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This is the Rav Hirsh you so clearly wrte, a bit more fleshed out. Kol Tuv
Chukas 1 — His Constant Protection
ויסעו מהר ההר דרך ים סוף לסבב את ארץ אדום ותקצר נפש העם בדרך:
וידבר העם באלקים ובמשה למה העליתנו ממצרים למות במדבר כי אין לחם ואין מים ונפשנו קצה בלחם הקלקל: וישלח ה’ בעם את הנחשים השרפים וינשכו את העם וימת עם רב מישראל: ויבא העם אל משה ויאמרו חטאנו כי דברנו בה’ ובך התפלל אל ה’ ויסר מעלינו את הנחש ויתפלל משה בעד העם: ויאמר ה’ אל משה עשה לך שרף ושים אתו על הנס והיה כל הנשוך וראה אתו וחי: ויעש משה נחש נחשת וישמהו על הנס והיה אם נשך הנחש את איש והביט אל נחש הנחשת וחי
They journeyed from Mount Hor by way of the Sea of Reeds to go around the Land of Edom, and the spirit of the people grew short with the road. The people spoke against G-d and against Moshe: “Why have you brought us up from Egypt to die in this wilderness? For there is no food and there is no water, and our soul is at its limit with the insubstantial food.” G-d sent the snakes, the burning ones, against the people and they bit the people; and a large multitude of Israel died. The people came to Moshe and said, “We have sinned, for we have spoken against Hashem and against you! Pray to Hashem that He remove from us the snakes.” Moshe prayed for the people. Hashem said to Moshe, “Make yourself a burning one and place it on a pole, and it will be that anyone who had been bitten will look at it and live.” Moshe made a snake of copper and placed it on a pole; so it was that if a snake bit a man, he would stare at the copper snake and live (Bamidbar 21:4–9).
Among the many questions raised by the events in these pesukim are: How were the snakes a fitting punishment for speaking against the manna? And how did gazing at Moshe’s handcrafted snake allow Bnei Yisrael to be healed?
The mefarshei haChumash offer many answers to these questions. We will focus on the explanation of Rav Shamshon Raphael Hirsch. Rav Hirsch begins by pointing out an oddity in the conjugation of the word “vayeshalach,” which is in binyan pi’el, rather than the more common binyan kal, which would read, “vayishlach.” While “vayishlach” is translated as “and he sent,” the word “vayeshalach” means that Hashem released the snakes and set them free.
This can be seen in other places in the Torah, as well. For example, in Parashas Mikeitz (Bereishis 43:14), before sending his sons back to Mitzrayim, Yaakov said to them, “Ve’Keil Shakai yitein lachem rachamim lifnei ha’ish ve’shilach es achichem acher — And may Keil Shakai grant you mercy before the man that he may release to you your brother.” Rashi (based on Targum) explains that the word “ve’shilach” means that Yosef will release Shimon — from prison; it does not mean that he will send Shimon (which would be the case had Yaakov said, “ve’shalach” in binyan kal), because the shevatim were going to be right there, with no need for Shimon to be sent to them. Rashi mentions that we find this also in Parashas Mishpatim (Shemos 21:26), “La’chofshi yeshalchenu — He shall release him.” The slave who lost his tooth is set free as a result; he is not sent, as would be the case with the word “yishlechenu,” in binyan kal.
The snakes had always been there, throughout the forty years that Bnei Yisrael traveled through the Midbar. As Moshe pointed out at the end of their sojourn (Devarim 8:15), “Hashem led you through the great and terrible wilderness, with fiery serpents and scorpions…” They were only held in abeyance because of Hashem’s kindness to Bnei Yisrael. When Bnei Yisrael sinned, He didn’t send the snakes; He only freed them, thereby allowing them to attack the Jews.
It is for this reason, writes Rav Hirsch, that the snakes are described as “hanechashim haserafim,” using the hei hayediyah, the definite article (see also Chizkuni), implying that these snakes were well known and common to this environment. When Bnei Yisrael ungratefully complained and denigrated what Hashem was providing, He withdrew His protection, allowing them to see the world — snakes and all — as it truly is, and to recognize the extent of His care.
