speak against My servant Moses?”

What connection is there between Moses’ prophetic rank and the fact that he separated from his wife? The sages explain, “Moses did well to separate from his wife since the Divine Presence revealed itself to him frequently and there was no set time for speaking” (Rashi). This was illustrated to Aharon and Miriam when God revealed Himself to them “suddenly” when they were impure. Although the verses deal with the level of Moses’ prophecy in general and not with the frequency of his prophecy, this detail is obviously the essential issue of Moses’ prophecy for which he had to separate from his wife. So, let’s meditate on the comparison between Moshe Rabeinu and the other prophets and by doing so we will gain better understanding of the different levels of prophecy and their consummate manifestation in Mashiach.

Two mirrors

The sages refer to Moses’ prophecy as a “shining lens” in contrast to other prophets who prophesied through a “lens that does not shine” (as Rashi points out in his commentary on the above verses). What exactly does it mean to prophesy through a “lens?” There are sages of the opinion that this is like a glass partition through which we can see through to the other side and there are others who say that this is like a mirror that reflects the image before it. Combining these two interpretations, we come to the understanding that the “shining lens” refers to a clear glass through which one can see, while the “lens that does not shine” refers to a mirror. This fits in nicely with the different expressions that appear in the abovementioned verses: regarding all the prophets it says, “In a vision I will become known to him,” whereas concerning Moses it states “In a vision and not in riddles.” The word the Torah uses for “vision” (מַּרְאָה) in the first verse and in reference to the prophecies of all prophets but Moses, also means “mirror.” As we recall, this level of universal prophecy is described as the “lens that does not shine” [as in the copper “mirrors” (מַרְאֹת) that the women donated to the Mishkan, which were used to make the washbasin.] In contrast, the word the Torah uses for “vision” (מַרְאֶה) in the second verse and in reference to Moses’ prophecy is a completely translucent lens. One more point: the prophets’ “vision” (מַּרְאָה) is in the feminine form, whereas Moses’ “vision” (מַרְאֶה) is in the masculine form, which further illustrates the faculty of a mirror to reflect the vision, like a female who receives from the male.

What does this mean? In general, we are taught that Moses integrates his prophecies with completely clear intellectual insight, in contrast to the prophets who see visions, riddles and allegories, but cannot visualize Divinity itself. Moses integrates the prophetic vision itself as it descends from above and even though he has a personality of his own, and he lives in a physical body, nonetheless, his ego is transparent, like clear glass, and his person does not obstruct his vision at all. In contrast, all other prophets have an obstruction that blocks God’s word as it descends from above, and they can integrate it only when it “hits” the lowest reality, as if they held a mirror in their hand and gazed at the Divine light reflected in it. If we compare the Divine light to sunlight, then Moses was able to gaze directly at the light through a single clear lens without it blinding him, while other prophets can only look at the light once it is reflected back from the earth, becoming “returning light.”

[In Kabbalistic terminology, a mirror (מַרְאָה) corresponds to the sefirah of kingdom, the lowest sefirah, which “has nothing of its own,” and only reflects the light and the essential content that reaches it from the sefirot above it. In contrast, a vision (מַרְאֶה) represents the sefirah of beauty, the principal sefirah of all the sefirot (the persona of “the small countenance”) which emits a revelation of Divine light. Beauty is the male and kingdom is the female.]

Moses separates from his wife

What we learn from this is that Moses did not need our mundane world to receive his prophecy. He stood directly before God, “mouth to mouth” and “face to face,” “he gazed at Havayah’s image.” This is why Moses had to eventually separate from his wife. A couple must always retain mutual positive communication, looking into one another’s eyes and transmitting the message, “I love you.” But Moshe Rabbeinu, who at every moment was ready to receive his prophecy, could not allow himself to be distracted by turning his gaze away from the Divine vision; he was therefore forced to separate from his wife, Tziporah. Moses knew that it is impossible to simultaneously look upwards at the Divine Presence and downwards at his beloved wife. He therefore had no choice but to leave Tziporah to marry the Divine Presence, as it were. Miriam the Prophetess and Aharon the High Priest, who were both happily married (Miriam to Caleb ben Yefuneh and Aharon to Elisheva bat Aminadav), did not understand at first why Moses had to separate from Tziporah, until the Almighty Himself explained Moses’ exceptional level of prophecy and how it required his total devotion, making it impossible for him to engage in normal family life.

At a more profound level, we touch here upon an important issue regarding the relationship between a husband and wife. A woman uses a mirror profusely to adorn herself and to examine her looks and her beauty. But a man does not usually need a mirror and in fact, halachah (Jewish law) forbids a man to look at himself in the mirror like a woman (as part of the prohibition, “A man shall not wear a woman’s dress”)! This gender difference stems from a very deep source: a woman’s experience of selfhood is based on her appearance to others around her. She needs to see her reflection, as it were, in order to experience herself. A man’s experience of self starts from within, therefore men take less interest in how others see them. [To put it another way, looking in the mirror (be it figuratively or literally) does not help men see themselves for what they really are because of their inherent bias to how they see themselves from the inside. But, women, are less subjectively biased and therefore gain from looking into a mirror.]

Yet the truth is that a man also has (and needs) a mirror―his wife! By looking at his wife, a man can see himself as he truly is. [An experiment for the men reading this article: if you are not sure how you feel, simply look at your wife; she reflects your feelings perfectly.] Moses however, was incapable of looking at his wife in this way, because he was totally, “the man of God” for whom it is unfitting to stare at reflections of reality. Moses constantly had a prophetic vision in sight, “the real thing” literally face to face with God.

Mashiach returns to his wife

We have explained why at his level of prophecy, the highest attainable, Moses had no other option but to separate from his wife. Yet, from our own non-prophetic perspective, this conclusion seems to arouse a sense of cognitive dissonance. We have all been brought up on the merits and importance of raising a strong Jewish family, centered around the loving relationship between husband and wife. Is this spiritual apex not the true apex of Jewish life? Does Moses’ separation from family life imply that there is some higher calling?

The truth is that although Moshe Rabbeinu is the greatest of all prophets, who ever have been and ever will be—“Never again has there been appointed a prophet for the Jewish people equal to Moses”—the Mashiach’s level will complement his level, and will bring us all to a higher status. Indeed, in Chassidut it is explained that although Moses was right to separate from his wife, Mashiach will not follow suit.

In order to sense this messianic revelation to some extent, let’s return to the difference between the two lenses. Meditating more deeply, it becomes clear (as explained in Chassidut) that the “lens that does not shine” actually has a certain advantage over the “shining lens.” As much as we are able to gaze directly at Divinity, facing God, nonetheless our intellect and insight are limited. Even with the clearest of lenses, with the clearest insight, we can reach only so far in our perception. As we ascend further and further, going from “strength to strength,” we will always find that beyond the horizon, there lies another horizon; beyond the vision we have perceived, there remains an infinite expanse. And yet, “the lens that does not shine,” the mirror that lies below and only reflects higher realities has no such limitation. It is able to reflect light from the highest realms, revealing it to us in the form of sparks of holiness that have been extracted from below. This means that when the mundane has become a polished mirror that can reflect Divinity, there is an advantage to perceiving God through it.

