Category — Chukas

A great Rabbi arrived one Sunday morning in a small rural town. The president of the synagogue asked the Rabbi to help with a local problem.

“All the people here think they are just perfect!” said the President. “Could you preach a sermon that will bring them back to their senses?”

The Rabbi was a gifted speaker, eloquent with words and knowledgeable about the Scripture. He spoke for nearly an hour, convincing everyone that they too were sinners. Finally, the Rabbi was sure he had set everyone straight.

To reaffirm that they were all thinking alike, the Rabbi finally asked: “Is there anyone here who thinks he is perfect?”

Everyone was looking at the floor, thinking quietly. Slowly, one man in the back stood up.

The Rabbi asked the man, “And why do you stand, sir?”

The man said, “I am not perfect, but I am standing in memory of my wife’s first husband who was.”

***

The leader picked up the unlimited phone line to G-d and placed a call.

“Dear Boss, my people need water! What should I do?”

“Moses, go talk to the rock and tell it to start giving water!”

“No problem, Boss. Over and out.”

Moses quickly approached a rock, mistakenly thinking this was the one he was supposed to converse with, and he made an impassioned plea for water. Alas, no water was forthcoming.

All the Jews were standing and nagging. Moses got impatient and lifted his staff to hit a rock. The staff landed on the intended rock, and, immediately, water started gushing out. Mission accomplished; everyone was happy.

But not G-d. He was furious at the open desecration of the Divine commandment. He had specifically requested that the rock be spoken to, not beaten. So as punishment Moses…

Was not allowed to enter Israel!

Sounds a bit over the top, to terminate one’s life dream just for one seemingly minute detail?

Not so when it comes to a leader, to Moses. From him perfection is expected. When a child does something wrong we overlook it, yet it is not the same for an adult. Due to his maturity, much more is expected from him. And especially if that adult holds a public, prestigious position, the smallest slight is magnified exponentially, glaring in the public view.

Moses was the leader, the one who spoke to G-d daily: from him G-d expected total obedience, nothing less than perfection. High up on the hierarchal ladder and in the public light, every detail held tremendous significance.

On perhaps a smaller scale, we are all children of the Almighty. The Jewish people are expected to be a “light unto the nations.” We have been blessed with an awesome privilege, raised high on a pedestal. And that uniqueness comes with profound responsibility – for the light we hold high will spread its glow in all directions. We carry a flashlight, and only if the glass is clear will the light radiate clearly. Our way of life is beautiful. It must look beautiful. Let us make sure that our light, the passion of Torah and Mitzvos, is pure, bright, and untainted.

Do something about it

Be careful – many people are following our path. Let no one stumble on the road.

Hershele comes to the Rabbi with an unusual request: he wants to become a Kohen. The Rabbi refuses. Hershele offers a hundred dollars; the Rabbi refuses. A thousand – no, a regular Jew cannot become a kohen. The title is hereditary, not earned. We don’t sell Torah fo money!. Ten thousand, no. On hundred thousand, still no. A million!!! This is starting to sound interesting… The Rabbi decides to investigate the motives.
“Tell me, why do you want to become a Kohen?” he asks kindly.
Hershele: “Well, my father was a Kohen, my grandfather was a kohen… so I also want to be a kohen!”
The Rabbi’s eyes light up: “You mentioned a million!? We’ve got a deal!”

***

Weird. That’s probably the first reaction when we encounter some of the Torah’s laws – like the one in this week’s Parsha. I’m talking about the commandment of the red calf. Ever heard of it? I’ll give you a hint. It has to do with spraying blood and screaming “pure, pure, pure.” Ah, now you remember… but let’s refresh our memory anyway.
After death, the body that has experienced the exodus of the soul causes one who is in close contact with body to become impure, or spiritually unclean.
How can this unlucky fellow be rid of this spiritual “dirt”? To make it short, we take a totally red cow, slaughter it, burn it to ashes, mix the ashes with a bunch of other goodies and a Kohen (priest) sprays this mixture on the impure guy twice over the course of a week, screams “pure” three times… And, lo and behold, he becomes pure. It’s strange, to say the least.
Oh and one more thing: Guess what happens to the Kohen-sprayer after he finishes his job? He now becomes impure and has to go through the whole above procedure himself!
Makes no sense? There’s no logic? Doesn’t fit with your sense of justice or rational thought? Well, that’s the point: We don’t keep Mitzvot because we understand the logic behind Hashem’s will. We keep them because He said so. We know He is the Creator of the entire universe, and it’s to Him we owe everything. If we manage to understand the logic, that’s wonderful. If not, we do it anyway.
There are many Mitzvot that seem to be rather obvious, and we may assume that, as moral individuals, we might have followed them even without a Divine command. Yet Hashem also gave a few laws whose rationale we cannot comprehend at all, in order to teach us a lesson.
The Torah is, essentially, Hashem Himself. Just as He is Unlimited, so are His thoughts and commands. Torah is supra-rational. Jews are supra-rational. And Mitzvot are supra-rational.
And we don’t have to understand before we do. After all, did we not all say at the foot of Mount Sinai, “We will do and (then) we’ll understand”?