The point was to awaken the Yidden to the fact that dangers, often unseen, are all around, and that it was only Hashem’s miraculous power that had kept the threats at a distance — to the extent that the Yidden never knew this threat was even there until then. When they failed to value and treasure what Hashem was doing for them every single minute by complaining about the manna, His gift was withdrawn. They now came face-to-face with the world absent His protection.
If the sin was their failure to appreciate and recognize Hashem’s kindness and the extent of His protective care, then its antidote was to recognize just how great His protective care had been, to realize what life would be like in its absence.
Thus, the point of the healing gaze at the snake on the pole was to permanently fix in a person’s heart and mind that snakes and other dangers do exist. Even after the snakes had long gone, one had to remember that there is always a snake, or threat of another kind, hiding in the grass. The image of the snake symbolized the ongoing reality of insecurity in which we live at all times, and that only because of Hashem’s kindness and benevolence are we constantly protected.
The Mishnah in Rosh Hashanah (3:8) teaches that the snake did not actually kill or keep alive. Rather, when Klal Yisrael gazed upward and turned their minds and hearts toward their Father in Heaven, that is when they were healed. (See Gur Aryeh and Sifsei Chachamim, 21:8, for their explanations.) According to what we just learned from Rav Hirsch, the goal was not to look up at the snake and then look beyond it to Heaven, but for the Jews to look at the snake and recognize the hostile environment they were in. To understand the dangers that were always present, and recall that without Hashem’s ongoing protection, the snake, along with all their other enemies, would have had free rein. As the Mishnah concludes, these thoughts would help them direct their hearts to their Father in Heaven.
As Rav Hirsch points out, man has a high tolerance toward the frustrations and disappointments in life, as long as he sees the bigger picture, that his very existence is the product of Hashem’s kindness and grace. Awareness of the many “snakes” from which we are constantly saved fosters an acceptance of the small things that inevitably go wrong. When viewed in the light of Hashem’s true compassion, feelings of gratitude and privilege supplant feelings of frustration and hardship. The disappointment present when not winning the big lottery pales in comparison to winning back one’s very existence each and every day.
As they neared the culmination of their forty-year journey in the wilderness, Bnei Yisrael were met by disappointment when denied passage through the Land of Edom. This led to frustration, which expressed itself in complaints: complaints about their living conditions and even complaints about Moshe and Hashem. To inspire within them feelings of gratitude and appreciation, the necessary ingredients to deal with frustration and disappointment, Hashem orchestrated events whereby Bnei Yisrael were shown how He continuously cares and protects us. Feelings that would carry them through life.
Echoing the Modim prayer in Shemoneh Esrei, where we thank Hashem for “Your miracles that are with us every day,” our mind’s eye must always be trained on the unseen snakes in the grass, ever reminding us of Hashem’s protection and the gratitude we owe Him.pojpjp
Just to follow-up on the chushiva Rav Hirsch you presented, here it is more fleshed out. Kol Tuv
Chukas 1 — His Constant Protection
ויסעו מהר ההר דרך ים סוף לסבב את ארץ אדום ותקצר נפש העם בדרך:
וידבר העם באלקים ובמשה למה העליתנו ממצרים למות במדבר כי אין לחם ואין מים ונפשנו קצה בלחם הקלקל: וישלח ה’ בעם את הנחשים השרפים וינשכו את העם וימת עם רב מישראל: ויבא העם אל משה ויאמרו חטאנו כי דברנו בה’ ובך התפלל אל ה’ ויסר מעלינו את הנחש ויתפלל משה בעד העם: ויאמר ה’ אל משה עשה לך שרף ושים אתו על הנס והיה כל הנשוך וראה אתו וחי: ויעש משה נחש נחשת וישמהו על הנס והיה אם נשך הנחש את איש והביט אל נחש הנחשת וחי
They journeyed from Mount Hor by way of the Sea of Reeds to go around the Land of Edom, and the spirit of the people grew short with the road. The people spoke against G-d and against Moshe: “Why have you brought us up from Egypt to die in this wilderness? For there is no food and there is no water, and our soul is at its limit with the insubstantial food.” G-d sent the snakes, the burning ones, against the people and they bit the people; and a large multitude of Israel died. The people came to Moshe and said, “We have sinned, for we have spoken against Hashem and against you! Pray to Hashem that He remove from us the snakes.” Moshe prayed for the people. Hashem said to Moshe, “Make yourself a burning one and place it on a pole, and it will be that anyone who had been bitten will look at it and live.” Moshe made a snake of copper and placed it on a pole; so it was that if a snake bit a man, he would stare at the copper snake and live (Bamidbar 21:4–9).
