Climb, Rest, Repeat – Parshat Balak

Printable PDF available here. A previous piece on Parshat Balak is available here.

Rav Kook (Olat Re’iah)

How goodly are your tents (lit. אהליך), O Jacob, Your dwellings (lit. משכנותיך), O Israel! (Bamidbar 24:5)

The lifelong process of striving for spiritual completion consists essentially of two different movements, both of which serve as the foundation for all worthy things in life.

The first movement, which is the elevated crown of every attainment, is to be constantly striving for higher levels of spirituality. One must always be yearning for more wisdom and more holiness, to be illuminated by the pure light that comes from G-dly knowledge, from refining one’s emotions and thoughts. One must allow the noble foundation of his or her soul to intensify and be built up in an ever-increasing process of ascent. This process is stormy, dynamic, and does not allow for any rest.

But there must also be a different modality of spiritual work. You cannot be climbing upward at every moment. You must also hold fast to what you have accomplished, and fortify your spiritual gains against the dangers that threaten to wash them away. There is also a risk that one will leap upward toward levels that are not appropriate, or that unchecked and unhealthy spiritual ambition will breach the bounds of morality or Torah. Thus, this second modality is what consolidates the accomplishments of the first, what enables one’s spiritual attainments to last and endure. And unlike its counterpart, this is a process of rest and repose, of being rooted in one’s spiritual ‘place’ instead of seeking to transcend it.

These two forms of spiritual work are symbolized by two different types of structures. The ceaseless process of spiritual ascent is represented by the tent, which is an intrinsically temporary dwelling that is moved from place to place. The other, more poised mode of consolidating and holding fast to one’s spiritual gains is embodied by the Mishkan. Although the Mishkan was always ready to be relocated to another encampment in the desert, it only functioned when the people were no longer traveling, when they had ceased to move and were summoned to stand still. But as we have seen, the very act of ‘standing still’ is itself an important mode of Divine service.

All of this is encapsulated by Bilaam’s pithy declaration “How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwellings, O Israel!”

Perhaps this is why Jewish custom is to begin the morning prayer service with this very verse. As we prepare to pour out our souls in prayer to our Creator, we invoke the imagery of the “tent,” thus decisively rejecting spiritual complacency. We acknowledge our desire to rise, ascent after ascent, to the highest possible levels of holiness. And at the same time, this vision must be bound up with its counterpart. While taking care to climb higher and higher, we must take care not to slip and fall on our way up. There must be moments to rest, to integrate what one has attained and become, to stay in a “dwelling” and not only a “tent” on the steep cliff of the mountainside.

Only through the unification of these two modalities will we attain the ultimate goodness in all of its vigor and splendor.

Food for Thought

Gemara Sanhedrin (105b): From the blessing of that wicked person, Balaam, you can ascertain what was in his heart. G-d transformed the curses that he planned into blessings. He sought to say that they should not have synagogues and study halls, and he said instead: ”How goodly are your tents, Jacob” (Numbers 24:5), a blessing on their synagogues. He sought to say that the Divine Presence will not rest upon them, and he said instead: ”And your dwellings Israel.”

Seder Rav Amram Gaon (9th Century, Babylonia): One who enters a synagogue says: “How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, Thy dwellings, O Israel!” (Numbers 24:5). “But as for me, in the abundance of Thy lovingkindness will I come into Thy house; I will bow down toward Thy holy temple in the fear of Thee.” (Psalms 5:8)

Responsa of Maharshal, 64 (1500s, Poland): When I come to synagogue I begin with the verse “But as for me, in the abundance of Thy lovingkindness…” (Psalms 5:8) and skip the first verse “How goodly are thy tents” (Numbers 24:5) because Balaam said it [first] and he said it as a curse as we find in Sanhedrin 105b, and this is not its proper place.

Rabbi Elliot Kaplowitz (moderntoraleadership.com): If, indeed, Bilam was evil, why are his words among the first that we teach our children? Why are they included in the siddur? I suggest an answer to this question based on Yosef Albo’s explanation of prayer in his Sefer Ikarim. Albo wrestles with the philosophical difficulty of how petitional prayer can ever be effective if G-d is all-knowing? Hashem has already declared what the end result will be, and G-d’s will does not change. Logically, then, our prayers should have no impact on the outcome. R. Albo explains that G-d’s will does not change. However, the future outcome is determined for each individual as they are at that moment in time. The act of prayer has the power to transform the individual into a new person – about whom a different decree is possible. Because prayer is transformative, there is no more philosophical difficulty.

