ט֞וֹב לָלֶ֣כֶת אֶל־בֵּֽית־אֵ֗בֶל מִלֶּ֙כֶת֙ אֶל־בֵּ֣ית מִשְׁתֶּ֔ה בַּאֲשֶׁ֕ר ה֖וּא ס֣וֹף כָּל־הָאָדָ֑ם וְהַחַ֖י יִתֵּ֥ן אֶל־לִבּֽוֹ׃
Mas mabuti ang pumunta sa bahay ng pagluluksa kaysa pumunta sa bahay ng piging, sapagkat iyon ang wakas ng bawat tao, at isasapuso ito ng nabubuhay.
Akeidat Yitzchak
The instructions concerning the details of the appearance of the menorah which are given before its construction, then again while its construction was in progress, and finally- at least partially- in Parshat Beha-alotcha when the lighting of the menorah is commanded, pose the problem "why all this emphasis on the details?" Since none of the legislation in the Torah contains superfluous detail, it must be that the details are very important if they concern nothing more than a vessel that serves as the vehicle of a mitzvah, not the mitzvah itself. Why do we need to be told at that point that the construction of the menorah conformed to its blueprint? Who was it that carried out its construction? The craftsman who made it is referred to only by the words "he made it." The subject is nowhere mentioned by name, however. Why does Aaron need to be praised for not making any changes? Were the problems of cleaning the menorah so extraordinary that changes in its construction seemed to have been called for? Even stranger is the Midrash Tanchuma in Parshat Beha-alotcha, according to which Aaron was told that lighting the menorah was a commandment which would never become redundant, whereas offerings on the altar would cease with the destruction of the holy temple. Did not everything cease at that time, including the lighting of the menorah? Maimonides' answer that the Midrash refers to the lighting of the Chanukah lights seems far fetched. Aaron's mind would hardly have been put at rest by being told that a minor Rabbinic ordinance in the future would compensate him for not participating in the offerings that had been brought by the princes in which his entire tribe had not been represented. This is especially so, since even during the seven days of the inaugural service in the holy tabernacle, when Moses himself performed the sacrificial rites, Aaron's mind had already been troubled. This in spite of the fact that he would perform many more such sacrificial rites in the future. We therefore have to look further in order to understand that particular Midrash. There is a basic difference between the way man looks at things and in the way G-d looks at things. Man begins with the phenomena that he sees and hears, and proceeds by means of those phenomena to comprehend or assume the existence of other less familiar phenomena. Such unfamiliar phenomena may exist only in the abstract, never to be perceived visually or aurally. G-d, on the other hand, proceeds in the opposite fashion. Sof ma=asseh bamachashavah techillah, the final product had been envisaged at the very outset. This is the way He operates. Every manifestation of any phenomenon represents merely a step planned and necessary to lead to the ultimate total structure. Having planned the final product, He comprehends the significance of every step, every constituent part, even if it is apparently unrelated to the whole. He is aware that such a phenomenon is indispensable, an integral part of the whole to be revealed later. On his way to the inner sanctuary, man, observing the sacrificial rites of the burning of animals which symbolise removal of sin etc., begins to comprehend that the inner sanctuary must be approached only in a state of purity, after washing himself from the copper basin placed in front of the sanctuary. Inside the sanctuary are found the holy vessels of which the menorah represents the concept of enlightenment, wisdom, which though one, seeing the menorah has been hammered out of single chunk of gold, nevertheless contains seven arms, branches. These seven arms suggest seven different disciplines of wisdom and knowledge. Indeed, the wisdom that Solomon (Proverbs 9, 1) refers to, is the Torah itself. We find this also in chapter six of Proverbs, where we read "a mitzvah is a light, whereas Torah is the source of enlightenment." The menorah of the spiritual forces in our world is represented by Torah. It guarantees meshivat nefesh, (Psalms 19,8-11), the return to eternal life by the soul. The six arms are mentioned alternatively left and right, representing the physical forces, (left) and the spiritual forces (right). The words "testimony, mitzvot and judgments," refer to the three arms on the left, whereas the words "mandates, reverence and more desirable than fine gold," refer to the three arms on the right of the stem of the menorah. Simple man does not dream of, or aspire to greatness- even in this physical world. "The testimony of G-d is faithful," teaches that this does not hold true in Judaism. An inferior position in this physical world, does not constitute a barrier to reaching one's perfection, Divinely inspired goals. Machkimat peti,” it makes even the fool become wise." Torah promotes that kind of inspiration. The princes which govern this physical world are the willpower and freedom of choice which enable man to aspire to lofty heights in spite of lowly physical surroundings. Since man may have suffered corruption due to other material forces that interact with him, pikkudim, mandates are needed to counteract the inroads made by the aforementioned forces. The purpose of these pikkudim, is to make the positive