In the parsha of tzitzis: וְהָיָה לָכֶם, לְצִיצִת, וּרְאִיתֶם אֹתוֹ וּזְכַרְתֶּם אֶת-כָּל-מִצְו‍ֹת ה’, וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֹתָם; וְלֹא-תָתוּרוּ אַחֲרֵי לְבַבְכֶם, וְאַחֲרֵי עֵינֵיכֶם – You will wear these tzitzis. When you see them, you will be reminded of all God’s commands, and you’ll do them – and you won’t stray after your hearts and eyes. (15:39)

Beyond the obvious implication of not dwelling on inappropriate sights, the Sfas Emes teaches that this ties in to the beginning of the parsha, with the spies. This charges us to not to be led astray by appearances, one of many of that generations mistakes וְלֹא -תָתוּרוּ אַחֲרֵי לְבַבְכֶם, וְאַחֲרֵי עֵינֵיכֶם – our eyes and hearts literally “scout” for us, and we are not to be led astray.

What if their worst fears had been confirmed, and they indeed faced a land inhabited by hordes of strong, ruthless, well armed, well trained men? Would Hashems assurances have meant less than if they had no knowledge of the matter?

The Sfas Emes points out how taking things as they appear is a character flaw that is caused by a deficiency in faith and trust. If they had truly believed and trusted Hashem, this episode could not have taken place. This why the very next verse לְמַעַן תִּזְכְּרוּ, וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֶת-כָּל-מִצְו‍ֹתָי – not “remind yourself” so much as “never forget” – by internalisation. Never lose sight of the bigger picture.

When Ahron was instructed to light the Menora, we find that the Torah emphasises something seemingly out of place:

דַּבֵּר, אֶל-אַהֲרֹן, וְאָמַרְתָּ, אֵלָיו: בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ, אֶת-הַנֵּרֹת, אֶל-מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה, יָאִירוּ שִׁבְעַת הַנֵּרוֹת. וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן, אַהֲרֹן–אֶל-מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה, הֶעֱלָה נֵרֹתֶיהָ: כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה יְהוָה, אֶת-מֹשֶׁה – Speak to Ahron, and say to him; “When you rise to kindle the lights on the Menora, light seven,”. And Ahron did so; he lit the candles on the Menora, just as Hashem had commanded Moshe. (8:2-3)

Rashi picks up on how וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן, that the person commanded did what they were meant to, is not regularly found in the Torah. Rashi explains that this is to tell the praise of Ahron, which the Sfas Emes teaches to mean that Ahron was meticulous to light the Menora every day himself, when in fact, it could have been done by any member of his family. That is to say, he retained his initial enthusiasm for the mitzva his entire life – וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן.

Later in the parsha, we find this lesson lost:

וַיִּסְעוּ מֵהַר ה’ דֶּרֶךְ שְׁלֹשֶׁת יָמִים – They travelled from the mountain of God a three-day journey. (10:33)

The Gemara in Shabbos 116a teaches that this verse is an allusion to the Jews straying from their relationship with Hashem. They literally left where God was. Rashi writes that it was within those three days that they cultivated their craving for meat. The Ramban writes that their attitude in leaving their encampment at Sinai was like “a child running out of school.” That is to say, they left Mount Sinai – the place where they were exposed to the Torah – in excitement that the “class” was over.

The Chasam Sofer explains that had Klall Yisrael not thrown off the yolk of Torah and fled “like a child running out of school,” they never would have developed their infamous craving for meat. As the Mishna in Avos 3:5 says: “Whoever throws off the yoke of Torah, they place the yoke of drech eretz upon him.” Derech eretz here refers to physical desires.

This catalysed an unfortunate chain of events. The Jews were supposed to go straight from receiving the Torah into Eretz Yisrael. Yet, because of the attitude with which they left Mount Sinai, they developed their craving for meat. Because of their craving for meat, they were delayed for 30 days while many fell dead. This delay allowed the opportunity for Miriam to slander Moshe, causing a further delay of seven days while waiting for her purification. The episode of the spies followed, as Rashi teaches, based on the juxtaposition of the episodes of Miriam next to the episode of the spies; due to which the fate of that generation was sealed. They were to die out over the course of the next 40 years, never to reach Eretz Yisrael. It was during that time that Moshe Rabbeinu himself was denied the opportunity to enter Eretz Yisrael because of the incident where he hit the rock. Had Moshe Rabbeinu entered Eretz Yisrael, there never would have been a destruction of the Holy Temple, and the ensuing exile. History could have been drastically different.