Among the many questions raised by the events in these pesukim are: How were the snakes a fitting punishment for speaking against the manna? And how did gazing at Moshe’s handcrafted snake allow Bnei Yisrael to be healed?
The mefarshei haChumash offer many answers to these questions. We will focus on the explanation of Rav Shamshon Raphael Hirsch. Rav Hirsch begins by pointing out an oddity in the conjugation of the word “vayeshalach,” which is in binyan pi’el, rather than the more common binyan kal, which would read, “vayishlach.” While “vayishlach” is translated as “and he sent,” the word “vayeshalach” means that Hashem released the snakes and set them free.
This can be seen in other places in the Torah, as well. For example, in Parashas Mikeitz (Bereishis 43:14), before sending his sons back to Mitzrayim, Yaakov said to them, “Ve’Keil Shakai yitein lachem rachamim lifnei ha’ish ve’shilach es achichem acher — And may Keil Shakai grant you mercy before the man that he may release to you your brother.” Rashi (based on Targum) explains that the word “ve’shilach” means that Yosef will release Shimon — from prison; it does not mean that he will send Shimon (which would be the case had Yaakov said, “ve’shalach” in binyan kal), because the shevatim were going to be right there, with no need for Shimon to be sent to them. Rashi mentions that we find this also in Parashas Mishpatim (Shemos 21:26), “La’chofshi yeshalchenu — He shall release him.” The slave who lost his tooth is set free as a result; he is not sent, as would be the case with the word “yishlechenu,” in binyan kal.
The snakes had always been there, throughout the forty years that Bnei Yisrael traveled through the Midbar. As Moshe pointed out at the end of their sojourn (Devarim 8:15), “Hashem led you through the great and terrible wilderness, with fiery serpents and scorpions…” They were only held in abeyance because of Hashem’s kindness to Bnei Yisrael. When Bnei Yisrael sinned, He didn’t send the snakes; He only freed them, thereby allowing them to attack the Jews.
It is for this reason, writes Rav Hirsch, that the snakes are described as “hanechashim haserafim,” using the hei hayediyah, the definite article (see also Chizkuni), implying that these snakes were well known and common to this environment. When Bnei Yisrael ungratefully complained and denigrated what Hashem was providing, He withdrew His protection, allowing them to see the world — snakes and all — as it truly is, and to recognize the extent of His care.
The point was to awaken the Yidden to the fact that dangers, often unseen, are all around, and that it was only Hashem’s miraculous power that had kept the threats at a distance — to the extent that the Yidden never knew this threat was even there until then. When they failed to value and treasure what Hashem was doing for them every single minute by complaining about the manna, His gift was withdrawn. They now came face-to-face with the world absent His protection.
If the sin was their failure to appreciate and recognize Hashem’s kindness and the extent of His protective care, then its antidote was to recognize just how great His protective care had been, to realize what life would be like in its absence.
Thus, the point of the healing gaze at the snake on the pole was to permanently fix in a person’s heart and mind that snakes and other dangers do exist. Even after the snakes had long gone, one had to remember that there is always a snake, or threat of another kind, hiding in the grass. The image of the snake symbolized the ongoing reality of insecurity in which we live at all times, and that only because of Hashem’s kindness and benevolence are we constantly protected.
The Mishnah in Rosh Hashanah (3:8) teaches that the snake did not actually kill or keep alive. Rather, when Klal Yisrael gazed upward and turned their minds and hearts toward their Father in Heaven, that is when they were healed. (See Gur Aryeh and Sifsei Chachamim, 21:8, for their explanations.) According to what we just learned from Rav Hirsch, the goal was not to look up at the snake and then look beyond it to Heaven, but for the Jews to look at the snake and recognize the hostile environment they were in. To understand the dangers that were always present, and recall that without Hashem’s ongoing protection, the snake, along with all their other enemies, would have had free rein. As the Mishnah concludes, these thoughts would help them direct their hearts to their Father in Heaven.