We can say that Moses himself took the first step in this direction. Although he was not allowed to completely return to his wife, Tzipporah, nonetheless it seems plausible that after hearing his sister Miriam’s criticism, he understood that just looking at his wife would not necessarily stand in contradiction to his dedication to the Almighty (and even when one cannot be intimate with one’s wife, just looking at her with a loving gaze is allowed and desirable.)

The loving gaze between husband and wife will reach its highpoint with the Mashiach, whose soul is Moses’ soul. Mashiach will clarify that when a couple gaze at one another, with sanctity and purity, they see in each other a special revelation of the Almighty, who is called the third “partner” in a Jewish home. This consummate bond between man and wife does not remain visual only, but also manifests as actual physical union, without requiring the husband, as spiritually elevated as he might be, to separate from his wife. Rather, their marital joy can be revealed on every plane of existence. In fact, the more one is sanctified and dedicated to God by freeing oneself of corporeality, the more one recognizes that in fact the highest level of Divine revelation can be experienced by looking at one’s beloved spouse.

לפי יין משמח ח”ב עמ’ סב

In Parashat Naso, the parashah of sotah (the unfaithful wife) begins with the words, “Any man whose wife strays.” The verb “stray” (תִּשְׂטֶה) is the key word in this passage and via it we can understand the nature of this sin and the way to rectify it.

Rashi interprets the words,  “Any man whose wife strays”:

Our sages taught, adulterers do not commit adultery unless a spirit of folly (רוּחַ שְׁטוּת) enters them, as it says “when she strays” (כִּי תִּשְׂטֶה) [note that “folly” (שְׁטוּת) and “strays” (תִּשְׂטֶה) have the same root (שטה)] and about him it says, ‘An adulterer of women lacks a heart.’ But the literal meaning of the phrase is “when she strays.”

From the grammatical perspective, the meaning of the root שטה is “straying from the path,” i.e., the left-handed sin (שׂ) is exchanged with the letter samech (ס) as we find many times in various words. But, before this literal interpretation, Rashi brings the sages’ interpretation that the word for “unfaithful wife” (שׂוֹטָה), spelled with a left-handed sin (שׂ) is from the same root as the Aramaic word “folly” (שׁטוּת), spelled with a right-handed shin (שׁ).

The folly of sin

What “spirit of folly” is it that results in adultery? We can say that an adulterer’s folly is ignoring the results of his actions. Adulterers live in an imaginary world, believing that they can lead a double life and enjoy all the worlds, but in truth they are destroying their own life and the life of others with their own hands. [Although the folly here appears in the context of an unfaithful wife, Rashi quotes the verse that refers to a man, “An adulterer of women lacks a heart (i.e. lacking in intellect)].” Similarly, we are taught that the wayward wife brings a minchah (plant offering) of barley, although almost all other plant offerings are of wheat, because, “She committed an animalistic act, therefore her offering is animal fodder.” An animal acts on instinct, and similarly, a sinner allows his drives to control him and to guide his actions.

In truth, “a spirit of folly” is not merely the sin of adultery. The Talmud states “No-one transgresses a sin unless a spirit of folly enters him” (and this statement is derived from the verse we are discussing). Every sin in the world is the result of a spirit of folly! But why? Is it really true that every Jew who desecrates the Shabbat, for example, does so because of a spirit of folly? He could claim that he is entirely aware of what he is doing, but nonetheless he decides to smoke on Shabbat, God forbid. Where is the folly here?

In order to understand this, one must understand the nature of true Jewish wisdom (as explained in this context in the Tanya). Jewish wisdom is such that it recognizes the Jew’s essential bond to the Almighty, so much so that any sin, by being contradictory to God’s desire, disconnects this bond. If an individual would be totally aware of the significance of his sin, he would never sin – not only because of the expected punishment (fear of punishment), but because of the essential capacity of sin to detach the soul from its true source of vitality, from the Living God. When a Jew senses that a particular sin completely contradicts his Jewish essence, his essence will be aroused and he will refuse to do the act, even if he has to pay the price of self-sacrifice! But, what actually happens when an individual sins is that he deludes himself that this “small” sin that has come his way at the moment does not contradict his Jewish essence. A Jew who regrettably desecrates Shabbat in public, may still claim “I am a Jew and there are things that I refuse to do, but desecrating Shabbat does not make me into a non-Jew. It’s not so bad.” This is the folly! Because although you will certainly always remain Jewish, that is the exact reason why every sin, even a sin which is considered far more lenient than desecrating Shabbat, is “spitting in the face” of your Father in Heaven (like a child who upsets his parents makes a big mistake, even though he is currently unable to understand the significance of his actions). In short, every sin is a result of “temporary insanity;” this is insanity that a person brings upon himself through his own erroneous free will.

Straying from respecting modesty

Let’s return to Rashi’s literal interpretation, “‘When she strays’ – straying from the way of modesty.” This interpretation places a different emphasis on the nature of the sin. This is not a spirit of folly that ignores wisdom, but straying from the correct accepted habit. Regarding the sotah’s minchah offering (from barley) the Torah states, “He shall not put frankincense upon it” – for the Matriarchs are called “frankincense” as it says, “To the Hill of Frankincense,” “and she [the sotah] departed from their ways.” (Rashi). The four Matriarchs of the Jewish people are a model and a symbol for “modest ways” and they thus exude the pleasant aroma of frankincense, an aroma of purity and modesty – but the sotah has strayed from this path. It is important to note here that the sotah is not called this because of a confirmed act of adultery, but only because of an unproven suspicion that she has behaved inappropriately and entered a prohibited situation (by being alone with another man in private, as detailed in halachah).

Here too, a shallow intellect might fail to appreciate the “ways of modesty” required by Jewish tradition, such as modest clothing and separating the sexes (when required). A woman might protest against these limitations, seeing them as an unnecessary burden, but true feminine insight (“greater understanding was given to the woman”) realizes that the ways of modesty that we inherited from our holy Matriarchs offer the most respect for Jewish girls. This insight appreciates the preference of something modest over something exposed, and knows that a woman has a “hidden secret” so delicate and private that if it is not guarded as it should be then it is damaged and disrespected.

The battle against promiscuity

In modern Hebrew, the root of the word “stray” (סטה) also refers to a sexual perversion. Here too we must cope with the mistaken perception of “shallow intellect”: in a modern word, people think of themselves as intelligent people who are not confined by ancient primitive perceptions and in the name of “intellectual enlightenment” they are pro-promiscuity to the extreme, in the name of the “sacred equality principle.”

However, true Jewish wisdom justifies the ancient perception which distinguishes between normative family life and unrestricted promiscuous confusion. Again, in order to attain this true wisdom, we must understand that the root of this wisdom is inherent in a far more profound realization that lies above normal human knowledge. This is the wisdom that was revealed in its entirety in the Torah and its mitzvot, and it can say what the correct way of life is and what is considered straying from the path. Someone who is connected to the Torah’s wisdom is not confused; he knows that modern promiscuity is a digression from the straight path and that even brilliant minds can uphold a principle that is none other than folly.