character traits the norm rather than the exception. mitzvah, are those commandments which ennoble our lives on earth by constituting a symbolic link with our destiny, our relationship with G-d. Examples are tefillin, (phylacteries), tzitzit (fringes), mezuzah, lulav and others. "Enlightening the eyes," refers to the thoughtful performance of the commandments. Yir-ah, refers to the reverence which we demonstrate when we perform commandments which we are unable to rationalise. We demonstrate our obedience to G-d whose superior wisdom we acknowledge by performing these mitzvot. Omedet la- ad, endures forever, means that part of the Torah remains an eternal moral and intellectual challenge. Mishpatim, judgments, refers to the penalties in store for those who choose not to observe the legislation of G-d as revealed in the Torah. This reference is made especially to past generations whose failure in this respect resulted in their being punished in a manner that fitted their crimes. Tzadku, were just. The justness of the punishment suffered by those generations is apparent to the student of history, i.e. the history described in the Torah. Hanechemadim, that are more precious than fine gold, refers to the statutes whose purpose it is to assure us a reward in the world to come, a reward far greater than any material possessions in this world. The symbolism contained in the merit, the right to kindle the menorah which represents man's attempt to perfect himself, becomes clear then. Keeping to the exact order in carrying out this task is laudable since so much depends on its outcome. Just as the name menorah for the whole candelabra suggests enlightenment, its parts, i.e. stem, arms, chalices, and flowers suggest their respective functions. The stem is used to acquire wisdom; the chalice to be the receptacle of such wisdom; the flower suggests additional wisdom sprouting forth once the fundamentals have been observed properly. The height of eighteen tefachim, handsbreadths, represents the height of a man of average height. The number eighteen is symbolic of the word chay, alive, i.e. its numerical value. Man's intellect is divided into two categories, each of which is subdivided into three parts. There is practical as well as speculative reason. The practical reason deals in the first instance with man's personal concerns, in the second instance with the concerns of his household, and in the third instance with matters affecting the society in which he lives. Similarly, speculative reason. In the first instance, man identifies his own feelings and senses. In the second instance, he learns to determine the validity of all these sensations, whether the information they convey to him is true. (i.e. can one trust one's senses?) In the third instance, man acquires the ability to understand the interrelationship between all these phenomena. This third stage is generally known as beenah, insight. The three arms on the right side of the menorah represent the three kinds of speculative reason, whereas the three arms on the left side of the menorah represent the three levels of practical reason. The "knobs" on the stems are to be seen as "way stations." Since attainment of insights is achieved only gradually, step by step, these knobs represent the steps in man's intellectual progress.
Akeidat Yitzchak
From all this it seems clear, that if the red heifer contaminates all that it comes in contact with, surely the heifer itself must be the source of the contamination! The whole matter seems to defy our normal way of reasoning. Therefore, the use of the words "this is the statute of the Torah", at the beginning of this paragraph is to remind us that logic cannot be employed if we want to comprehend the meaning of this commandment. This is why our sages quote the wisest of men, Solomon, as admitting that comprehension of this mitzvah, or rather its mechanics, its halachic rulings, escapes him. People who try to philosophise about Torah, fall into two categories. Group one believes that everything written in the Torah needs to be understood at face value, literally. For instance, if the Torah refers to G'd "smelling the sweet fragrance of a sacrifice," they perceive G'd literally employing His sense of smell. Or, if the Torah reports G'd as descending on Mount Sinai, they understand this to have been a physical descent. The second group is aware that statements in the Torah are subject to interpretation. Some members of this group will interpret on the basis that the Torah employs human idiom in order to facilitate our understanding of certain concepts. This group will not interpret in a manner that conflicts with known Torah principles. A sub group of category number two, arrogates to itself the right to make its interpretations primary and Torah principles only secondary. This is done by most Christian and a few Jewish philosophers. Making one's own intellect supreme in the matter of exegesis is heretical, of course. Solomon refers to all three groups in Proverbs 14, 14-16. (1) The fool will believe anything. (2) The crafty one will understand in line with his principles. (3) The haughty fool will come to grief through exaggerated self confidence. The manner in which the Torah portrays the laws of the red heifer is a clear hint not to try and unravel that which is conceptually beyond the human intellect. The contradictions have been built into this legislation to warn us off trying to comprehend it.
