This week’s parashah is called Behalotecha, which means “when you ascend”… to light the Menorah. The Torah is a living book, a way of life, and I always look to see what principles we can glean from it to apply to our lives today. It has nothing to do with our religious formulas; rather, it is about us building a relationship with GOD. You won’t find any fanfare here in this community; rather, we will challenge you to find your personal relationship with the Creator and share it with others. We are living in a world in which most people do not look to be a light to others; rather, they prefer that the light shines on them. The Torah teaches us that you and I exist for the welfare of the community. The menorah pointed toward the inside of the Ohel Moed אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד the Tent of Meeting, which was completely dark because there were no windows. The High Priest, the Cohen HaGadol, had to see where he was going, and it was his job to keep the flame constantly lit. The Creator was demonstrating that we need to continuously light the path for others, like the guy who holds the flashlight in a dark theatre to help us find our seats.
Last week’s parashah spoke of the twelve tribes bringing an offering to inaugurate the Mishkan, but the Levites didn’t bring anything. Perhaps they felt sorry that they had nothing to bring. They didn’t realize that the greatest offering they could take to God was themselves. Aaron and his sons would have the great responsibility of lighting the menorah and keeping it lit. We need to be light no matter what, seven days a week, 24/7, not only on Shabbat. Even when we sleep, we can be light as we sleep in peace, trusting that His presence is guarding us all night and all day.
The light of the menorah was prepared with special pure virgin oil, which wouldn’t produce smoke when lit. If we do not produce a pure light to others, we produce smoke and become a stumbling block for others to see the goodness of our Creator. Sadly, today, our people, directly or indirectly, are a stumbling block to the world. Instead of following the Torah, we have decided to be like the other nations. This dulls the clarity of the message that we, as His Chosen People, have been given to share with others. It is our responsibility to constantly check what type of oil we are burning.
The Levites were anointed by the “laying on of hands” (Smicha) for all the people of Israel to witness. They, as the spiritual army of Israel, were to hold the people accountable before God for their moral turpitude because if they failed, who would be the keepers of the light? The Levites were to be the “servants” of the people; they were not meant to be served by them. I have spoken to some men here about smicha. This does not make them my servants; rather, they are being acknowledged by the community for what they are already doing. The smicha doesn’t make anyone superior to the rest; rather, it is a very humbling experience. Many of us have been intoxicated by the “me-first” mentality of this world. Those who are selflessly serving in their community are given little attention, while those who are self-seeking and who regard themselves as Number One are honored. My job as your rabbi is to serve you, not be your overlord. What is essential is that we shine His light, not our own; then we become a very powerful light. However, when our light becomes overbearing, we hide the Creator’s light. The Torah uses the word, ahni, to humble, to impoverish our souls, and not to think that we are greater than others. When we humble ourselves, we become greater servants. Many have been intoxicated by Hollywood mentality…believing that we are the center of the universe. It’s a me-first generation that celebrates being number ONE, forgetting the little guy who does all the work.
In chapter 11, the Creator was IRRITATED by the Israelites’ constant complaining. In Exodus, we read how they had left Egypt after crying out for help. The Creator protected and covered them, as well as providing food and water. But now the הָאסַפְסֻף “assafsouf” in Numbers 11:4 were crying out for meat, for the food that they said was “freely” given back in Egypt. The Torah is such an honest book. It doesn’t portray its people as being perfect; rather, as being very human. Did they really have no meat? Didn’t they leave with their flocks? How did they feed their animals in the desert? It reminds me of those socialist politicians who are willing to freely give away other people’s money but give nothing of their own and instead fill their own pockets. That’s where we see the hand of the Creator.
The word הָאסַפְסֻף “assafsouf” is used to describe those who fueled the fire of rebellion among the people. Our sages compare them to the Erev Rav עֵרֶב רַב, the mixed multitude; however, this is not the case. We love to blame outsiders for our own faults, but there were the rebellious Israelites who failed and continue to fail until today. The Creator did give them meat until it came out of their noses. He won’t excuse anyone for their misdeeds simply because they say, “he made me do it!” It is easy to pass the buck. Assafsouf means the rabblerouser who goes against the system, who justifies their wild behavior as victims of an unjust system. Does this sound familiar? Look at the riots and demonstrations happening all over the world today. The order which the Bore Olam set up for humanity to live by is being challenged today just as it was back then. Perhaps the assafsouf were the original cause of the “intifada” against the leadership of Moshe, but the people who participated and followed the rabblerousers were the problem. We are so spoiled that we don’t appreciate what we have until something terrible happens to wake us up. The Creator set up His system called teshuva, where we acknowledge our misdeeds, confess and repent, return to Him, make things right, and we get to start again.
In chapter 12, Miriam spoke to Aaron, complaining about Moshe’s wife, הַכֻּשִׁית, the Cushite. This was not his first wife, Tziporah, since she was a Midianite. However, that is not the issue; if Miriam had a problem with her, for whatever reason, she needed to go directly to Moshe to deal with it; otherwise, it became “lashon harah”, the evil tongue or gossip. Lashon harah is very destructive and affects the three people who are involved… the person who speaks about it, the person who listens and the one who is the object of the gossip. We might ask why Aaron wasn’t punished for his part in it, but later we see how much he suffered. Verse 1 is clear when it says וַתְּדַבֵּר v’tedaber “and she is the one who spoke,” not Aaron. He only listened. Miriam, who was a prophetess, had played a very important part in Moshe’s life from the very beginning. It shows us that we all have our shortcomings. A holier-than-thou attitude takes us nowhere. On the contrary, our lack of perfection helps us to be more human and to spend time with the Creator to learn how to make things right. The people loved Miriam and didn’t move camp until she was restored after seven days of being quarantined outside the camp. It is so easy to trample on someone when they are down. Religious armies tend to kill their wounded. Moshe never judged her; he simply prayed for her. It is easy to point a finger at those who fail, but we need to be careful not to judge. People can easily fall off track, so we need to be sensitive enough to help them return instead of destroying them.
This parashah has so many different facets and teachings that apply to us personally. We all need to reflect GOD’s light; we are all chosen for a special role; we are all given smicha to serve the Creator; each of us can become crybabies and complain when things are not going well. We love to turn our sufferings, illnesses or deficiencies into gods so that others will take pity on us. Stop looking for pity, but instead, be strong despite our situations because of the One who is sustaining us.
When we are called to serve, let us not compare our service with others and complain that we do not have what others have. The last of the Ten Commandments tells us not to envy others or covet what they have. Let us be glad for them for what they have been able to achieve. Be careful not to speak against others. If we have a problem with someone, go to them, not accusing, but caring enough about them to help them grow. If we have done something wrong, we deserve to know what we have done. The most difficult thing for any human can do is to be honest because we don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings; we don’t want to be judged, or be disliked; we want to be accepted. Moshe Rabenu didn’t judge his sister; rather, he interceded for Miriam, crying out: Please, oh LORD, please heal her! !אֵל, נָא רְפָא נָא לָהּ. Miriam learned her lesson, and now we can all learn through her and all the stories that we read in the Torah.
Shabbat Shalom
Ranebi Z”l