The Gift That Can Be Lost (10:3)

Tragedy does not discriminate. It touches the lives of the wealthy and the poor, the wicked and the righteous. Torah too does not discriminate. It makes demands of the wealthy and the poor, the wicked and the righteous. This week the Bible describes a tragedy that occurred to the most righteous who thought they were above the strictures of Torah.

For months on end, the Jews had dedicated their wealth, time, and talent for the singular purpose of constructing a Sanctuary to G-d. At last, all their efforts bore fruit. Aaron, the High Priest, had offered the inaugural sacrifices and G-d had responded with a fiery sign of Heavenly acceptance and pleasure. The joy was immeasurable, somewhat akin to the ribbon-cutting ceremony of a cherished king’s new palace, but in this case, a shrine to the glory of the King of kings. However in an appalling anticlimactic sequence, the celebration turned sour. Two of Aaron’s children, Nadav and Avihu, entered into the forbidden realm of the Holy of Holies. There they offered incense, something they assumed would surely bring joy to their Creator. But it was their recipe, un-commanded, and uncalled for. So a fire came forth from before G-d and consumed them
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It’s hard for us to fathom the pain. Remember that picture of a smiling schoolteacher and her fellow astronauts, waving in anticipation of another successful mission on America’s galactic pride and joy, only to be vaporized into a mist of memories plunging toward the ocean in a disastrous fate? Here too, the beloved children of a beloved leader on a beloved day in a beloved service were gone in an instant, from glory to death.

Moses, brother of Aaron and uncle of the dead, was faced with a most difficult challenge, to console his bereaved brother. Perhaps Moses’ words should serve as a precedent for all consolation. This is what he says, “This is what Hashem has previously said: By those who are close to me I shall be sanctified and thus I will be honored by the entire congregation.” Powerful words: deep as well as mystical. We are in this world by G-d’s command, and our mission in both life and death is to maintain and promote His glory.

Aaron’s reaction was silence, which is understood to mean, not resignation, but humble acceptance of G-d’s decree.  Rashi, quoting the Talmud (Zevachim 115b) about Moses’ assertion that G-d would be sanctified through those who were closest to him is based upon the verse, “I shall meet with the Children of Israel, and it shall be sanctified through My honor (b’kvodi).” Homiletically the word b’kvodi can also be read as b’kvodai - through those who honor Me.

The Talmud elaborates. Moshe comforted Aaron by saying, “I knew that the Sanctuary was going to be sanctified through the death of someone close to G-d. Indeed, I thought that it would be either you or me. I now see that they (Nadav and Avihu) were greater than either of us.” At first blush this seems very strange. This is Moses talking, the individual credited by G-d Himself as being the most humble of all men. So how does the most modest and unassuming person in the whole world say about himself, that he (or his brother) were the holiest people in the entire congregation?

In truth, there is no contradiction. Humility is not someone who denies his own abilities and accomplishments. If he did, he would not be humble. He would be a fool! A person who refuses to admit to his own worth and character is simply deceiving himself, surely something Moses was not guilty of. 

There is a famous story with Rabbi Yechezkel Abramsky, one of the more prominent Rabbis of the last century. (Note: Because of his opposition to Communist attempts to repress Judaism, he was sentenced to five years in Siberia. He eventually immigrated to England, where he became the senior judge (Dayan) of the prestigious London Bet Din.) Rabbi Abramsky was testifying in a secular court in which the Bet Din was being sued by a shochet (ritual slaughterer) who had been fired. His attorney asked him to state his name and his position. The attorney then asked, “Is it true that you are the greatest living halachic authority on the European continent?” Rabbi Abramsky said, “Yes. That is true.” At that point the judge interjected and said, “Rabbi, is that not rather haughty on your part? I thought that your laws and ethics taught you to be humble.” Without any hesitation, the Rabbi responded, “You’re right, but I am under oath.”

Recognition of one’s true status is not haughtiness. True humility is to remember that whatever a person has and is, is a gift from Heaven. “It is not my strength and the power of my hand that has wrought me this great wealth.” It is not my brains. It is not my talents. It is not innate. It is all a blessing from G-d. A person remains humble by realizing that all of his achievements are only through the good grace of G-d, and that he can lose them at any minute, G-d forbid.

There is a famous Mishna (end of Sotah) that states that when Rebbi died, humility ceased. Rav Yosef questions this and says that it could not possibly be accurate, “For I am here.” This comment begs for clarification. Rav Yosef was simply not saying, “I am humble. Therefore there are humble people around.”

We learn elsewhere that Rav Yosef became blind and consequently forgot all his learning. This illustrious Rabbi whose opinion is found in so many areas of Talmud, who learned so much, who taught so much - this same Rav Yosef forgot it all after his illness. His message was thus: As long as people can see what happened to me, do not say that there cannot be humble people anymore. I knew all of Talmud, had hundreds of students, and yet I forgot it all. If people kept that in mind, then humility would not be lost. For the key to Moses’ humility and Aaron’s acceptance is realizing that everything we have (including one’s children) are a gift from Above…that can be lost at any time.