Akeidat Yitzchak
The story of Creation teaches that belief in fatalism is wrong. Since the Creator was free to create at that time, He will forever remain free to change His world and its laws whenever it pleases Him. (compare chapter 1 and chapter 15) Fear then is predicated on the assumption that what is dreaded need not necessarily happen, or need not necessarily fail to happen, since the ultimate decision is within the province of G'ds will and Power. We are therefore asked by the Torah not to relate to anything from a fatalistic point of view. We are asked to fear Him, just because He is able to either halt or precipitate the very events which we dread. Fear is the opposite of resignation then. If one were to assume that misconduct by man would inevitably result in retribution by G'd, then fear, which is the catalyst of repentance, would be replaced by resignation, and repentance would become almost impossible. (Chagigah 15, telling about the apostate Elisha ben Avuyah is a prime example of this approach). The latter had heard that the gates of repentance would be closed to him, and had therefore lost his incentive to do penitence, and to re-acquire the yir-ah expected of us. In his prayer, during the inauguration ceremonies of the temple, king Solomon used this very argument, lema-an yira-ucha, in order that they may fear You as long as they live on this earth." (Kings I 8.37-40) Concerning this "fear,"- which is identical with faith,- Rabbi Chaninah proclaims that whereas all is within the power of Heaven, imbuing someone with this faith is not within the power of Heaven, but is solely up to the believer himself. For this reason, Abraham was given credit for having believed in the promise that he would sire children. "He believed G'd, and He considered it an act of righteousness on Abraham's part." (Genesis 15,6) This faith could not have been supplied by G'd, but had to be an act of willpower on the part of Abraham himself. He was the first philosopher who found his way to this yir-ah/emunah, as is recorded of him after the akeydah, the binding of Isaac. (Genesis 22,12) "For now I know that you are G'd fearing." After all, this is the goal of all our striving, as Solomon proclaims at the end of his book Kohelet: "In conlusison, after all is said and done, fear the Lord, observe His commandments because this is the sum total of being a human being " There is a third variety of fear that is composed of an intelligent awareness of the fact that if one does not take adequate precautions against known dangers, disastrous consequences may result. This fear, while recognising the dangers of inaction or lack of preparedness, is nevertheless not due to a fatalistic outlook. It is therefore fear, not resignation. The intelligence involved stems from the recognition of a free G'd as the ultimate cause of events, events which He can control, but that man can influence directly. If a king threatens a subject with jail unless said subject carries out certain orders, such conduct is autocratic and deprives the subject of any meaningful choice. If, on the other hand, the king points out that strike action by the subject would result in his losing income, his family going hungry etc., this would not really be called putting the subject under duress. A person doing the right thing under such circumstances falls into the category of "who is clever? he who can foresee the consequences." (Tamid 32) The fear experienced by such individuals is based on an intelligent appraisal of the options open to them in the long run. When Moses realised that his killing of the Egyptian had been witnessed, (Exodus 2,14) he became afraid, not resigned, and took action to escape the consequences. When our sages in Avot 3,21, say "where there is no wisdom, there is no fear, and where there is no fear, there cannot be any wisdom," this is what they had in mind. He who is intellectually unaware of what the future may hold, cannot relate to it with fear. On the other hand, he who is insensitive to what the future may hold, is obviously devoid of wisdom. Fear of the type described, is fear of becoming the architect of one's own misfortune, seeing that the Torah tells us that we will be punished for our sins. Since no one is completely free from sin, no one should be completely free from this fear. Just as an invalid whose doctor prescribes abstention from certain foods to avoid harming his condition, will not consider himself under compulsion, so a Jew whose Torah forbids matters which would endanger his physical and spiritual survival cannot consider himself as observing Torah under duress. In this way we understand Moses' address to the people at the time of matan Torah, the giving of the Torah, (Exodus chapter twenty) when he said "do not be afraid; in order to test you did the Lord come; and in order that the fear of Him shall be upon you so that you will not sin." (verse 17). Although, at first glance these lines seem self contradictory, the fact is that they are exhortations not to relate to G'd with the wrong kind of fear. The result of the revelation was that Israel realised that it was possible to witness the glory of G'd and yet to remain physically alive. We were elevated from the purely instinctive, animalistic dread. Our concepts were raised to a level that afforded us an inkling of His grandeur, not like the beasts around us. This kind of fear fills one with a degree of joy, as David expresses it in Psalm 2,11, "serve the Lord in fear, rejoice even while trembling." With this thought one can also resolve the contradiction in Psalm 76,9 "from the Heavens you have heard judgment, the earth was afraid and calm." How can calmness be a product of fear or vice versa? As long as the earth had not heard that Israel had accepted the Torah, she had been concerned about her own future. Once she heard that Israel had spoken the words "We shall do and we shall listen," the earth became calm, knowing her own future was assured. In other words, joy is the product of the right kind of fear at the right place at the right time. Going back to our opening Midrash, we can appreciate now how the attainment for the kind of fear we have described was truly a minor accomplishment for Moses. The Torah has taught us this concept meanwhile in so many ways, that we can no longer claim that the attainment of such "fear" as Moses achieved without the help of the Torah, is really such an unattainable goal for the Jewish masses who enjoy the benefit of Torah and its teachings.