The structure and content of the siddur helps us to go through a transformation described by Albo. Throughout the siddur we utter the words of others – beginning with Bilam’s words of Mah Tovu, the words of Tehilim composed by David haMelech that comprise the majority of pesukei de-zimra, the words of Moshe and B’nei Yisrael during Shirat haYam, etc. In one sense, we begin tefilah as a rasha (wicked person) deserving of punishment. If we internalize this sentiment, then our prayers will be more sincere and more passionate. The discomfort of beginning with the word of Bilam further helps us to be open to the transformative power of our prayer.

Rabbeinu Bachya: According to the midrash (Talmud Baba Batra 60a) Bilam speaks of the tents in the desert, seeing that there the Israelites dwelled in tents. When he saw how the entrances of these tents were so arranged [modestly] that they did not face each other, Bilam was inspired to compliment the people on this.

Kedushat Levi: “How goodly are your tents, O Yaakov, ‎your dwellings O Israel.” This may best be understood in ‎light of the sages urging us to set aside definitive hours each day ‎for Torah study. (Avot 1:15). “Yaakov” is the name used for ‎Israel when it is at “low” ebb spiritually, whereas “Israel,” is the ‎name applied to the Jewish people when they are spiritually at ‎their best. When Torah study is only an occasional activity of the ‎Jewish people, they are on the level of “Yaakov.” [The ‎word: ‎אהל‎ always denotes a temporary abode, as opposed to ‎משכן‎ ‎which always describes permanent dwellings. When Torah study ‎comprises a major part of their waking hours, i.e. it is a fixture, ‎they are referred to as Israel.]‎

Questions for Discussion

Rav Kook uses his analysis to explain why we start the morning prayer service with the verse “How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwellings, O Israel.” What might be an additional (and simpler) explanation? (For a hint, see the gemara in Sanhedrin, cited in “Food for Thought” above.)
Is ambition in worldly matters a positive trait? Why or why not?
What happens if a person is too focused on rising upward spiritually, without taking time to rest and consolidate their gains?
Rav Kook writes that there is a danger that “unchecked and unhealthy spiritual ambition will breach the bounds of morality or Torah.” Is there anyone in Tanach or Jewish history who might serve as an example of this?
According to Rav Kook, the terms “tents” and “dwellings” refer to an internal spiritual process. See Rabeinu Bachya and Kedushat Levi in “Food for Thought” above – how do they understand these terms?
What happens if a person is too cautious about consolidating their spiritual gains, without being sufficiently ambitious or interested in spiritual growth?
It was only in the desert that the Jews had a traveling Mishkan. Once they entered into Eretz Yisrael, they were commanded to build a permanent Temple. What do you think this expresses, in light of Rav Kook’s insights?

The Common Destiny of the Righteous and Wicked – Parshat Chukat

Printable PDF available here. A previous piece on Parshat Chukat is available here.

Rav Kook (Based on Ein Ayah, Shabbat 55b)

The ministering angels said before the Holy One, Blessed be He, “Master of the Universe, why did You penalize Adam, the first man, with death?” He said to them, “I gave him a simple mitzva, and he violated it.” They said to Him, “Didn’t Moses and Aaron, who observed the whole Torah in its entirety, nevertheless die?” The Holy One, Blessed be He, responded to them with the verse (Kohelet 9:2) “All share a common destiny, the righteous and the wicked.”

It is a basic tenet of Jewish faith that every person is defined by his/her free will and moral stature. Our lives are the sum of the moral and spiritual choices that we make, choices for which we alone bear responsibility. Even so, a person is affected by the character of the collective soul of humanity (lit. נפש האנושית בכללה) in ways that transcend freedom of choice. We are all burdened by the spiritual descent engendered by the primordial sin of Adam and Chavah. None of us hear G-d’s presence or encounter Him with the clarity and intensity that they did in the Garden of Eden.