As Rav Hirsch points out, man has a high tolerance toward the frustrations and disappointments in life, as long as he sees the bigger picture, that his very existence is the product of Hashem’s kindness and grace. Awareness of the many “snakes” from which we are constantly saved fosters an acceptance of the small things that inevitably go wrong. When viewed in the light of Hashem’s true compassion, feelings of gratitude and privilege supplant feelings of frustration and hardship. The disappointment present when not winning the big lottery pales in comparison to winning back one’s very existence each and every day.
As they neared the culmination of their forty-year journey in the wilderness, Bnei Yisrael were met by disappointment when denied passage through the Land of Edom. This led to frustration, which expressed itself in complaints: complaints about their living conditions and even complaints about Moshe and Hashem. To inspire within them feelings of gratitude and appreciation, the necessary ingredients to deal with frustration and disappointment, Hashem orchestrated events whereby Bnei Yisrael were shown how He continuously cares and protects us. Feelings that would carry them through life.
Echoing the Modim prayer in Shemoneh Esrei, where we thank Hashem for “Your miracles that are with us every day,” our mind’s eye must always be trained on the unseen snakes in the grass, ever reminding us of Hashem’s protection and the gratitude we owe Him.Gadol… thank for the laugh. Ksiva Vchasima Tova
The Arizal brings a proof from the Gemara that the best time to do teshuvah and eradicate our sins is in the thirty days prior to Rosh Hashanah, in the month of Elul. In Berachos (61a), Rabbi Yochanan says, “Achorei ari ve’lo achorei ishah — Go after a lion and not after a woman.” It is better to walk behind a lion and risk being devoured, than to walk behind a woman and chance sinning. If one is devoured by a lion, he will lose his share in This World, but if he sins with a woman, he will lose his share in the World to Come.
The Arizal (brought down in Otzar Chemdas Yamim, Chapter 7) says the mazal, zodiac sign, for the month of Av is an ari, a lion (Leo). The mazal for the month of Elul is a besulah, an unmarried woman (Virgo). The mazal for the month of Tishrei is moznayim, a scale (Libra). The Gemara is instructing us: Go — meaning do teshuvah — after the lion, in the month of Elul, which follows Av, whose mazal is a lion; this is preferable to doing teshuvah after the woman, meaning waiting until after the month of Elul to repent. For that would leave us sorely unprepared for our Heavenly trial on Rosh Hashanah, during the month of Tishrei, when Hashem takes out His scale, the moznaim.
Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa says in Pirkei Avos (3:11), “Kol she’yiras cheto kodemes le’chochmaso chochmaso miskayames, ve’chol she’chochmaso kodemes le’yiras cheto ein chochmaso miskayames — Anyone whose fear of sin precedes his wisdom, his wisdom will endure. And anyone whose wisdom precedes his fear of sin, his wisdom will not endure.”
My father once interpreted this mishnah as an exhortation to prepare and do teshuvah in Elul, well before Rosh Hashanah. The Gemara (Shabbos 117b) refers to blowing the shofar as a “chochmah ve’einah melachah — a skill, rather than hard and Biblically forbidden work,” which should be permitted even on Shabbos (although it is not).
Now let’s reread the mishnah: “Kol she’yiras cheto kodemes le’chochmaso” — Anyone whose fear of sin, and hence his teshuvah, comes before the blowing of the shofar, which is a chochmah; “chochmaso miskayames” — his chochmah endures, and the blowing of the shofar helps change the decree.
“Ve’chol she’chochmaso kodemes le’yiras cheto” — But anyone whose blowing of the shofar is performed before he does teshuvah, for he has not prepared for Rosh Hashanah in advance; “ein chochmaso miskayames” — the shofar blowing will not have any effect.
Do teshuvah now; avoid the holiday rush.Reb Eliezer, we are not discussing the two volume set from Rav Kuperman. Kol.Tuv
I believe the following would be a good tzu-shtel and the flip side of what Reb Moshe wrote.
