Korach: Rav Kook in the Weekly Portion - A Life of Wealth and Honor

by Rav Yehoshua Ze'ev Hass, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Every fourth or fifth Sabbath, we recite a special synagogue prayer for the upcoming month, as formulated by the Talmudic Sage named Rav, and as recorded in Tractate B'rachot p. 16b. Among the list of requests we make for the content of our lives in the upcoming month we ask for a "life of wealth and honor." Really? Is this what we strive for when we stand at the gate of a new month with its endless spiritual possibilities?

It appears that, just as Rabbi Judah HaLevy taught us in his 12th-century classic work HaKuzari, "G-d's Torah does not burden us with asceticism or withdrawal from the world. Rather, it guides us to a balanced path…" That is to say: The Torah grants us the knowledge of the principle that everything in the world, both tribulations and acquisitions, can be used to help a person to achieve positive objectives, or the opposite.

Just prior to the request for "wealth and honor" in the above-mentioned prayer, we ask for "life in which there is no shame or disgrace." Rav Kook explains this request, in his work Ein Ayah on B'rachot 16b, as follows: "Yes, mortal man has natural deficiencies connected with his physicality, but his activities [we pray] can all be given to perfection."

That is, our prayer is that we should be able to act throughout our lives in such a manner that our actions will stem from our spiritual, complete side, and not from our material and physical lusts that are out of sync with our inner inclinations and natural spiritual stature.

This helps us understand that when we pray for "wealth and honor," this comes on the heels of our request for a life of spiritual actions - meaning that we wish our wealth to serve us only for good things. As Rav Kook explained there: "There is a type of wealth that removes true honor from he who has that wealth, because by raising his heart and making him arrogant, it distracts and removes his heart from the true wholeness. We thus ask in this prayer that our wealth should always be accompanied by true honor, i.e., completeness of soul."

With this we can understand the story of Koraḥ in our weekly portion (Bamidbar 16-18). The Sages tell us of some strong contrasts in Koraḥ's personality. The Talmud speaks of "wealth that is reserved for its owner to his detriment" – and Koraḥ is a prime example. For instance, it is said that his wealth was so great that a caravan of 300 mules was required just to transport the keys to his treasure house! This exaggerated account is taught simply to tell us that Koraḥ's entire purpose in amassing wealth was simply to accrue power. Just as mules are sterile with no descendants to perpetuate them, those whose wealth is simply for the sake of power have no deeds of kindness to count to their credit.

Koraḥ is no Moshe!
The way in which Koraḥ is depicted is not that of a leader like Moshe Rabbeinu, who truly feels his brethren's pain at being enslaved and who goes out to them (Sh'mot 2,11). It is rather the description of a man who is involved only in his own affairs and in momentary enjoyments that leave no trace after them. Our Sages ask: "Koraḥ was so intelligent; why then did he get involved in this foolishness of fomenting rebellion against Moshe and Aharon?" The answer is given: "His eyes tricked him." That is, he allowed his egocentricity to mislead him.

The Medrash Rabba (Bamidbar Rabba 22,6) further states: "There were two very rich men in history – one from Israel, and one from the nations of the world: Koraḥ and Haman, and both were lost from the world. Why? Because their wealth was not a gift from G-; they rather snatched it for themselves."

Koraḥ's behavior is the opposite of the direction that the world was created to take: "A world of kindness was created" (Psalms 89,3) – and that is why the earth was so "shocked" at Koraḥ's behavior that it "opened its mouth" (Bamidbar 16,32) to swallow him and his mutinous cohorts.

Koraḥ had "rallied the entire congregation against" Moshe and Aharon (16,19), using the wealth he had amassed from Yosef's treasures to influence the people, while seeking to get rid of Moshe and Aharon – and precisely then, just in time, "G-d's glory became visible to the entire community" (ibid.).

The goal of the Sages was to teach us the true value of wealth, and they therefore weaved around Koraḥ's wealth these various Aggadic accounts. Their common thread is the terrible calamity that comes about when one is detached from the direction that the Divine seeks to take – the route that perpetually connects man to that which is eternal.

Shlach: Speaking Ill of Stones and the Divine Plan

by Rav Hillel Fendel.

Apropos speaking ill of the Land of Israel, as related in this week's Torah portion of Sh'lach (Bamidbar 13-15), the following parable was told by Rav Tzvi Yehuda Kook, son of HaRav Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook. It is relevant to both the 12 Spies of the Torah portion, and to a shrinking minority of certain Jews today:

There was a young beautiful girl of fine traits who lived in a European shtetl, and when she came of age, her parents began receiving offers of marriage for her. One prospective suitor appeared to have certain merits, in terms of status, wealth, and even Torah knowledge, but the girl had heard that his character was questionable. She therefore refused to even meet him. Her father begged her not to embarrass the man, as well as those who had put in efforts to make the match, and asked that she meet him at least once. She finally agreed, and when the time came, and the suitor arrived at her house, she made her appearance wearing a shabby housedress and old slippers, wearing no makeup and with unbrushed hair. The man took one look at her and quickly left, making sure to tell everyone why he could never even consider such a woman for his bride. Rav Tzvi Yehuda concluded, "He thought he had rejected her, but in actuality, it was she who rejected him – and he was simply unable to see her beauty and fine traits." 