This is what the wisest of men said, “There is an advantage of wisdom over stupidity, like the advantage of light from darkness.” The Zohar clarifies that the meaning here is not to regular stupidity (what wisdom is there in claiming that wisdom is preferable to stupidity?) rather that shallow wisdom, even though it has a lot of intellect, can be foolish if it does not draw from the profound inner wisdom.

Holy folly

What do we have to offer instead of the folly of straying? After denouncing the spirit of folly at the pillory and defaming it as the father of all sin, we might think that Judaism completely negates any type of foolishness. In contrast to a spirit of folly, there is only a spirit of seriousness, or proper deliberation according to the Torah’s wisdom.

Indeed, we should certainly act with wisdom and insight at all times. However, surprisingly enough, we find that there is a respectable place for foolishness in the Torah. If the source of the negative expression for a spirit of folly comes from the parashah of sotah, then rejoicing at a wedding is when we act a little foolishly. The Talmud relates that one of the Amoraim, Rav Shmuel bar Yitzchak, would dance before the bride juggling three myrtle branches. Another sage of his generation, Rabbi Zeira, criticized him at the moment of the act, saying “the old man is embarrassing us” – he is degrading the respect of Torah scholars by allowing himself to act light-headedly (Rashi). But after Rav Shmuel bar Yitzchak passed away, a pillar of fire appeared above him, which marked the fact that he was “unique in his generation,” then Rabbi Zeira said, “The old man’s folly benefited him.”

In Chassidut, Rav Shmuel bar Yitzchak’s behavior at a wedding is referred to as “holy folly” and it is explained that the tendency to “fool around” stems at its root from a very deep source that is above all reason. There is nothing more destructive than this foolish tendency when it usually appears, in its unripe, negative form. But, we can bring it to total submission by acting with “holy folly.” The joy at a Jewish wedding is so great that it is beyond any attainable wisdom, it is therefore fitting to act “foolishly” (which, at first glance can be seen to be injurious to the Torah scholar’s respectable appearance). A Jewish home that is founded on holy folly is impermeable to the spirit of folly that is described in parashat sotah. Obviously, this holy spirit of folly depends on being consciously and completely in control (like a juggler); absolutely methodical foolishness. Indeed, there is another version of Rabbi Zeira’s words regarding Rav Shmuel bar Yitzchak that the Talmud quotes, “The old man’s method (שיטה) benefited him.”

Sometimes we can suffice with a path of complete seriousness. But, in our generation in particular, the generation of redemption, we must utilize the method of “holy folly.” In this way, we can expose our most essential Jewish powers; the essence of our faith. This is how we can truly combat all the spirits of folly and any tendency to “stray” and reach true marital harmony in every Jewish home and in the entire Jewish people.

Chumash Bamidbar [the Book of Numbers] relates the account of the Jewish people’s long journey through the wilderness, from Mt. Sinai to the gates of the Promised Land. After a prolonged sojourn before Mt. Sinai, where we received the Torah and where the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was constructed, Parashat Bamidbar begins with the rigorous preparations for the journey ahead, conducted with a military spirit. As a census is taken of all the Children of Israel and the camp is organized according to their ensigns, the Jewish people literally become God’s Army.

The Zohar teaches us that,

The world was not complete until the Jewish people received the Torah at Mt.Sinai and the Mishkan was built. Then the worlds were solidified and completed, and the upper [worlds] and the lower [worlds] were bathed in a glorious fragrance. Once the Torah and the Mishkan were established, the Almighty desired to take a census of the Torah’s soldiers; how many soldiers of Torah were there, how many soldiers of the Mishkan were there.

At this point in history, the entire Jewish people enlisted for life in God’s army, and the Zohar reveals that the census was in fact twofold, enumerating how many “Torah soldiers” and how many “Mishkan soldiers” there were among the people. What is the significance of this distinction?

Two types of soldier

The Zohar is alluding to a profound level where the soul roots of the Jewish people are divided into two principal functions: those devoted to Torah and those devoted to the Mishkan. Although this division may not be readily observable on most Jews, whose straightforward religious devotion makes them willingly volunteer for any holy cause that may be asked of them, whether it is intended for God, for the Torah, for the Mishkan, or for the Jewish people in general. But, among the special operatives and high-ranking officers in God’s army, one can generally identify two types: those essentially devoted to Torah, Torah soldiers and those dedicated to serving God, or Mishkan soldiers.

The sages tell us that, “The world stands on three pillars: on the Torah, on Divine service and on acts of loving-kindness.” The Torah soldier dedicates himself to the pillar of Torah while the Mishkan soldier’s dedication lies with the pillar of Divine service. Obviously, both are indispensable; the one cannot exist without the other. But the question is, which is more dominant and significant? The Torah soldier follows the directive that the Torah is our life and everything revolves around it, while the Mishkan soldier is motivated and energized by Divine service (in our generations, this refers particularly to prayer).

The Chabad tradition beautifully illustrates the difference between the two. Every Lubavitcher strives to be a faithful and dedicated soldier, and each knows that he must dedicate himself to both the intellect (through in-depth study of Chassidic teachings) and to Divine service (particularly through prayer). But ultimately, each individual is recognized as either a maskil (intellectually inclined) or an oived (inclined towards service, particularly prayer). The maskil is the Torah soldier; his main occupation is studying and knowing Torah (including both its concealed and revealed dimensions), thus following the directive to “Know your father’s God,” until he reaches in-depth understanding. The Torah soldier’s profession is Torah and he invests his entire life and all his energies to studying it. In contrast, the oived is the Mishkan soldier and his entire life is dedicated to achieving devoted union with the Almighty following the directive, “You shall serve Him wholeheartedly.”

Another way to state the difference between these two types of dedication is that the maskil [the intellectual] focuses on how the mind’s faculties control the heart’s emotions, while the oived focuses on nurturing the attributes of his heart, beginning with love and fear. (The oived agrees that the mind controls the heart, but notes that that applies only to the heart’s relatively revealed emotions, while the heart’s more inner essence controls the mind. In response, the maskil claims that the mind’s inner essence controls even the heart’s inner essence. And so they continue, debating back and forth, ad infinitum).

[In the history of Chabad, the two most prominent chassidim were Rebbe Isaac of Homil and Rebbe Hillel of Paritch. Rebbe Isaac was known as the maskil, and Rebbe Hillel the oived. Still, for all his intellectual genius, Rebbe Isaac was a great man of prayer, and for all his depth in Divine service, Rebbe Hillel was also a remarkable maskil.]

The Torah for everyone

How else can we understand the difference between primary dedication to Torah vs. devotion to serving God? Let us look at the states of mind fostered by the Torah and by the Mishkan.

The Torah is the eternal truth that never changes. From the moment we received the Torah on Mt.Sinai it has accompanied us through all our wanderings. Indeed, the Torah is above time and space. Even while the Jewish people journeyed through the wilderness, as well as today, when we continue to wander through the wilderness of exile, the Torah remains consummately whole. Therefore, the Torah soldier is not perturbed by changes in reality or circumstance, because in the end nothing has changed since the Torah was given at Mt. Sinai. The conflicts and difficulties that fill our lives are of no interest to him and his single-minded focus is on his life’s mission: to reveal and spread forth the Torah’s eternal light.