1rst Half Idea – We Learn From Tohu Vavohu To Hard Work And Meet Potential
The second verse of Bereishi famously describes the state of the earth pre-creation as tohu va-vohu. This term is generally translated as “chaos,” but Rashi interprets it to mean “astonishingly void.” In his view, bohu denotes emptiness or nothingness, while tohu stems from the root t.h.h., which means wonderment or astonishment. Rashi thus explains, “…that a person is bewildered and astonished over its [the world’s] bohu.” The sheer nothingness of the universe causes – in retrospect – bewilderment and shock.
Rav Moshe Feinstein ( Kol Ram, vol. 3) raised the question as to whether the earth’s primordial state of nothingness is indeed cause for astonishment. One could argue that to the contrary, creation far surpasses pre-creation in terms of the marvel and wonder it evokes. The more a person probes and examines the intricate workings of nature, the more he marvels at the brilliance of the Creator. Why, then, does Rashi speak of the pre-creation nothingness as a source of astonishment? Shouldn’t we be more astonished by the wonder of creation?
Rav Moshe suggested that Rashi’s comments work off the assumption that nothing could be more jarring and mystifying than unfulfilled potential. Once the world has come into existence, in all its majesty and splendor, one can only wonder how it once did not exist. When we consider what could be achieved, we are astonished when that achievement is not reached.
The practical implication of this insight, as Rav Moshe discusses, is obvious: each person must strive not merely to achieve, but to achieve to very fullest of his individual potential. As Rashi’s comments suggest, there is no greater tragedy than wasted opportunities and unfulfilled potential; it thus behooves us all to work towards actualizing our individual potential to the fullest, rather than allow these valuable resources go to waste.
2nd Half Idea – We also learn from Tohu Vavohu that Meeting Potential Is A Prosses Paved With Failures.
tohu va’vohu is part of the process of creation
1. The opening of Braishis is the story of creation. Why then are we treated to the introduction of “v’ha’aretz haysa tohu va’vohu,” a description of the pre-creation void? B’shlama if you interpret the pesukim like Ramban, namely, that tohu va’vohu is some kind of building block matter necessary for all else to be created, then I guess it makes sense. But according to Rashi, who understands tohu va’vohu to simply be a void and chaos, why mention it? If you were to describe an artist at work, you would talk about the brushstrokes on the canvas, not the blank canvas that was there before he started to paint. Why talk about what was there before G-d started making our world and the universe?
Sefas Emes explains that the Torah / Hashem is teaching us about how to create, what creativity means. The artist doesn’t just sit down and produce a great work of art, a great piece of literature. There are dozens of prior sketches that are first tested and discarded, dozens of drafts that don’t make it further than the trash bin. Hashem was “birei olamos u’machrivan.” At first there was tohu va’vohu. This is not pre-creation — this gufa is part of the process of creation. Every act of creation, growth, advancement, always first starts with chaos and void.
It’s difficult as a parent when your kids are growing up and sometimes it seems like they have no idea what direction that are going in or what direction they want to go in and you wonder why they just can’t get on with it and mature. Yet this is the Sefas Emes — you can’tget the “ye’hi ohr” without first having a little “tohu va’vohu.” And it doesn’t just apply to kids either :
Here is the source from
Rav Chaim PaltielRav Chaim Paltiel (Peirushei HaTorah LeRav Chaim Paltiel, Bereishis 2:3) explains the pasuk and its switch of tense in a way that dovetails with our discussion. Hashem wants man to be a partner in the creative process, to be devoted to recreating himself into an improved and better person. The Torah writes that Hashem stopped doing all His work “asher bara,” that He had created, in order for us to be the ones “laasos,” to do and continue where He left off, making us, in a real sense, partners in creation.