But humanity’s spiritual development will eventually be restored to its height of completeness. Such is the aspiration of G-d’s beneficent will for humanity. But humanity’s elevation is not a simple matter, and it will not be attained by marginal improvements or enhancements. A categorical, qualitative transformation is required.

Death is part of the Divine plan for facilitating this transformation. For death is more than just a punishment or a mere ‘expiration date’ on the lifespans that G-d grants us in this world. It is part of a Divinely decreed process, the passage through which will eventually lead humanity back to Eden and the highest levels of perfection.

It follows that even elite individuals – those who climb to the highest peaks of spiritual accomplishment by their virtuous choices – cannot escape death. Even though such people have perfected every aspect of their individual spiritual persona, a portion of their soul is still bound up with, and draws upon, the collective oversoul of all humanity. In a post-Edenic reality, that portion of their being cannot be propelled to perfection, no matter how hard or vigorously they exert themselves.

Thus, it is not entirely true that death and sin are inextricably linked. Death is not always dependent upon one’s actions. Even Moshe and Aharon had to die – and not because of anything they did wrong by striking the rock at Mei Merivah. As G-d declared to the ministering angels, “All share a common destiny, the righteous and the wicked.” This is not cruel or arbitrary. It is simply a reflection of the reality that humanity is marching toward the day when the “earth is filled with knowledge of G-d like the water covers the ocean floor,” but it is not there yet. Our current way of being in the world – what we call ‘life’ – must come to an end in order for us to eventually reach that destination.

Food for Thought

Abarbanel: The root of the answer is to identify the sin of Moses and Aharon, the sin that sentenced their death, preventing them from entering the Land. This is a very deep matter, who can find it? Indeed, my own opinion is different to all those who preceded me.… Moses and Ahaon did not die due to the sin of Mei Meriva … Aharon, the holy one of G-d, died due to the sin of the Golden Calf, and Moses, our master, died for the sin of the Spies. This is not to say that Moses – G-d forbid – backed up the Spies’ advice. But Aharon as you know, with no evil intent, created the Calf… and even though his intent was to lead them calmly until Moses would arrive, we know the end of the story. Indeed, the people were punished severely for their sin, some died in the plague and others by the sword. They didn’t enter the Land, according to G-d’s decree, and Aharon caused all of this! It would only be appropriate justice that just as Aharon caused many people to die in the wilderness, similarly he should die there and not enter the Land. Admittedly he was not like the others who sinned willingly, and so he was not punished together with them, at that time.

… As for the sin of Moses our teacher, when the people requested Spies, they asked only regarding “the route by which we will invade and the cities we shall meet.” (1:22) Indeed G-d also said simply: “Send men that they shall tour the Land of Canaan.” (Bamidbar 13:2) But our master Moses added many dimensions to their mission, ordering them to investigate the nature of the people there, “strong or weak” (Bamidbar 13:18) and the nature of the land etc. … and there is no doubt that all these questions were well intended to boost the nation’s enthusiasm, but we all know how the story ended! The answers regarding the strength of the people and their fortified cities, and the land that consumes its inhabitants etc. deflated their confidence entirely. This all lead to the decree that the nation not enter the land…”

When, in Parshat Chukat, the people complained regarding the lack of water…then G-d commanded them to perform the action of bringing forth water., Moshe got angry with the people … and G-d was furious with Moses …at this point G-d gave them the punishment for their earlier sin. Mei Meriva was just the trigger; it was not the primary cause.

Rav Moshe Chaim Luzzato (Derech Hashem, I:3): If Adam had not sinned, he would have been able to attain total perfection. His soul would have purified his body step by step, until he reached the level required to permanently partake of everlasting bliss. When Adam sinned, however, things were greatly changed. The amount of evil that existed initially was just enough to assure that man would be in a perfect balance, allowing him to gain perfection through his own efforts. When man sinned, though, he caused evil to increase, both in himself and in all creation. As a result, it became much more difficult for him attain the perfection that G-d intended for him.