Obviously, the Torah soldier is not self-centered. He studies in order to teach and to bring others closer to the Torah. In fact, he has the constructive ability of approaching everyone equally: every Jew, no matter how he identifies himself, is welcome to a Torah class and invited to don tefillin (phylacteries). The Torah belongs equally to every Jew and makes no prejudice because of their pedigree or standing in life. As the sages state, “the crown of Torah lies in place, anyone wishing to claim it may come and claim it.”

The Mishkan’s mobility and uniqueness

In contrast to the Torah’s steady nature, the Mishkan partakes of many adventures, so to speak. The Mishkan is where the Divine Presence resides. Even though ultimately, when the future Temple is built, this will be a permanent residence, in the meantime, there are many ups and downs in this respect. This is particularly apparent in Chumash Bamidbar (the Book of Numbers), that relates how at the outset of every stage of their journey the Jewish people would dismantle the Mishkan and then reconstruct it when they camped. In their essence, all the Mishkan’s journeys were akin to a battle march. When the Holy Ark began moving, Moses would say, “Rise Havayah, and Your enemies will disperse,” and as the Zohar explains, the journeys’ purpose was war with the kelipot (the forces of evil) inhabiting the wilderness, manifesting in the form of, “serpent, viper and scorpion.”

In contrast to the Torah’s uniform readiness to be studied by all, not everyone is of equal status when it comes to the Mishkan. The crown of priesthood was granted only to Aharon and his sons, while the Levites stood guard around the Mishkan to ensure that no foreigner would approach, “And the foreigner who approaches, shall die.” The difference in individual status in relation to the Mishkan is also apparent in the structure of the Children of Israel’s desert encampment. It was structured with the Mishkan in the center, surrounded first by the Levites and then the rest of the people, divided under four ensigns (three tribes to a banner). It seems that the special character of each tribe is related to this structure and its particular location relative to the Mishkan dwelling in the heart of the Jewish camp.

[Incidentally, stressing how the Mishkan relates and even accentuates differences in character fits nicely with the Vilna Gaon’s interpretation of the Zohar referring to Torah soldiers and Mishkan soldiers. The Vilna Gaon explains that Torah soldiers refers to the census appearing in chapter 1, before the tribes were placed in their specific locations around the Mishkan, while the Mishkan soldiers refers to the enumeration of the tribes with reference to their encampment around the Mishkan appearing in chapter 2.]

Like the Mishkan, the Mishkan soldier experiences ups and downs. Like the emotional heart with its ebb and flow, the Mishkan soldier seeks to make for God a dwelling place below, but when required, will dismantle it and reconstruct it later. He cannot approach every Jew because he senses that not everyone can understand his approach and not everyone shares his devotion to constructing a dwelling place for the Divine Presence. He is naturally drawn to work with those sharing his convictions, those individuals belonging to the inner circle of his own community who can appreciate his grand ideals.

The truth is that we need both types of people. We cannot do without the Torah soldiers, dedicated to the pillar of the Torah, whose only concern is to spread the Torah to everyone, without distinction, for the purpose of bringing all Jews closer to their Father in Heaven. Nor can we do without the Mishkan soldiers, dedicated to the pillar of God’s service (in prayer) and diligently nurturing a strong, devoted, and warmhearted community that can carry out the important mission that the Jewish people are destined to fulfill. Together, both will bring the redemption.

From Rabbi Ginsburgh’s farbrengen on Shabbat Parashat Bamidbar, 5766

In Parashat Emor we are commanded, “Do not desecrate My Holy Name, and I shall be sanctified within the Children of Israel.” These two mitzvot (commandments), desecrating God’s Name and sanctifying it, can be interpreted as very general principles that guide us to sanctify God’s Name in every action that we do and not to desecrate it. Nonetheless, the particular mitzvah of sanctifying God’s Name is specified regarding situations in which we are required to give up our lives in total self-sacrifice.

Jewish law holds that human life has supreme and fundamental value and the Almighty wants us to live in this world and not to die. This is why any life-threatening situation usually overrides all other mitzvot, as the verse states, “Observe My statutes and My laws that an individual does and he shall live by them” on which the sages expound, “but he should not die by them.” Yet, under certain circumstances we reveal that there is something beyond even the fundamental essence of life, as Rashi comments on the verse in Parashat Emor, “‘I shall be sanctified’―sacrifice yourself and sanctify My Name.”

There is a distinction made in Jewish law between those special mitzvot that one must sacrifice one’s life for and all other mitzvot. For example, if a Jewish individual is in a situation in which observing Shabbat will endanger his life, or when he must eat pork to survive and not die of hunger, the law is clear-cut: desecrate Shabbat! Eat pork! But don’t die. Nonetheless, there are three transgressions that one is required to sacrifice one’s life for and never transgress: idolatry (like Abraham who was thrown into the furnace for not agreeing to accept idolatry), prohibited relationships, and manslaughter.

More precisely, there are also times when it is required to sacrifice one’s life for any one of the mitzvot. This is the case when that particular mitzvah has become representative of the entire Torah and Jewish faith. For example, if a non-Jew commands a Jew to desecrate Shabbat, not because he has any need for him to do so, but just to cause him to transgress so that he can ridicule him and his faith – then that Jew should sacrifice his life rather than desecrate Shabbat (this refers to a situation in which the non-Jew has told him to do so in public in front of ten other Jews, but if it is a time when there is a public decree against Jews, then this is the case even if the situation takes place in private). As mentioned, this law is true with regard to all mitzvot, even the most lenient rabbinical regulation. It has no bearing on the severity of the forbidden action itself but relates to the fact that it has now become the hallmark of sanctifying God’s Name. In contrast, with reference to the three transgressions of idolatry, prohibited relationships, and manslaughter, the requirement for self-sacrifice is because of the severity of the transgression and not because of any special significance that is related to it at the time.

Provoking Jewish nature

After this concise introduction to the halachic background, we will meditate on the special formulation of the mitzvah to sanctify God’s Name, “I shall be sanctified among the children of Israel.” Grammatically speaking, the Torah usually formulates commands in the active form, as in the command to “love your fellow as yourself,” “tie them as a sign on your hand,” etc. but “I shall be sanctified” is in the passive form, describing the result of our action: God tells us that He will be sanctified among us. In fact, one might think that sanctifying God’s Name is not a commandment at all, but that if we do not desecrate God’s Name it automatically results in His sanctification. Nonetheless, the halachah clearly determines that this is a positive commandment just like all those that are formulated in the active form.

The fact that this commandment in particular is written in the passive form is profoundly significant. Every other mitzvah in the Torah is performed consciously and intentionally and not instinctively. But, the mitzvah of sanctifying God’s Name has a much deeper dimension, in that it is completely natural. Although practically speaking an individual may “sacrifice his soul” in a fully conscious and intentional manner, and one might think that he needs to “force himself” to do it, the deepest truth is that the ability to die for God’s Name stems entirely from his innate Jewish essence.