If I understood you correctly, the last pshat from Rav Ilan ,is a good tzu-shtel to what you wrote. Piska Tuva
We read toward the end of Parashat Vayelekh (31:28) of Moshe’s instruction to the Leviyim to assemble the nation’s leaders so he could present to them the poem of Ha’azinu. Rashi, citing the Midrash Tanchuma, raises the question of why the chatzotzerot (trumpets) were not used for this purpose. As we know from Sefer Bamidbar (10:1-10), Moshe was instructed to make two silver chatzotzerot which the kohanim would blow on certain occasions, including to announce the assembly of the entire nation or its leadership. Seemingly, if Moshe wanted to summon the nation’s elders, he should have had the kohanim sound the chatzotzerot. Rashi explains that the chatzotzerot were not used because they were buried that day. The trumpets were not left for Yehoshua, Moshe’s successor, and they buried on the day of Moshe’s death – even before he died – as an expression of the concept, “ein shilton be-yom ha-mavet” (Kohelet 8:8), meaning, that even the most powerful figures forfeit their authority in the face of death. Thus, when Moshe summoned the elders, his chatzotzerot had already been buried, and Yehoshua was not yet the nation’s leader, and so his chatzotzerotcould not be used.
Rav David Mandelbaum, in his Pardeis Yosef He-chadash, presents three possible reasons for why Moshe’s chatzotzerot were not handed down to his successor. First, Rav Mandelbaum suggests a halakhic reason, noting that Moshe had the formal halakhic status of a king. (The issue of Moshe’s status as king is discussed at length earlier in the Pardeis Yosef He-chadash – Bamidbar, vol. 1, pp. 376-7.) The Gemara in Masekhet Sanhedrin (44a) establishes that after a king’s death, his scepter may not be used, even by his successor. And the Rambam (Hilkhot Melakhim 2:1) rules that all the king’s personal items are destroyed after his death. For this reason, perhaps, Moshe’s trumpets had to be discarded, and were not to be used, even by his successor, Yehoshua.
In a much different vein, Rabbenu Bechayei, in his commentary to Parashat Beha’alotekha (Bamidbar 10:2), writes that the sounds blown by thechatzotzerot were actually expressions of profound wisdom, which only Moshe, through his unparalleled prophetic capabilities, could understand. The chatzotzerot made by Moshe were buried, and not used by anybody else, as an indication that only he was capable of understanding the deep messages conveyed by the sounds of the trumpets.
Finally, Rav Mordechai Ilan, in his Mikdash Mordekhai, views the burial of the chatzotzerot as expressing the notion that each leader uses different “instruments” in proclaiming the immutable messages of the Torah. Moshe’s chatzotzerot were not used because leaders should not necessarily look to mimic the precise methods and strategies used by their predecessors. While the laws and values remain the same from one generation to the next – just as the precise same sounds were blown with every set of trumpets in every generation – the “instruments” used by leaders and educators to communicate those laws and values must be altered and modified to suit the needs of each particular age. Yehoshua was, without doubt, to transmit the same Torah as taught by Moshe; however, he was to use different “chatzotzerot,” different tools and media to convey the Torah. Moshe’s trumpets were therefore buried on the day he died, to teach that each leader must choose the means of communication that best suits him and the particular needs of his generation.
The sefarim (Alshich, Binah Le’Ittim) explain that Haman was only able to bring us to the brink of disaster because we were fragmented and without unity. This is alluded to in his words to the king: “Yeshno am echad mefuzar u’meforad – There is a certain people scattered abroad and dispersed” (Esther 3:8). He was invoking the truism: “United we stand, divided we fall,” and he knew the time was right to strike. In this case, the cure had to be an all-out campaign to promote unity. Esther told Mordechai, “Leich kenos es kol haYehudim – Go gather all the Jews” (ibid. 4:16). If the problem came about due to a lack of unity, the solution could only be realized when we were all gathered together and able to function and act as one.
This explains the statement in the Gemara (Megillah 13b), “Hikdim shikleihem lishkalav.” Hashem had the Jews’ half-shekel, during the 40 years in the desert, precede and counteract the shekalim of Haman, which were offered to buy the right to destroy the Jews. What impact did the giving of the coins centuries before have against Haman’s coins in the here and now?
The point behind the half-shekel is to convey that I am not self-sufficient and I can’t do it alone. The most I can contribute is a half, and I need the other person to complete the whole. By commanding the Yidden to give the machatzis hashekel on a yearly basis, starting with the command to Moshe, Hashem inculcated and instilled within the Yidden this facility – the ability to join as one. Whatever my station in life, I am still only a piece of the puzzle, one strand in the beautiful tapestry that is Klal Yisrael.