At first it was very easy for man to overcome his natural faults and attain perfection. The Highest Wisdom had arranged things in the best and fairest manner. The only reason why evil and deficiency existed in man was to make it a part of his nature, a part that he would willfully abandon in favor of good. By simply disassociating himself from deficiencies [in both himself and in the world] the first man was supposed to bring about the perfection, immediately. [No further effort would be necessary.] When Adam sinned, however, he personally caused concealment of perfection and thus an increase of evil. Man himself was responsible for the greater amount of evil that existed in him, and it therefore became much more difficult for him to abandon it. He could no longer earn perfection as easily as when he personally bore no responsibility for his deficiencies. The effort required to earn perfection was therefore doubled. Man must first bring both himself and the world back to the state in which they existed before the first sin. Only then can he raise himself from that state to his destined level of perfection.

Besides this, justice decreed that neither man nor the world will ever be able to rise to perfection while still in their current fallen state. Because they remain in this spoiled, non-ideal| condition, and evil in the meantime has increased, both must anew go through a stage of destruction before either can arrive at perfection. Man must therefore die, and everything else that was corrupted with him also must perish. The soul cannot purify the body until the body dies and deteriorates and a new structure is composed, that the soul can enter and purify. The entire world must likewise be destroyed and cease to exist in its present form, and it must then be renewed in a new state worthy of perfection.

It was therefore decreed that man should die and then be brought back to life. This is the concept of the Resurrection of the Dead (Techiyas ha-Mesim). The entire world must similarly be destroyed and then renewed. This is the meaning of what our Sages taught, “Six thousand years will the world exist, and for one thousand it will be desolate. At the end of this thousand years, G-d will again renew His world.”

Kohelet 9:2 with Rashi: “Everything [comes to them] as [it comes] to all; [there is] one occurrence for the righteous and for the wicked, for the good, and for the pure, and for the unclean.”

one occurrence: And they know that the end of everyone – whether righteous or wicked – is to die, and they all have one fate in this world. All this they know, but nevertheless, they choose for themselves the good way, because they know that there is a difference between them in the World to Come.

for the good: This is Moses.

and for the pure: This is Aaron.

and for the unclean: These are the Spies. These [Moses and Aaron] spoke well of the Land of Israel, but those spoke derogatorily about it. These did not enter the Land, and those did not enter the Land; hence, they have one fate.

Food for Thought

Why is free will a basic tenet of Jewish faith?
According to Rav Kook, individual spiritual development is constrained by humanity’s spiritual level on a cosmic, meta-historical level. To make these ideas a little more ‘down to earth,’ are there ways that our spiritual development is constrained/limited by the generation that we live in? If so, how?
See Abarbanel in “Food for Thought” above. In what sense does he agree with the gemara in Shabbat about Moshe and Aharon not deserving to die? And in what sense does he disagree?
Rav Kook claims that humanity cannot reach the highest levels of perfection without experiencing death. What do you think he means? How does death help humanity reach perfection? (See Derech Hashem above for a possible explanation.)
See the midrash cited by Rashi in “Food for Thought” above. How is it different from the gemara in Shabbat and how is it the same?
Rav Kook refers to a “collective soul of humanity.” What is that, and how else does it express itself?

Living in the Future – Parshat Korach

Printable PDF available here. Previous pieces on Parshat Korach can be found here and here.

The Lord spoke further to Aaron: I hereby give you charge of My gifts, all the sacred donations of the Israelites; I grant them to you and to your sons as an eternal portion…. The choice of the oil and the choice of the wine and grain, the first of which they give to the Lord, to you I have given them. (Bamidbar 18)

**Rav Kook (Based on Ein Ayah, Shabbat 32b)**

Tremendous goodness comes to Israel through the influence of the Kohanim, from the incorporation of such exalted individuals into collective Israel. Alas, the blessing that flows from the institution of the priesthood is not manifest at this stage in history, for this institution is currently but a shadow of its true essence. The G-dly directives that bind the Kohanim to the people and the people the Kohanim – commandments like tithes – [apply only in Israel and] are either ignored, or fulfilled begrudgingly out of a sense of obligation, a desire to fulfill the barest letter of the law.

This is regrettable, but also understandable. Our generation does not comprehend the purpose of life in its full true and eternal character. It cannot see that the honor and dignity owed to the institution of priesthood is not on account of its present stature. Like all spiritual matters, the kehuna is cherished due to its future greatness, from the storehouse of spiritual goodness that accumulates over generations of contributions in past, present, and future. It is part of a Divine edifice built by Torah and mitzvot, whose bricks are laid over many lifetimes.