The Alter Rebbe explains that the source of the Jewish affinity for self-sacrifice to sanctify God’s Name does not lie in the conscious powers of our psyche. This becomes particularly obvious when we observe the phenomenon of self-sacrifice among those Jewish souls who, although considerably distant from Torah study and mitzvah observance, when they are forced to deny God or His Torah, are nevertheless prepared to die to sanctify God’s Name. Such Jews do not actively identify with the Torah and Jewish faith in any way through the rational, conscious powers of their souls, and all their thoughts, emotions and actions appear to be completely detached from Judaism. Yet, at the deepest level of our souls, at a point beyond our comprehension, every Jew nurtures an inseparable bond with God. Even an individual who is a sworn heretic in everyday life, in the innermost point of his Jewish soul he is actually a great believer (although he is totally unaware of it). Yet, this hidden power of faith, his true Jewish nature, comes to the fore when approached by an impending outside force that threatens its very existence.

Now we can understand why this particular mitzvah is written in the Torah in the passive form, “I shall be sanctified,” because self-sacrifice to sanctify God’s Name, more than any other mitzvah, reflects our essential nature as Jews. Therefore, even a conscious, intentional act of self-sacrifice is considered automatic and instinctive. Just as I breathe and eat to allow my physical body to survive―so my Jewish soul acts naturally to ensure its spiritual survival at moments of self-sacrifice.

Incidentally, since we have mentioned Jewish nature, we will emphasize that, “I will be sanctified within the Children of Israel” refers to Jews in particular. Indeed, the halachah is that non-Jews are commanded to observe the seven Noachide laws but are not commanded to sanctify God’s Name. For instance, if a righteous non-Jew (who is deeply respected in Jewish law and deserves a portion in the World to Come) would be forced to serve idolatry under threat of his life and he would ask us how to behave, we would tell him to do so (albeit superficially) and not sacrifice his life. Only a Jew is required to forfeit his life, because only a Jewish soul has that special “component” that connects him instinctively to the Almighty above all rational reasoning.

The consummate wholeness of the Torah, the Jewish people, and the land of Israel

Let’s now return to the three special mitzvot that we are commanded to sacrifice our lives for: idolatry, prohibited relationships, and manslaughter. This is one of many Jewish “triplets” in the Torah – beginning with the three Patriarchs and including the Torah which is a “threefold Torah” (containing Torah, Prophets, and Scriptures) which is given to a threefold people (priests, Levites, and Israelites) and many, many more. If we consider our current triplet carefully, we may immediately notice its similarity to another famous triplet: the Jewish People, the Torah, and the Land of Israel, each of which is defined by its requirement for consummate completeness, as Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, often emphasized.

Completeness refers to an entity that only manifests as a whole and dividing it into pieces can never suffice because the revelation of its essential nature is complete only if it includes all its details and components. Here is a simple example: if I have a whole loaf of bread I can definitely cut a slice out of it and eat it without jeopardizing the definition of the bread. But nobody would ever voluntarily surrender a part of his body―not even his baby toe―because this would have a devastating effect on his entire body. So too, and even more so, regarding the completeness of the three concepts of Torah, the Jewish people, and the land of Israel (in fact, the three together manifest an all-inclusive completeness):

We cannot relate to the Torah as a collection of ideas that can be accepted in part. The entire Torah―all the letters of the Torah scroll and all the 613 mitzvot together―constitutes a consummate whole and the foundation of Judaism is total acceptance of Heaven’s yoke and all the mitzvot of the Torah as a whole. Just as a Torah scroll that is missing even one letter is invalid, so a proselyte who wishes to convert to Judaism and accepts the entire Torah “except one minor aspect” cannot be accepted as a righteous convert. There is no half-Torah.

Regarding the Jewish people: all Jews are fused together like the limbs of one complete body; every Jew and Jewess is unique and essential to the whole, wherever they may be, and we can never forfeit even one of them.  The Giving of the Torah would not have been viable without the consummate wholeness of six-hundred-thousand Jewish souls (corresponding to the six-hundred-thousand letters of the Torah; each individual Jew with his own letter in the Torah) who stood at the foot of the mountain “as one man with one heart.”

Regarding the Land of Israel, there are those who mistakenly state that they love the Land of Israel and want the Jewish people to live here, but what do we need the entire land for? Someone who makes such a statement has not truly grasped the essence of the land of Israel, “a land which Havayah, your God supervises, the eyes of Havayah, your God are constantly on it,” which was given to the Jewish people in its entirety and we are not authorized to give away even the smallest part of it to a non-Jew.

True, sometimes for various reasons we are unable to observe the entire Torah; we cannot always reach out to every Jew; and there have been long periods in history when we have been unable to occupy the whole of the land. But we must realize that in essence, the Torah is complete, the Jewish people is complete, and the land of Israel is a complete entity.

These three “completenesses” appear to be related to the concept of self-sacrifice mentioned above. So, for instance, we must sacrifice our souls for every Jew, because we cannot forfeit the completeness of the Jewish people for anything in the world. But when we consider these three in greater detail, we can identify a beautiful correspondence between them and the three most severe transgressions:

The completeness of the Torah clearly corresponds to the prohibition against idolatry: the Ten Commandments begin with the commandment, “I am Havayah, your God… You shall have no other gods besides Me”; the entire Torah and all the mitzvot are the finer details of this general rule, as the commentaries write that all 248 positive commandments are included in the phrase, “I am Havayah, your God,” and all 365 prohibitive commandments are included in the commandment, “You shall have no other gods.” Thus, if someone is being coerced to commit an act that can be interpreted to be idolatrous, he should sacrifice his life, because this is not merely one detail of the Torah, but the entire Torah.

The completeness of the Jewish people corresponds to the prohibition against manslaughter. This correspondence is also quite straightforward, because manslaughter eradicates another Jewish soul. One particularly potent expression of the consummate wholeness of the Jewish people is in the halachah that states that if a non-Jew imposes a demand on a group of Jewish individuals to surrender one of the group to put him to death or else they will kill the entire group, God forbid, then the law is that “They should kill all of them but never surrender one Jewish soul”! At face value, the simple reasoning would be that it is better that one Jewish individual die than the entire group, but the halachah teaches us that every Jew is “an entire world” and we cannot do any act that will jeopardize the wholeness of the Jewish people, even if it involves paying such a high fee. Care of the continued existence of the Jewish people is in the competent hands of the Almighty, who commanded us to conduct ourselves in this manner.

Finally, the completeness of the land apparently corresponds to prohibited relationships, but how? In the previous parashot (Acharei-mot and Kedoshim) we saw that the Torah explicitly associates observing the laws of prohibited relationships with the right to settle the land of Israel, as the Torah states after enumerating the prohibited relationships, “For all these abominations were committed by the people of the land who preceded you and the land was defiled. But the land shall not vomit you out by you defiling it as it vomited out the nation that preceded you.” We can understand this special bond with the land through the recurring Biblical image of the bond between the Jewish people and the land of Israel as a husband-wife relationship, “As a young man marries a virgin, so your children will marry you.” At a deep level, transgressing the injunction against prohibited relationships means denying the possibility of a true, consummately whole relationship between man and wife with all its implications. Following this principle, the relationship between the Jewish people and the land of Israel must be understood as a relationship of consummate wholeness: the Jewish nation in its entirety living in the whole land of Israel. Just as the sanctity of married life can never allow two men to both have an autonomous relationship with one woman, so the land of Israel can never be divided by the formula of “two states for two people” – but it will always remain “one land for one people.” The entire Jewish nation must occupy the whole land of Israel following the laws of the Torah in its entirety.