It is the same with the Land of Israel, the Rav concluded: Not everyone can see the beauty and spiritual virtue of the Land of Israel, but they would be best to realize that the fault lies with them, not with the Land.

This week's Torah portion tells the tragic story of the Twelve Spies – leading members of Israel who were sent on a holy mission to scout out the Holy Land in preparation for the nation's homecoming, but ended up discouraging the people from wanting to enter instead.

How did they discourage the people? They simply spoke of the Land in mostly negative terms, and provided a disheartening military report as well. This was a form of lashon hara [evil-tongued speech]. On the verse, "The men who spoke disparagingly of the Land – died in a plague before G-d" (Bamidbar 14,37), the Talmud tells us:  

"Come and learn, from the Spies, how great is the [negative] power of lashon hara: If one who simply speaks evilly of rocks and trees is punished in this way [with death], how much more so is one who speaks evilly about a person." (Tr. Arachin 15b)

Also Rocks and Wood? 

Clearly, speaking not nicely about people is very bad – but could that be true even for speaking nicely about rocks and trees?! How can that be a sin?

The work Yere'im (by R. Elizer of Mitz, one of the Baalei Tosafot) says that indeed it is forbidden to speak badly of physical items, and the Chafetz Chaim, in his famous work on lashon hara, also cites this law. Both of them provide examples, from which we learn that the prohibition is not "blind," but rather applies when there is a reason. 

The Shopkeeper

The Chafetz Chaim's example is this: "One must not speak ill of items, for instance, a shopkeeper may not speak ill of his competitor's merchandise." This is clearly in a case where the speaker is showing the ruinous trait of jealousy, or he is seeking profit at the unfair expense of his competitor. 

The Disparaged Gift

The Yere'im, however, gives a different example (according to some versions). He writes, "One must not speak ill of inanimate items – for instance, if one wants to give a gift to his friend, someone else must not criticize the gift with lies." It is fascinating to note that not only is this not exactly the most straightforward example that could have been given for criticizing an object – but it is also very, very similar to the Sin of the Spies! 

The spies, after all, were the agents of Moshe, and of G-d, to facilitate the gifting of Eretz Yisrael to the Jewish People – and yet they sabotaged the idea by seeing, and saying, only bad even regarding the Land's blessings. For instance, they saw giant, luscious fruits, which they brought back to the people to prove that the fruits of the land were "strange."

What the Examples Teach

Just as we must learn from the Chafetz Chaim's example the specific negative traits – jealousy, taking unfair advantage – that are evident in the lashon hara that can be told about an item, we must do the same with the Yere'im's unusual example. And that is: not to destroy, via lashon hara, a close relationship between one who gives and one who receives – or between any two people.

Furthermore: What else did the Spies' evil speech target, in addition to the close relationship between G-d and Israel? The answer: Everything! Their report to the People of Israel was a blatant mockery and disregard for the Historical Divine Plan, according to which Israel would inherit the land of G-d and from there teach and fill the entire world with spirituality and goodness.

G-d began the Torah, practically, by telling the Patriarch Avraham (B'reshit 12,1-3): "Go forth from your land… to the land that I will show you. And [there] I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you… And I will bless those who bless you… and all the families of the earth shall be blessed by you."  And yet, the Spies, when they had the chance to take a major first step towards the implementation of this Plan, they essentially shrugged their shoulders and said, "Naah, we'll pass." 

And so, although the Gemara implies, at first glance, that the Sin of the Scouts was a simple case of lashon hara, we see, with some kick-start help from the Yerei'm, that the sin was actually oh-so-much more momentous.

But all was not lost; in the end, the words of the "other" two scouts, Joshua and Caleb, came true for us (Bamidbar 14,8): "G-d will bring us into this land and give it to us, a land flowing with milk and honey!" 

And may we always merit to be blessed not just to see Jerusalem, but to "see the goodness of Jerusalem" (Psalms 128,5).

Beha'alotkha: The Menorah and the Flat Tire

by Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtat, founder and head of the Yoru Program for the Training of Rabbis and Community Leaders , yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The first verse in this week's Torah reading of Beha'alotkha (Bamidbar 8-12) relates to the Menorah in the Tabernacle: G-d told Moshe, "Speak to Aharon and tell him, when you kindle – raise up – the lamps, towards the face of the Menorah the seven lamps shall illuminate."