But we fail to perceive this. We relate to priesthood as little more than a vestigial quirk of yichus (lineage), to Kohanic entitlements (such as tithes) as a tax and a burden to be discharged. With such a limited outlook, life will offer little satisfaction and the soul will find no contentedness from any of its accomplishments. What good is material success when life’s inner content is empty and misunderstood, when humanity’s refined feelings and higher consciousness are incapable of being nourished and have no soil to grow in? This state of mind cannot serve as a vessel for receiving Divine blessing.

We must broaden our outlook and strive to perceive reality from the highest peaks. Our gaze must encompass and embrace all generations and the fulness of all existence. Only with such an outlook can the nation be ready to receive a profusion of blessings, both spiritual and material. It is with regard to this attitude toward tithing that the prophet Malachi (3:10) declared, “Bring all the tithes to the storehouse, so that there is food in My house. Test Me in this, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open for you the windows of Heaven, and pour out to you blessing until there is more than enough” (lit. עד בלי די).

The prophet does not mean to assert that tithes are a currency in some sort of Divine gumball machine, that if we pay our taxes to the Kohanim [and Leviim], G-d will reward us. Divine reward does not operate in such arbitrary, transactional ways. Malachi is teaching us that when we appreciate and cherish the priesthood – which, as we have already said, requires being rooted in and appreciating the past, present, and (especially) the future – it is then that we have created a vessel for G-d’s unlimited blessings. It is only in such a state that we will find contentedness and inner peace, that we will find our souls permeated with Divine goodness and sense the essential goodness of life, from its heights to its depths. For when life is not limited to or constricted by the flaws of the present, nothing is lacking.⁽¹⁾

(1) Rav Kook concludes by citing the Sages’ homiletical interpretation (Gemara Shabbat 32b) of the phase עד בלי די in Malachi -“Until one’s lips are worn out from declaring ‘Enough!’”

**Rav Kook (Orot ha’Techiah 5); translated by Bezalel Naor**

Great is our past and even greater is our future, which is clarified when we desire the righteous ideals hidden in our souls. With this great power all the moments of the present live and exist in our midst with a full spirit of life, and all the memories by their might fill a multitude of deeds with vitality; infuse mitzvot, customs, and orders with a special power of insight, a distinctive creative ability, an outstanding world-outlook. These are all full of meaning and romance, love and ecstasy, and drenched with the dew of life, of courage and majesty, from our ecstasy, from our courage, from our singular majesty.

The quintessential form of all the arrangements of the life of the society according to the divine formula that corresponds to life – broadening life, purifying and uplifting it to freedom and to the concentration of all the media that make freedom a truly good gift – is hidden [among other places] in the system of the mitzvot dependent on the Land… The future does not desist from demanding of the present its role, and the present becomes interesting to the degree that it knows the future is in need of it. Thus the present is not inconsequential vis-à-vis the future but rather fills up thereby with all its character and essence, and its inclusion in the aspiration of the future and its exalted height adds to it pleasure and living strength.

Therefore, full of life are the memories stored in the commemorations we perform… The things look to us now shriveled, their outer appearance is meager, but inside they are full of life and content. We circumvent the observance of shemitah (the sabbatical year) by selling the lands to a non-Jew; we observe the giving of tithes to the Kohen and to the Levite by a device that inflicts no great loss on the giver, nor brings great profit to the receiver; we bless and tithe, and redeem ma‘aser sheni (the second tithe) worthy of being eaten in sanctity in the central city, holy and living, the site chosen by the Lord, the heart of the nation with all the streams of its life…

But in these minute grains great potential for growth is contained, for all that they long, from all that has grown in the past, and all that they will eventually produce. All this is contained in them in a typical way, and they silently influence the observant soul, constantly fanning a holy fire of love of the land – through these shares of holiness, through the divine, religious, national and ethical superiority of these actions. They educate the people in its days of lowliness to its spirit of greatness. Knesset Israel, its sons and builders, understood this and did not cease from actualizing these memoirs, as much as was possible in the lands of its wanderings, but especially upon its return in any form to its place, its inheritance.