This article is dedicated to the memory of our friend, the esteemed Rabbi Yaakov Yosef, zt”l, for who these three “wholenesses” were his guiding light

Rabbi Akiva said, “Love your fellow as yourself” is a great principle of the Torah. A similar principle is gleaned from the famous story of a proselyte who wished to convert to Judaism on condition that someone would teach him the entire Torah while standing on one foot. Hillel the Elder accepted his conversion and told him, “That which you hate, do not do to your friend [the negative picture of “love your fellow as yourself”]―that is all the Torah and all the rest is commentary. Go and study it.”

Obviously, the entire Torah is a true, God-given Torah, but Hillel the Elder and Rabbi Akiva teach us that there is room to meditate on the principle that is the Torah’s “great principle”; the signpost that puts us on the right track.

The need for such guiding lights is most necessary when an outsider wishes to approach the infinite sea of Torah and needs an anchor to show him where to begin. This is why the Torah’s greatest principle is learnt from a proselyte who comes to convert. A true convert is not obliged to know the entire Torah before he converts, but he does need to know the principal foundations of Jewish faith; then he can accept the yoke of Torah and mitzvot in all sincerity. Rabbi Akiva, that great Torah sage, also arrived at the Torah as an “outsider”; he was a ba’al teshuvah (secular Jew who becomes observant) who only began his Torah study at the age of forty.

These two “outsiders,” the ba’al teshuvah and the convert, who begin their Torah study from scratch at an advanced age, are in need of a short-cut strategy and it is our privilege to learn the Torah’s great principle through their merit. Our generation too is a generation of teshuvah (repentance); so many Jews are distant from the Torah and so many wish to return to their source. This is why, more than ever, we need a path that allows us to approach the Torah after years and generations of detachment and begin from a generalization that incorporates all the details and explanations. One example of such an approach is Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, who chose twelve noteworthy verses for the children’s movement of Tzivos Hashem (“God’s army”) that are good even for adults to learn and repeat them by heart on a regular basis.

Obviously, identifying the Torah’s principle philosophies is important for everyone, not only for those who are not yet competent in Torah study. Even the greatest Torah scholars and tzadikim need to identify them too. Yet, they do not have the same need to search for it as the “outsiders” mentioned above. They study the entire Torah and observe all 613 mitzvot and they can relate naturally to the great principle as a simple premise. When the proselyte demands that he be taught the entire Torah while standing on one foot, Hillel reveals the great principle whose light he follows and now we too can benefit from his previously hidden premise, which has now become part of the public domain. Now we too, as distant as we may be, can grasp hold of this principle and allow it to help us progress to the entire Torah.

Although sometimes a great sage may find it difficult to formulate his fundamental axioms in simple terms, someone as humble as Hillel has a ready answer which is most suitable for even the most distant, lowly individual – while standing on one foot.

Five general verses

Since we are occupied with general principles, we can try to discover additional principles in the Torah. The generalization of “Love your fellow as yourself” is not just an important principle in Torah conventions and mitzvah observance, but a verse from the Torah, and since the Torah is composed of five different books, perhaps we can identify five such principles.

Let’s meditate for a moment on the book of Genesis and consider the most famous and most general verse in the book. Naturally, the verse that immediately comes to mind is the first verse, “In the beginning, Elokim [God] created the heavens and the earth.” This is the verse that begins everything and it exemplifies the entire book of Genesis―the book of creation and the beginning of mankind―in one verse.

Let’s continue to the book of Exodus: here we are drawn to the first verse of the Ten Commandments: “I am Havayah, your God, who has brought you out of Egypt from the house of bondage.” This is the fundamental tenet of our faith that ties the Giving of the Torah to the Exodus from Egypt, which is the main point in the story of the book of Exodus.

When we reach the book of Leviticus, the middle book of the Torah, Rabbi Akiva has already done the work for us: “Love your fellow as yourself” is the great principle of this book. The passage that we choose from the book of Numbers contains all three verses of the Priestly Blessing, which we have the custom to read every morning after the blessings over the Torah, meaning that it is representative of the entire Written Torah. Finally, in the book of Deuteronomy our choice is simple: “Hear o’ Israel, Havayah is our God, Havayah is one.” This verse is the quintessential proclamation of Jewish faith, a verse that we say twice every day and the words that were on the lips of countless Jews as they were put to death to sanctify God’s Name as Jews.

Before delving into the significance of these five verses, let’s order them into a familiar structure: the total number of words in these five verses is forty-nine and we are immediately reminded of the forty-nine days during which we count the Omer. Thus, we can make ourselves an “Omer counting table” in which each word corresponds to one day―from the first day, representing “In the beginning” (בְּרֵאשִׁית) to the last day, representing “One” (אֶחָד).

This correspondence is particularly suitable because the inspiration for setting these verses as general verses is from Rabbi Akiva; a most prominent figure during the Counting of the Omer. It was during this period that Rabbi Akiva’s students died because they did not act respectfully towards one another (which is the reason why we observe certain mourning customs during this period). , Rabbi Akiva’s great principle: “Love your fellow as yourself,”―a verse which appears in Parashat Kedoshim, which is always read during the Omer period―is our principal service during the counting of the Omer; it comes as an antidote to rectify the sin of hatred and discord among Jews.

There are a number of noteworthy phenomena that can be gleaned from the table that we have just described, three of which we will mention here: a. the words “Love your fellow as yourself” (וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ) are located exactly in the center of the table at days 24, 25 and 26 of the Omer; the word “your fellow” (לְרֵעֲךָ) is the middle of the center! b. the word “Peace” (שָׁלוֹם) falls on 28th Iyar, the day on which we merited God’s miraculous heavenly assistance in returning to Jerusalem, the Holy City of Peace and to the Temple Mount (“The House of Peace”) forty-six years ago! c. the word “Israel” (יִשְׂרָאֵל) in the verse of the Shema, falls on the first day of Sivan, the day when the entire Jewish people camped before Mt. Sinai to receive the Torah, “as one man with one heart.”

Climbing up the ladder of the soul

Now we can meditate on the content of these five general verses, and we see that they follow a logical course on a single upward rise. In order to enrich our meditation, we will use a familiar Chassidic quintet of concepts that enumerates the five levels of our souls: “psyche,” “spirit,” “soul,” “living one,” “single one” (נֶפֶשׁ, רוּחַ, נְשָׁמָה, חַיָה, יְחִידָה).

·        The “psyche” (נֶפֶשׁ) is the basic level, the physical life-force that we experience in our body and in our instinctive actions, which is superficially reminiscent of an animal life-force.

·        The “spirit” (רוּחַ) expresses the world of emotions and manifests in our relationships with others, a level at which we can already identify the “advantage of man over animal.”

