
Due to time constraints, this is not an original translation, but an excerpt from R. Chanan Morrison’s “Sapphire From the Land of Israel,” an adaption of Rav Kook on parshah and holidays.
Printable PDF available here.
Shemuot HaRe’iyah (5689)
Our sense of holiness and closeness to God is not constant; there are times when we experience a heightened spiritual awareness. These moments reflect a transient holiness — kedushat sha’ah. Also in the life of the nation, there are special times of kedushat sha’ah. This is the central theme of Sefer Bamidbar (the Book of Numbers), which recounts Israel’s unique experiences during their forty-year sojourn in the Sinai desert – a time when bread fell from the heavens and water spouted from rocks, a time of Divine protection and unparalleled prophetic revelation.
The book of Bamidbar opens with the words: “God spoke to Moses in the Sinai Desert in the Communion Tent.” (Num. 1:1). The terms ‘Sinai Desert’ and ‘Ohel Mo’ed’ are motifs repeated throughout Sefer Bamidbar. They call our attention to the special kedushat sha’ah of that generation.
Unlike Jerusalem’s permanent holiness, the holiness of Mount Sinai was temporary, lasting only for the duration of Matan Torah, the Revelation of the Torah at Sinai. Unlike the permanence of the Temple — a durable structure — the Tabernacle was provisional — a portable tent. And unlike the 613 mitzvot that apply in all ages, the special mitzvot that God commanded the Israelites in the desert – how to encamp, the signal blasts, the order of transporting the Tabernacle — only obligated that generation.
One should not think that kedushat sha’ah is on a lower level than permanent holiness. On the contrary, it is precisely because of its loftiness that this holiness cannot last forever. The deficiency is not in it, but in we who experience it. We are unable to maintain this level of holiness on a continual basis.
One example of the temporary holiness of Sefer Bamidbar was the Israelites’ use of special banners for each tribe in the encampment. The Midrash explains that these flags were given to Israel due to their desire to emulate the angels. Angels appeared at Matan Torah in chariots bedecked with flags, and the Israelites wanted to have similar flags. These flags correspond to the temporary holiness of Mount Sinai and Matan Torah. They reflect the special holiness of angels, a holiness beyond the reach of the human soul.
The dichotomy between temporary and permanent holiness also existed in that generation’s leaders: Moses and Aaron. Moses served as the kohen during the Tabernacle’s dedication — a priesthood of kedushat sha’ah lasting only one week. Aaron, on the other hand, commenced a lineage of kohanim for all generations. Even today, kohanim emphasize their connection to Aaron’s permanent holiness in the blessing they recite, “Who sanctified us with the sanctity of Aaron.”
The founding of the Jewish people required both types of holiness. They needed both Moses and Aaron, both kedushat sha’ah and kedushah la-dorot. The events recorded in Sefer Bamidbar took place during an era of miracles and unique Divine providence, the historic revelation at Sinai, and Moses’ unparalleled prophetic vision in the provisional Ohel Mo’ed. But it was also the time to establish the foundations for Israel’s permanent holiness, to set down the Torah and mitzvot that would guide all future generations.
Food for Thought
- Derashot haRan (#5): For a man has two orientations, an upper orientation and a lower one; when he reflects upon and perfects himself in the realm of intellect and cultivates good character, he breaks away from the terrestrial and rises upwards; and when he leaves the realm of intellect and inclines to the material, he descends downwards. This is intimated in the visions of our father Jacob in the dream of the ladder, (Bereishit 28:12): “And, behold, the angels of G-d ascending and descending on it.” It was revealed to him that that place was propitious for prophecy and that from it men could rise to perfect themselves, but that so long as they were alive it was impossible that this be a continuous, unbroken rising, but that, rather, they would rise so long as they occupied themselves with the needs of their souls and fall to the extent that they ceased from this to occupy themselves with the needs of their bodies. And the implication to be drawn from this was, as far as possible, to increase those things which abet rising and decrease those which compel falling.