The majesty and beauty, and the special glory that there is in the mitzvot dependent on the Land – when observed now in the Land of Israel by us, by that pioneering force building the ancestral land and preparing a more certain, clearer prospect for the coming generation – is revealed to us from the strength of our inner desire that pounds within our soul, to assert the character of our nation in our ancestral land with its full countenance, with all the contours and lines that make up its character, which stress that this is our nation with its original, lofty value, with its body, spirit, and soul. For this, we aspire to renew upon us early days, as in the days of old, and as in former years. Behold, we slept a national slumber during a long and very difficult galut (exile). Our national energies remained absorbed within our midst. Outside all becomes atrophied and aged, but inside the dew of life continuously streams.

Just as the practical mitzvot in general, in their fullness, went with us in exile and preserved for us in exile our vitality and our inner, essential spirit, bringing us to these days, the beginning of the period of the resurrection of the desire of national renascence in our land, so the mitzvot dependent on the Land will bring us to the upliftment of life, as they [i.e., those mitzvot] were determined by life’s full dimension. The more we contemplate the essence of all the mitzvot dependent on the Land, seeing how far they are from us, how much healthier and stronger our lives must be in order for these mitzvot to be observed by us, so will the ardor grow in us to observe with love and honor that portion that we can observe as a commemoration, a holy commemoration, a remembrance of whole life that will come to us when complete salvation will come to our people on our soil, an eternal salvation. When we observe those mitzvot now, we enrich the soul of our nation with that holy fire that will become a holy flame full of life at the time of rebirth. When we fulfill now the mitzvah of tithes, even though we do not have all the concrete foundations upon which these mitzvot are constructed, “neither a kohen at his service nor a Levite at his song” – behold this vision appears before us and we are filled with a spirit of song exalted as the flight of eagles, in view of the light of the happy days that await our nation on our blessed soil: Here is the Temple on its foundation, a pride and honor for all the nations and kingdoms, and here we carry with joy sheaves of our Land of Delight.

We come with a spirit full of true freedom and pure trust to the silo and winery, full of grain and wine, and our heart is gladdened by the abundance of a Land of Delight. There appear before us priests, holy men, servants of the Temple of the Lord, G-d of Israel. Their hearts are full of love and kindness, the holy spirit floods their faces, and we recall the crescendo of holy feelings that filled us at the time we saw their faces, when we went up on pilgrimage; when we saw them standing to serve within our Temple pride of our strength and delight of our eyes. How handsome and pleasant they are to us, and now here is our silo full of the blessing of the Lord from this Land of Delight that we inherited from our fathers, and the portions of these men, men of spirit, are with us. We are happy to give to them their tithes; we find within our midst an exalted feeling and rise together with the tithe to the spiritual plane where these holy men ascend.

Our soul is drenched with the bounty of heaven. And behold the Levites, these delicate ones who captivated our hearts with their harmonious music in the holy place during the festival, when we went up to see the glorious Temple of G-d in Jerusalem, to behold the face of the Master, the Lord, G-d of Israel. Their joyous, delicate faces remind us of their holy music; we float in streams of spiritual joy and give them with a happy heart their portion, the tithe. Soon we will once again meet on the Mountain of the Lord at the next festival. How proud we will be to see these kohanim (priests) and Levites of the Lord at their holy work and music! Happy the people who has this; happy the people whose G-d is the Lord.

Questions for Discussion/Further Thought

What role are the Kohanim meant to serve?
Why did the Kohanim need to be supported by the people?
Rav Kook encourages us to move from a narrow perspective focused on the present to one that “encompasses and embraces all generations and the fulness of all existence.” That sounds like a lofty goal. How do we achieve it?
Why are the priestly entitlements reiterated in Parshat Korach?
Are the two pieces above from Rav Kook saying the same thing, or is there a slightly different emphasis in each?
Rav Kook writes that “Behold, we slept a national slumber during a long and very difficult galut (exile). Our national energies remained absorbed within our midst. Outside all becomes atrophied and aged, but inside the dew of life continuously streams.” What do you think he means?
What problems does contemporary culture/society face as a result of being excessively focused on the present?