·        The “soul” (נְשָׁמָה) is the level that is expressed in our intellectual world. At the level of the “soul” we rise above the sensual-physical perspective and are able to think in abstract concepts (including, for example, the ability to derive a principle from a collection of details).

·        The “living one” (חַיָה) is on a higher plane that is completely beyond our conscious minds. This plane is referred to as, “surrounding light” (as opposed to the “psyche,” the “spirit” and the “soul,” which are “inner lights”) that is still close enough for us to sometimes become aware of its influence, as an “atmosphere” of sanctity that surrounds me and guides me to my path in life.

·        The “singular one” (יְחִידָה) is the source of the soul, the core point that eternally clings to its infinite source in God. The “singular one” is a “distant surrounding light,” that is revealed only at unique moments in life, such as moments of total self-sacrifice.

We can now meditate on the correspondence between our five verses and these five levels of the soul.

·        Genesis: “In the beginning, Elokim [God] created the heavens and the earth” should be my fundamental experience at the level of the psyche. God created the entire world, with mankind, the crowning glory of creation, included. God’s Essential Name, Havayah, does not yet appear here in this verse, only the Name Elokim (אֿלֹהִים), which depicts God as Creator and Director of nature [אֿלֹהִים has the same numerical value as “nature” (הַטֶבַע)]. At this basic level of the soul we only have a pale recognition that there is something above and beyond the natural world. This verse also indicates that my psyche is not perceived as something completely different from my body, as the psyche and the body correspond to the heavens and the earth mentioned in the verse, both created by the natural Divine power of Elokim. Just as the central theme of Genesis is the account of the Patriarchs’ lives while they are still perceived as a part of mankind in general before the Jewish people became a nation, so too my uniqueness as a Jew does not yet feature at the level of the psyche, which corresponds to the verse from Genesis.

·        Exodus: “I am Havayah, your God, who has brought you out of Egypt from the house of bondage.” This verse corresponds to the next highest level of “spirit” (רוּחַ), which rises above the basic life-force of the “psyche.” At this level we are conscious of the subjugation and constrictions of nature, while simultaneously being aware of the possibility of exodus and redemption from their constraints by a Divine power. This verse from the book of Exodus, which completely challenges the fundamental principles of nature, exposes us to the fact that the Jewish people are a different species altogether, “You have chosen us from all nations… and Your Great and Holy Name You have called upon us.” At the level of my psyche I experience myself as an individual who is separate and defined from all other people, but at this level the spirit dimension draws me towards social contact and a sense of “belonging.”  In Nisan, the month of redemption, every individual Jew is aroused to sense his belonging to the Jewish people and thus begins to progress towards God, his God.

·        Leviticus: “Do not take vengeance nor bear a grudge for your people, and love your fellow as yourself, I am Havayah.” This verse brings us to the level of the soul (נְשָׁמָה). After leaving the straits of Egypt, the Jewish people become aware of their existence as an entity that has the ability to defy the world of nature and that stands apart from the great global village of the nations. Together as a people we weave a very special relationship guided by this greatest principle of all. True, at a certain level we care about the entire world and all of mankind―we love all of God’s creations―but our special love for our “fellow” Jew is on a completely different plane. This is a love that rises above all of the differences between you and me, through the deep understanding that our souls are united at their source, which is why we are commanded to love the other literally, “as yourself.”

·        Numbers: the verses of the Priestly Blessing bring us to the level of the “living one.” Having now risen to the hidden levels that surround the soul, we reveal that after all the rungs that we have climbed so far, there is an additional level at which we are so close to God that He chooses us to be His messengers “to bless the Jewish people with love.” This means not just standing before God as His beloved children, but identifying with Him so much so that we have the ability to represent Him and bring His blessing to the world. Although the power of blessing in practice is granted only to the kohanim (priests), nonetheless the kohanim themselves do this by the power of the entire Jewish people; we appoint them to be God’s messengers to bless us all. The entire Jewish people is a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”

·        Deuteronomy: finally, we come to the verse, “Hear o’ Israel, Havayah is our God, Havayah is one.” This verse from Deuteronomy is the revelation of the highest level of the soul, the “singular one” (יְחִידָה). We constantly proclaim God’s unity, but only the “singular one” of our souls can truly perceive how God is truly singular and how much the entire world is annulled and included within His Divine unity. This is the message that we receive from the entire book of Deuteronomy, which prepares us to enter the Land of Israel, a message that tells us: now, as you are about to begin “normal life” as a people in its land, you must remember well that you did not come here just to be a “free nation in our land” but to be God’s people, who testify to His unity through daily self-sacrifice in our everyday lives, and this knowledge is your raison d’être.

To conclude, we will recall that the pivot point of all five verses and the greatest principle of all is “love your fellow as yourself”; the connection of all our Jewish souls together in love. This is the heart of our being from which the levels of the psyche and the spirit are derived and from which we soar upwards to the levels of the living one and the singular one. The ultimate Torah principle is never to forget your fellow Jew!

This article is based on our book Klal Gadol Batorah (in Hebrew) that is dedicated in its entirety to this meditation

In the parashot of Tazria-Metzora we learn about the disease of tzara’at (Biblical leprosy) and how the individual suffering from it is purified. Although nowadays we have no way to actively observe the laws of tzara’at, nonetheless, the Ba’al Shem Tov taught us that every word of Torah has a practical application for every individual, at every location and at all times.

This being the case, let’s meditate on one interesting point. The Torah enumerates various types of tzara’at, “When an individual has a blister, or a rash or a bright spot,” the primary sign of impurity being that the skin lesion is white (as Rashi explains that each of these three types of tzara’at is whiter than the preceding type). The sages explain that there are in fact four types of “lesion appearances”: a “blister” (שְׂאֵת), or a “bright spot” (בַּהֶרֶת), an “inflamed blister” (סַפַּחַת הַשְׂאֵת)” or an “inflamed bright spot” (סַפַּחַת הַבַּהֶרֶת). The difference between these four types is in the specific shade of the lesion: the “bright spot” is “strong as snow,” the “blister” is “like white wool,” “an inflamed bright spot” is “like the chalk of the Hall” and an “inflamed blister” is like an “egg’s membrane.” These four shades from dazzling white to matt white are reminiscent of a modern paint catalog in which one can find an amazing wealth of shades in white alone.

Skilled in theory

But what is the significance of the differences between these four types of lesion in Jewish law? Rambam (Maimonides) writes, “These four lesions all participate with one another, either to be lenient or to be strict… How? A lesion that is totally as white as snow or like the chalk of the Hall or like clean wool or like an egg’s membrane is the same as a lesion that is white somewhat like the look of a bright spot and somewhat like the look of a blister and somewhat like an inflammation – all of them are considered the same.” This means that in actual fact, there is no difference between the four types; the appearance of the lesion can be in any one of these shades or a mixture of any of them in order to conclude that the lesion is impure.