The Medrash (Bamidbar Rabba 15,4) teaches that Moshe was charged with building the Menorah, but he had great difficulty doing so: Not only was it be adorned with various golden flowers and other decorations, it all had to be sculpted out of one block of gold. Therefore the Torah tells us that G-d first showed him precisely how to do it – "And this was how the Menorah is made" (verse 4) – and even then, caused it to emerge miraculously from the gold. That is, after G-d commanded Moshe in Sh'mot 25,31, "Make a Menorah out of pure gold," the Torah immediately continues, "the Menorah shall be formed…"

Why would G-d command Moshe to do something that he cannot do? In the end, Moshe simply threw the gold block into the fire and the Menorah came out ready-made. Here in Bamidbar we read in the above-cited verse 4 that Moshe made it, when in fact the Medrash teaches that G-d made it. How can we explain this?

On the verse in Tehillim “For you light My lamp” (18,29), the Medrash teaches:

 Israel said before the Holy One blessed be He:‘Master of the universe, You say that we should illuminate before You? You are the light of the world, and light resides with You [see Daniel 2,22]! So why do You say: “Toward the front of the Menorah the seven lamps shall illuminate" (Bamidbar 8,2)? …

'It is not that I need you, but rather that you shall illuminate for Me in order to elevate you before the nations, so that they will say: See how Israel illuminates for the One who illuminates for the entire world!'

This is not at all clear. The Gentiles are supposed to think highly of Israel for thinking that they can illuminate the way for G-d?! Believing something so seemingly foolish, that G-d needs them to light His way – how can that raise Israel's prestige in the eyes of the nations?!

To answer this, we must continue reading the Medrash, which states:

This is like a sighted man and a blind man who were walking along the way. The sighted man said to the blind man: ‘When we enter the house, kindle this lamp and shine it for me.’ The blind man was puzzled: 'Until now you supported me, and now you ask me to shine the light for you?'

The sighted man said, ‘It is so that you will not be beholden to me for having accompanied you along the way.'

The Medrash likens G-d to one who is sighted, as is written, "G-d's eyes roam the entire earth" (Zechariah 4,10), while Israel is likened to a blind man, as is written about Israel when it sinned, "We grope like the blind along a wall" (Yeshayahu 59,10). G-d wished Israel to light the Menorah, using the word for "raise up," as in the verse [with which we began above], "… when you raise up the lamps…" – so that this will raise up Israel's honor, for G-d wished to show them honor in this way.

Let us elaborate. There are three levels of "giving," and via this mitzvah of lighting the Menorah, G-d teaches us how to reach the highest of the three. The three levels are:

1. One who gives sourly and unhappily, such that although the recipient receives, his experience is one of bitterness and being put down.

2. One who gives with a bright countenance, about whom R. Yochanan teaches allegorically [Tr. Ketuvot 111b]: "One who shows the whiteness of his teeth to his friend [i.e., smiles at him], is better than one who gives him actual milk to drink, as can be derived from [B'reshit 49,12]. "Furthermore, in Avot D'Rabbe Natan we learn that one who greets his friend happily is as one who gave him all the gifts in the world, even if he gave him nothing physical. This is a very high level of giving – but it is not perfect, for the recipient still has a feeling of shame that he received something for nothing, "bread of shame;" he feels "shackled with thanks," as the Hebrew phrase has it: Asir todah, totally indebted.

3. The third level of giving, then, is where there is "mutuality." That is, after one gives something to another person, needy or otherwise, he should ask him to do him a favor as well, even if he does not really need it. This will prevent the recipient from feeling any embarrassment; instead he will feel, "It's not just me who is needy; we help each other!"

This is what the Medrash is referring to: Hashem asks Israel, so to speak, to illuminate the way, so that they can feel, even to a small degree, that there is something that they can do for Him as well. [This of course has not only symbolic value; in the covenant that G-d has forged with Israel, we also have obligations towards Him, namely, to keep His commandments.]

This of course also explains why G-d commanded Moshe to construct the Menorah, even though this was beyond his ability. The message was: "If someone wants to do something, give him the feeling that what he is doing has value, even if this is not quite the case. The Torah states: "The way that G-d showed Moshe to do, this is how he did the Menorah"(Bamidbar 8,4) – even though in actuality, it was G-d Who made it.

I recall that a few years ago I was in a pancheria [a place where flat tires are repaired] in Eilat. The owner's father was there as well, an older man who did not have full use of his faculties. He walked around, moved tires from place to place, and basically did nothing particularly useful, and sometimes even the opposite – but his son, the boss, made him feel that he was important. From time to time he would ask his father to return a tire to its place, or something similar, and he did in a very respectful manner, giving his father the sense that he was still useful.

This is the message that we learn from the way Moshe "made" the Menorah.