What is clear from this is that Judaism is not only about learning Torah and doing mitzvos, regardless of one’s intentions and attitude. Chovos halevavos, duties of the heart and spirit, are critical. This point is especially important to those learning in yeshiva in a “zman,” or semester, format. Usually around this time in the zman one’s mind can wander to the summer plans and the thought “When will this be over already?” can surface. We need to take this message which these parshios are teaching us to heart. It is because this very attitude that we live here in galus all these years later.

We need to retain the state of וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן.

There is a dichotomy regarding the Matza on Pesach. Is it poor man’s bread, indicative of slavery; or is it because of the redemption, that they were freed before they had time to prepare bread?

The Sfas Emes explains that we cannot celebrate being freed from Egypt on it’s own; we must celebrate the fact we were enslaved as well. If we were capable of being a nation that could serve Hashem in freedom initially, we need not have been enslaved, and if we could serve Hashem in slavery, we weren’t in need of rescue. So being enslaved in Egypt was a key part of the process through which we became Hashem’s people.

What transition took place in Egypt that created a nation capable of serving God?

The Sfas Emes explains by being in crushing slavery, the people were far beyond their comfort zones, and pushed way past the extremes of what they thought they were capable of. This was a life lesson to the people that the arrogance and ego of man could be removed, and a person could devote his entire being to something. This was a key stage in becoming Hashem’s servants – the people knew what it meant to give their all; which would not have been the same thing without the ravages of slavery.

The Sfas Emes explains that this is what all evils and adversity in life are for – they educate us about our limits, and more than that, they show us the opposite extremes to which we can aspire, attain and transcend. This is the only purpose they serve, just like Egypt. If they weren’t there to help us become closer to Hashem, they would have no function, and therefore would not exist.

This was the only way in people could have accepted Hashem as their King entirely; in the same way they had been entirely subjugated to Paroh, they could now subjugate themselves entirely to Hashem. This was the critical moment the Jews were born as a nation. As we say in Shema every day: אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלוקים – “That I took you out of Egypt to be for you a God” (Bamidbar 15:41). The causation is clear – we had to have been in Egypt before, in order to be taken out, to become everything we were meant to be.

Being God’s people hinges on the need to have subdued arrogance and ego. This is what טוב אחרית הדבר מראשיתו means – “the end is better than the beginning” (Koheles 7:8). It was far from pleasant to be in Egypt, but what followed was receiving the Torah.

The Sfas Emes tells us that our celebration of leaving Egypt must hinge around the fact that we became better once we left – we accepted Hashem as our King and our God, and we received the Torah. The first thing we did on being freed was for Hashem – this is why there is a concept of firsts going to Hashem, for example the korban Omer (and Pidyon haBen, bikkurim etc).

This is what is so vital on Seder night, to relive the Exodus from Egypt. It is when we became God’s people.

The Sfas Emes answers that this is why Matza correlates to both slavery as well as freedom – it is devoid of the ego, exemplified by chametz, yet it also correlates to the freedom – the process of freedom started when we were slaves. It is how we became truly free to serve Hashem.

Our freedom stems from having not been free once.

In the beginning of the parsha, Rashi asks why the parsha of the spies is juxtaposed with that of Miriam speaking against Moshe. He answers that the spies saw what had happened with Miriam and didn’t learn the lessons of speaking loshon hora.

This answer may seem a little problematic. Why would they learn mussar from Miriam, who was speaking against her brother? After all, they were speaking against the insentient, inanimate land.
Read Full Dvar Torah →

אֵלֶּה שְׁמוֹת הָאֲנָשִׁים אֲשֶׁר שָׁלַח מֹשֶׁה לָתוּר אֶת הָאָרֶץ וַיִּקְרָא מֹשֶׁה לְהוֹשֵׁעַ בִּן נוּן יְהוֹשֻׁעַ – These are the names of the men Moses sent to scout the Land, and Moses called Hoshea the son of Nun, Joshua. (13:16)

The incident of the Meraglim occured on their return from Canaan on the 9th of Av, and was the precursor for all Jewish tragedies on that day, as the Gemara in Taanis (29a) explains that when the Jews began to cry at the “reports”, Hashem pledged “Since you cried for no reason, I will designate this day as a day of crying for all generations”. All tragedies that occured on 9th Av are resultant from this episode.

Moshe sensed that they would return bearing a bad report, and changed his disciple Hoshea’s name to Yehoshua, and prated for him.

The Zohar reveals to us that what caused the Meraglim (who were the nesi’im, princes of their respective Tribes) to sin, was their fear of losing their positions of influence and leadership on entry into Israel. The perceived threat to their authority distorted their vision of Israel, and everything they saw was misinterpreted and fell under the shadow of their negativity.

This Zohar leads us to a difficult question. We read in Parshas Behaloscha that when Eldad and Medad started prophesying, Yehoshua exclaimed that they should be imprisoned – he was distraught at the mere suggestion that he was worthy enough of being the leader.
Read Full Dvar Torah →