- Ramban al-haTorah (Introduction to Bamidbar): אחר שביאר תורת הקרבנות בספר השלישי התחיל עתה לסדר בספר הזה המצות שנצטוו בענין אהל מועד. וכבר הזהיר על טומאת מקדש וקדשיו לדורות. ועתה יגביל את המשכן בהיותו במדבר כאשר הגביל הר סיני בהיות הכבוד שם. צוה והזר הקרב יומת כאשר אמר שם כי סקול יסקל. וצוה ולא יבאו לראות כבלע את הקדש ומתו כאשר הזהיר שם פן יהרסו אל ה’ לראות וגו’. וצוה ושמרתם את משמרת הקדש ואת משמרת המזבח כאשר אמר שם וגם הכהנים הנגשים אל ה’ יתקדשו וגו’ והכהנים והעם וגו’. והנה צוה איך תהיה משמרת המשכן וכליו ואיך יחנו סביב ויעמוד העם מרחוק והכהנים הנגשים אל ה’ איך יתנהגו בו בחנותו ובשאת אותו ומה יעשו במשמרתו והכל מעלה למקדש וכבוד לו כמו שאמרו אינו דומה פלטרין של מלך שיש לו שומרין לפלטרין שאין לו שומרין. והספר הזה כולו במצות שעה שנצטוו בהם בעמדם במדבר ובנסים הנעשים להם לספר כל מעשה ה’ אשר עשה עמהם להפליא. וספר כי החל לתת אויביהם לפניהם לחרב וצוה איך תחלק הארץ להם. ואין בספר הזה מצות נוהגות לדורות זולתי קצת מצות בענייני הקרבנות שהתחיל בהן בספר הכהנים ולא נשלם ביאורן שם והשלימן בספר הזה.
- R. Akiva Tatz (Living Inspired, Chapter 2): At an extremely low point in our history, during the intense misery of slavery in Egypt, literally at the point of spiritual annihilation, the Jewish people were uplifted miraculously. Ten plagues revealed Hashem’s presence and might, culminating in a night of unprecedented revelation with the tenth. This spiritual high was amplified by many orders of magnitude at the splitting of the sea – there the lowliest of the Jewish people experienced more than the highest prophet subsequently. And suddenly, once through the sea, they were deposited in a desert with many days of work ahead of them to climb to the spiritual status of meriting the Sinai experience, the giving of the Torah. Mystically, a desert means a place of intense death-forces, a place of lethal ordeals. No water means no life. (And we see later the potency of the ordeals which faced them in the desert
…And that is the secret of life. A person is inspired artificially at the beginning of any phase of life, but to acquire the depth of personality which is demanded of us, Hashem removes the inspiration. The danger is apathy and depression; the challenge is to fight back to the point of inspiration, and in so doing to build it permanently into one’s character. The plagues in Egypt and the splitting of the sea are dazzling beyond description, but then Hashem puts us in the desert and challenges us to fight through to Sinai. In Egypt He demonstrates destruction of ten levels of evil while we watch passively; in the desert He brings ten levels of evil to bear against us and challenges us to destroy them.
In all these applications, and in fact in all of life, the challenge of the second phase is to remember the first, to remain inspired by that memory and to use it as fuel for constant growth. The Rambam describes life as a dark night on a stormy plain – lashed by the rain, lost in the darkness, one is faced with despair. Suddenly, there is a flash of lightning. In a millisecond the scenery is as clear as day, one’s direction obvious. But just as soon as it is perceived it disappears; and one must fight on through the storm with only the memory of that flash for guidance. The lightning lasts very briefly; the darkness may seem endless.
That is the pattern of life, short-lived inspiration and lengthy battles. The tools needed are determination, perseverance and a stubborn refusal to despair. Personal ordeals which make despair seem imminent are in reality a father’s hands, withdrawn so that you can learn to walk. And the work of remembering the flash of light when it seems impossible is emuna, faith.
Questions for Reflection and Discussion
- How could Rav Kook’s insights help us combat the letdown many of us feel after Yom Tov (and Yamim Noraim especially?)
- Why is it so hard to hold onto the moments of inspiration in life?
- Does our generation have more difficulty holding onto inspiration than our ancestors did? If so, why?
- Is kedushat sha’ah (in Rav Kook’s terminology) really the same thing as temporary inspiration? Or are they different?
- Does Torah learning generate kedushat sha’ah or lasting kedushah? What about observance of mitzvot? (See Gem. Sotah 20a).