That is why when Esther issued her call to have all the people gather, we were able to rise to the challenge. From being scattered and open to attack, we were able to create an impenetrable phalanx, impervious to whatever Haman brought to bear.
Therefore, the mitzvos on Purim relate primarily to the promotion of friendship and unity among our people: mishloach manos – sending gifts to our friends; matanos la’evyonim – gifts to the poor; and mishteh ve’simchah – drinking and celebrating during a meal.
Haman claimed we were spread out and scattered, with our defenses down; at the behest of Esther, we united and it was our enemies who fell!
Let’s see how the same idea works for Yom HaKippurim.
There is an old dilemma discussed in our sefarim hakedoshim. Some mitzvos are specific to a Kohen and not a Levi, others to a Levi and not a Yisrael, and still others apply to a king and no one else. So how can one individual keep all the mitzvos?
First, learning about a mitzvah can count as fulfilling it. This is as it says in Hoshea (14:3), “U’neshalmah farim sefaseinu – Let our lips substitute for bulls.” Learning about the mitzvah of korbanos can be equivalent to keeping that mitzvah. Rashi (Yoma 36b) tells us that on Yom Kippur, when the chazzan recites the avodah, it is considered as if we have offered the sacrifices mentioned there. We can bring the same point regarding Torah study. It says in the Mishnah (Pe’ah), “ve’salmud Torah keneged kulam – and Torah study is equivalent to them all.” Perhaps this can be understood to mean that Torah study is the one mitzvah through which all others can be fulfilled.
There is, however, another explanation. If we truly personify the full extent of “Ve’ahavta le’rei’acha kamocha – Love your fellow as yourself” (Vayikra 19:18), where my success is your success and my suffering is your suffering, then Hashem will consider us as one united people and treat us accordingly. True, no individual can keep all the mitzvos, but as a unified group, we can share the merit for the mitzvos done by others in the group. (See also Ohr HaChaim on Parashas Pekudei 39:32.)
This was attested to by a miracle that was, according to some, unique to Yom Kippur. The neis of “omdim tzefufim u’mishtachavim revachim – the people stood crowded together, yet bowed down with ample space” (Avos 5:7), which was one of the ten miracles that happened in the Beis HaMikdash. What was the mechanism of this miracle?
Their level of humility, which came along with achdus, was the critical factor. “Omdim” – When they stood upright, “be’komah zekufah” – with their nose in the air, “tzefufim” – they felt crowded with no tolerance for another; “u’mishtachavim” – when they bowed, lowering their stature and loving their fellow, “revachim” – there was plenty of room for all.
Perhaps this concept can be used to answer our question regarding forgiveness on Yom Kippur. Hashem performs this miracle in the Beis HaMikdash to show us the nature of the greatest miracle, our forgiveness on Yom Kippur. Just as the phenomenon of the Temple expanding to hold us all was a result of our togetherness and humility, so, too, the kapparah on Yom Kippur is the result of the same achdus and unity. When we get off our high horse and realize that we are all one, miracles occur, including the miracle of physical expansion and the miracle of Divine forgiveness.
We can now explain a highlight of the avodah on Yom Kippur, which is when the Kohen Gadol enters the Holy of Holies with the incense. Incense is made by grinding down spices. It is the pulverizing and grinding that releases the aroma; the finer the grind, the more potent the scent. All year long, the daily incense is finely ground. On Yom Kippur, however, it is processed even further, making it a powdery product with no identifiable parts (Rashi, Vayikra 16:12).
Perhaps the Kohen Gadol who enters the Kodesh HaKodashim with the fine powder of the ketores is symbolic of the united Klal Yisrael, in which there are no distinguishable parts. He is representing a people who has bowed down in tolerance, just like the finely ground powder of the incense, in an indivisible group. If we stand united, viewing ourselves as one, Hashem, in His compassion, will treat us as such.