Nasso: The Land of Israel's Special Light, as Reflected in the Priestly Blessing

by Rav Moshe Tzuriel ZT"L, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Ashreinu – how fortunate we are, the residents of the Land of Israel, who get to fulfill the mitzvah of the Priestly Blessing (Bamidbar 6, 22-27) every single day, and sometimes twice! Outside the Land, this mitzvah is fulfilled only on the festivals and the High Holidays. It is hard to understand why this is so.

We read in the above verses that via the Priestly Blessing, the priests "place My Name upon the Children of Israel and I will bless them." That is, the priests bless Israel, and G-d gives his consent (Tr. Hullin 49a). Elsewhere, the Gemara even adds (Tr. Sotah 38a) that G-d very strongly desires the Priestly Blessing!

Given the great value and importance, for us and for G-d, of the Priestly Blessing, why do we barely perform it outside Eretz Yisrael?

Many answers have been offered over the past several centuries, but most of them can be easily challenged. For instance, the Rama (Shulchan Arukh O.C. 128,44) says that the Jews in medieval times were "very troubled with thoughts of making a living" and the like, "and even on Festivals, they only recite the Blessing in Mussaf when they are about to leave for home and for the joy of the Festivals."

In the Land of Israel's Galilee area, the Diaspora custom in this matter was perpetuated in most areas, except that they said the Priestly Blessing also during Mussaf on the Sabbath. This was because this was basically the custom of the students of the Baal Shem Tov who came to the Galilee and continued their practice.

The students of the Vilna Gaon, however, who came to the Land and settled in Jerusalem, made sure to recite the Blessing every day; and the Sephardim recited the Priestly Blessing throughout the Land, as noted by the Beit Yosef (Rav Yosef Karo, author of the Shulchan Arukh).

Rav She'ar Yashuv Cohen, long-time Chief Rabbi of Haifa and son of the famed Nazir, Rav David Cohen, long attempted to change the custom in Haifa and environs and restore the Priestly Blessing to its honored place – but largely to no avail. In an article in Volume 2 of Techumin in 1981, he collected several explanations as to why the Cohanim in the Galilee do not recite the Blessing, but they are all weak.

The Missing Joy

Let us concentrate on one aspect of the various explanations, which will highlight one of the great virtues of the Jews living in Eretz Yisrael. The Rama cited a custom that unmarried Cohanim do not recite the Priestly Blessing because, as the Gemara states (Tr. Yevamot 62b), they are "without happiness."

Yitzchak, Too
The Maharam Ben-Baruch notes, in this vein, that when our Patriarch Yitzchak wished to bless his son Esav, he asked him to first prepare a special meal that would bring him joy – because "without joy, how can I give a blessing?" We thus see that the Priests who bless the nation must do so not simply as a form of lip service, but rather with true joy.

A student of the Rama, known as the L'vush, wrote in kind: "Even though the Priests should by rights bless the people every day… the custom is to do so only on Festivals, which are days of happiness and good-heartedness. Even on the Sabbath they do not bless, because they are troubled by thoughts of making a living, etc."

No Yoke

Another aspect of the joy of being in Eretz Yisrael is noted by the Beit Efraim: "The Jews of the Land did not bear the yoke of the Exiles as did their brethren in the Diaspora, where they were scattered and banished throughout the generations from city to city and land to land, and they had no peace of mind."

Various Torah giants wrote clearly regarding the difference between the atmosphere of service of G-d abroad and that of Eretz Yisrael. The Shem MiShmuel explained: "The difference is that in the Land of Israel, the service is with love and devotion, like the [atmosphere of] Sabbath, while in the Diaspora the service is more of sur mera, trying to avoid the negative; they engage in compulsiveness and self-flagellation in trying to force the acceptance of holiness, as if it were against their nature."

And so too wrote Rav Kook: "In the Land of Israel, one can draw out the joy of holiness even from the place of the joy, but outside the Land, this cannot be done, because of the strength of the forces of strict judgement there" (Orot HaKodesh vol. III, p. 187).

In the Land, Joy is First
The Sfat Emet (Re'eh 5661) holds that "in the Diaspora, the primary element is fear of G-d, which then leads to joy. But in the Land, joy is the main thing, and from it we merit to have fear and awe… In the Land of Israel and in the Temple, the nation merited light of the soul…; the service of joy is that of the soul, while that of the body is fear/awe."

The Vilna Gaon said that if he only could, he would suspend his Torah learning and prayer and wander from place to place to institute the Priestly Blessing every day. He said that the Blessing includes and alludes to the seven basic elements of all blessing: wisdom, wealth, long life, finding favor in the eyes of men, ability to influence other, descendants, and peace.

How much great light is encapsulated in this special mitzvah, in which G-d turns to us and lights the way for all blessing. Let us concentrate when we fulfill it – both those who bless and those who are blessed. We must also recognize our great fortune in living here in the Land where we merit to fulfill it every day!