In that case, why should we need to distinguish between the different shades? Rambam continues, “If so, why did the sages enumerate them? … in order to understand the appearance: any kohen (priest) who does not know the appearances and their names, when they teach him and inform him – he will not see the lesion until he understands and knows and can say, this is a bright spot and this is its inflammation, this is a blister and this is its inflammation.” Meaning, that even though there is no practical application to the distinction between the four types of lesion, nonetheless, the kohen must know how to distinguish between them! This is a very unusual law, perhaps we can even say that it is somewhat bizarre: in order to diagnose tzara’at in practice and to proclaim whether a lesion is pure or impure, the kohen must be skilled in definitions that have no practical application!

Pure Torah wisdom

At first glance, all this seems to be enigmatic, especially in the eyes of realists who have a practical approach to life. A car mechanic or a computer technician could justifiably protest: If the color of the parts that I use makes no difference and I could achieve the same results even if I was color-blind, then why do I need specialized training in information that is of no practical use whatsoever?

The reason is that the Torah’s wisdom cannot be measured only by its practical applications. The Torah has essential value that is independent of its expediency. One might ask the thousands of yeshivah students who study Torah every day or the many men who study the daf-yomi (the daily page of Talmud) whether all that they learn has direct practical applicability, but the reply will be: absolutely not! The Talmud contains myriads of topics, pages and pages of long and detailed discussions about hypothetical situations that have no reasonable chance of ever becoming a practical query. Jewish sages throughout the ages have racked their brains over these topics in all seriousness to the extent that there are even practical conclusions that state what the law would be in such a case, even though it is quite clear that this law will never be applied in practice! In effect, it would seem that the Yiddisher kopf (“Jewish mind”) takes great pleasure in dealing with abstract ideas that are far-removed from the world of action… But, what do we need them for?

The inner dimension of the Torah explains that when we study Torah we are constantly occupied with actual reality. Just as our physical world seems to be tangible and real, so there are other spiritual worlds that are no less real (similar to the “many worlds” theory of modern science). The truth is that those laws that have no expression in the physical world that our eyes perceive do actually describe a reality that is tangible in the higher worlds (which the inner dimension of the Torah deals with in detail).

The true perspective on the Torah is from above: the Torah is primarily pure wisdom that deals with a higher realm of truth, literally God’s own wisdom, after which this truth receives a practical garb in our world. Even a topic that deals with very material subjects, such as “a bull that gored a cow,” has its source in a much higher world in which a bull and a cow are symbolic of certain spiritual qualities, which “descend” until they reach tangible expression in our world as a real-live bull and cow.

Obviously, this does not mean that we should underrate the importance of our physical actions in this world. The Torah cannot remain in the abstract world alone while we neglect the physical world: “Studying Talmud is great, for it motivates action,” and “the main thing is action” (as the Lubavitcher Rebbe would often stress). But, it is also important to recognize the essential significance of the Torah and of Torah study even when it remains within the walls of the study hall.

Theory is important in practice

Quite probably, almost every Jew who studies Torah can appreciate the importance of studying Torah even when it has no practical application. But, the abovementioned law pertaining to tzara’at reveals a much deeper level: the great secret of the Torah is that in order to reach a practical halachic conclusion one must be familiar with those abstract definitions that have no practical application!

This means that even the most abstract Torah topic actually becomes practical Jewish law, because, if you want to come to a practical conclusion, you must also specialize in abstract definitions! One might say that we need two degrees in Torah: a first degree in theory and a second degree in practical applications. If in theory there is significance to the distinction between dazzling white and matt white, you must acquire this knowledge and know how to correctly name the lesion and only then deal with the external details that pertain directly to the halachic decision (such as the size of the lesion, etc.) Although we are unaware of what exactly about the diagnosis of the lesion’s color and its name is pertinent, nonetheless, we know that following Rambam’s ruling, in principle there is decisive significance to the essential definition, so much so that someone who does not understand it cannot assert whether it is “pure” or “impure.” In fact, at some profound level even those fundamental definitions that appear to be detached from reality do actually have some influence on the practical diagnosis.

Between father and mother

In Kabbalistic terminology, the Holy Arizal said that tzara’at is a result of “the withdrawal of the light of the father principle.” “The father principle” is the light of the sefirah of wisdom, which is referred to as “father,” as opposed to the sefirah of understanding, which is called, “mother.” Wisdom is the point of pure intellect and understanding takes hold of this initial point and develops it into a more tangible realm. The soul root of individuals who tend towards purely intellectual study stems from the sefirah of wisdom, while the soul root of individuals with a more realistic attitude stems more from understanding.

These concepts of “father” and “mother” are related to our regular familial association of the two terms: the father figure defines the essence and the principles of the entire family. He represents the tendency towards wisdom, the occupation with wisdom for wisdom’s sake. The mother figure represents practical wisdom, the “additional understanding” that is given to women and the talent to understand how reality functions in practice.

Since tzara’at is a result of a withdrawal of wisdom, it indicates an exaggerated tendency toward the practical side of the Torah and negligence of the pure and theoretical side of Torah wisdom. From here we can understand why the special law that demands that the kohen be well-versed even in the entirely theoretical side of the Torah is so pertinent here – because tzara’at itself stems from the withdrawal of wisdom. Therefore, in order to identify it and heal it, one must be particularly aware of the intricacies of wisdom!

More profoundly, theoretical wisdom can already be identified in the crown, the super-conscious power of the soul (which motivates the conscious). In Kabbalistic language, the sefirah of crown has two “persona”: the “Elder of Days” (עַתִיק יוֹמִין) and “the Long Countenance” (אֲרִיךְ אַנְפִּין). Chassidut explains that the inner essence of “the Elder of Days” is the power of spiritual pleasure in the soul, which motivates us to love life (super-consciously – in direct contrast to the sensualistic “pleasure principle” of modern psychology). The inner essence of “the Long Countenance” is the power of will in the soul. Will is more practically oriented and therefore manifests as the practical wisdom of the sefirah of understanding, while pleasure is “simple pleasure” that manifests as the pure intellect of the sefirah of wisdom. Indeed, rectifying tzara’at or a “plague” (נֶגַע) is actually by turning it into “pleasure” (עֹנֶג), which is a permutation of the same letters. Now it is clear why the lesion must be assessed through the eyes of pure intellect, because theoretical knowledge arouses the power of pure pleasure in the soul. This is the duty of the kohen, the “man of loving-kindness,” whose task is to instill love and pleasure among people.

Individual and communal healing

The way tzara’at is healed teaches us how to heal the soul. Knowing how to truly heal emotional illness involves more than is apparent on the direct practical plane. The higher the levels of the soul that one is able to access, including innermost dimensions that may appear to be detached from the actual physical symptoms, the lower one can descend into the simple practical world to cure the individual’s pain.

From the individual we reach society as a whole: it is our desire to find a cure that will rectify the current situation of the Jewish people and of the world in its entirety, beginning with rectifying Jewish society and Jewish politics here in the Holy Land. To achieve this, it does not suffice to look at the mundane dimension alone; we need to know how to analyze the roots of reality, to expose the various diseases and name them correctly, down to the minutest details of the various shades of white. Once we have achieved this it will be possible to attain true rectification, with God’s help, then as Chassidut teaches, we can transform plague (נֶגַע) into pleasure (עֹנֶג).

From Rabbi Ginsburgh’s class, 27^th Adar 5768