Now we can explain the Zohar, which compares the Kohen Gadol entering the Kodesh HaKodashim to Esther, who entered the inner chamber of Achashveirosh. Just as the Kohen Gadol enters with the strength of a united Klal Yisrael behind him – as symbolized by the ketores – so did Esther enter with the strength of a united Klal Yisrael behind her. That is why Purim is named after Yom Kippurim; they both represent a victory predicated on the unity and indivisibility of Klal Yisrael.
I heard from Rav Nachum Lansky that according to this logic, it is not surprising that the heroes of the Purim story are named Mordechai and Hadassah. Hadassah, Esther’s other name, means myrtle, suitable as a spice. The name Mordechai, writes the Gemara, is hidden in the words mar dror, pure myrrh, which is also a spice and is rendered by Targum as meira dachya, which sounds like Mordechai (Shemos 30: 23).
Mordechai and Esther brought Klal Yisrael to a state of unity, much like the grinding of spices for the ketores.its worth knowing the original source linking Purim to Yom Kippurim; it is not like you think and provides room for several strong questions to be asked. See Below. Gmar chasima Tova
We’ve all heard talk of the relationship between Purim and Yom Kippurim; in fact, the Tikkunei Zohar (Tikkun 21:57b) writes that Purim is named after Yom HaKippurim, because in the future Yom Kippur will be enjoyed and will be changed from a day of affliction to one of pleasure.
Furthermore, the Zohar understands that Esther’s action, when she voluntarily entered the king’s inner throne room to intercede on behalf of her people, was akin to the Kohen Gadol entering Hashem’s Holy of Holies on Yom HaKippurim with the ketores, incense, to petition and intercede on behalf of his people. Just as the Kohen Gadol puts on special clothing on Yom Kippur, Esther donned royal clothing before approaching Achashveirosh. And just as the Kohen Gadol enters the Holy of Holies wearing his special garments, Esther entered the inner sanctum of King Achashveirosh. And just as Esther found favor in the eyes of the king, so, too, we hope to find favor in the eyes of Hashem and to achieve forgiveness.
What comparison is there between the avodah of the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur and the actions taken by Esther at that critical juncture of the story of Purim? His entering the holiest place in the world – with the ketores to effect forgiveness for Yisrael – is the holiest of actions. Her entering and offering herself to the king was arguably one of tumah and defilement.
Is there anything in the method through which forgiveness is achieved on Yom Kippur that is similar to the forgiveness on Purim?It is worth knowing the original connection between Purim and Yom Kippurim. See below and the questions that need answering. Gmar Chasima Tova
We’ve all heard talk of the relationship between Purim and Yom Kippurim; in fact, the Tikkunei Zohar (Tikkun 21:57b) writes that Purim is named after Yom HaKippurim, because in the future Yom Kippur will be enjoyed and will be changed from a day of affliction to one of pleasure.
Furthermore, the Zohar understands that Esther’s action, when she voluntarily entered the king’s inner throne room to intercede on behalf of her people, was akin to the Kohen Gadol entering Hashem’s Holy of Holies on Yom HaKippurim with the ketores, incense, to petition and intercede on behalf of his people. Just as the Kohen Gadol puts on special clothing on Yom Kippur, Esther donned royal clothing before approaching Achashveirosh. And just as the Kohen Gadol enters the Holy of Holies wearing his special garments, Esther entered the inner sanctum of King Achashveirosh. And just as Esther found favor in the eyes of the king, so, too, we hope to find favor in the eyes of Hashem and to achieve forgiveness.
What comparison is there between the avodah of the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur and the actions taken by Esther at that critical juncture of the story of Purim? His entering the holiest place in the world – with the ketores to effect forgiveness for Yisrael – is the holiest of actions. Her entering and offering herself to the king was arguably one of tumah and defilement.
Is there anything in the method through which forgiveness is achieved on Yom Kippur that is similar to the forgiveness on Purim?You are correct. When the moderator posts it you should enjoy
I believe the Shaloh HaKodesh says that the decree on Kayin was to be a vagabond – nu v
nu baretz, having no permanency of residence. To (attempt to) overcome this deficit he established a city, a place of residency.Yasher.Koach. I saw this today in the sefer and really like your write up.
very nice, thank you