Ki Savo - The Tochacha and Serving God with Joy

The bulk of Parshas Ki Savo discusses the prophecy of reward and punishment for the Jewish people. The Torah tells us that if we listen to the voice of God and obey his commandments, then we will be greatly blessed. It is here that we find the famous verses (Deuteronomy 28:3,6):

ברוך אתה בעיר וברוך אתה בשדה:

ברוך אתה בבאך וברוך אתה בצאתך:

“Blessed shall you be in the city, blessed shall you be in the field.

Blessed shall you be in coming, blessed shall you be in going.”

The prediction of blessing for obedience to the commandments of God is followed by the Tochacha – the Admonition. In the Tochacha, the Torah describes, at length and in very harsh and frightening terms, the terrible punishments that await the Jewish people, as a people and as individuals, when they fail to obey the commandments of the Torah. The Tochacha speaks of warfare and slavery, disease and madness, famine and poverty, and every other form of human suffering. The concept of reward and punishment is made very graphically clear.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch writes (Deuteronomy 28:1) that the Tochacha is intended to stress the responsibility of every individual for the spiritual welfare of the nation. For when the nation suffers for its general failings, every individual – even the most righteous – suffers with it.

Although the subject matter of the Tochacha is very difficult for us, it also provides us with an essential key to understanding the events of Jewish history. The Jewish people have experienced great suffering over the millennia, despite consistently being morally superior to the surrounding peoples. This is the result of our special relationship with Hashem. Like any caring parent, God does not want His children to simply be superior to the surrounding environment, but that they should be truly good and righteous. Once we have absorbed the lessons of the Tochacha, the tragedies of Jewish history, while still tragic, are no longer mysteries.

When the Tochacha is read in the congregation on Shabbat, the custom is to read it in a low voice. Rav Avigdor Miller explained (The Path of Life p. 293) that this is to teach us an important lesson. Even when it is necessary to give strong rebuke to another, it should be done in as gentle a manner as is possible. “The most effective way of communicating and having people listen to you is to speak in a soft voice. ‘The gentle words of the wise are heard.’ (Ecclesiastes 9:17)”

In the midst of the Tochacha we find the statement that the Jewish people are being afflicted with these terrible punishments because they did not serve God with joy (Deuteronomy 28:47):

תחת אשר לא עבדת את ה' אלקיך בשמחה ובטוב לבב מרב כל:

“For you did not serve Hashem your God with joy and a good heart, when all was abundant.”

At first glance, the implication of this verse is that although the people were performing the mitzvos properly, their lack of joy in their service to God resulted in severe punishment. This is very surprising. While we can readily readily recognize the virtue of joy in the performance of the mitzvos, the lack of joy—by itself—would not seem to warrant such harsh punishment.

R' Matisyahu Salomon

Rav Mattisyahu Salomon, the mashgiach of the Lakewood yeshiva, explains (מתנת חיים-מועדים עמ' קל"ה) that this is not the intent of the Torah. Certainly, the grave punishments of the Tochacha are reserved only for the complete failure to perform the mitzvot entirely. The intent of the verse here is simply to explain how it is possible that the Jewish people could ever fall to such a low level of Torah observance. The Torah teaches us that this can only happen if, even when the Jewish people were observing the mitzvot, their observance was joyless. Only then could they come eventually to abandon the mitzvot entirely.

This teaches us a very important lesson. If one does not find joy in Torah and mitzvot, this is a clear indication that his Torah and mitzvot are flawed in some significant way. Perhaps he doesn’t properly appreciate the significance of mitzvot. Or perhaps he is performing the mitzvot incorrectly. A dry and mechanical observance of the mitzvot will quickly lose its appeal. We are required to find a way to serve God with joy.

Whenever we encounter an obligation that touches upon our inner feelings, people will often ask how can God command us to feel a certain way? We often hear people say, "I can't help how I feel!", as if our feelings are not subject to our control, and, in fact, there is a significant degree of truth to this. Exerting direct control over our feelings can be very difficult, and in many cases it is not possible, and attempting to do so can actually be harmful. But if this is true, then how can God demand from us that we control our emotions? For example, in our case, how can God require us to serve Him "with joy and a good heart"?

The answer is that while our emotions may seem to arise as if of their own accord from our experiences, how we perceive our experiences has a profound impact on our feelings and emotions. The exact same experience can inspire very different feelings, even in the same person, depending on how the person interprets or perceives the experience.

I remember once, as a child (I was probably about 9 years old), I was walking with some friends in our neighborhood and we encountered an older boy. He was probably only about 13 years old, but to us he seemed like a really big boy, almost an adult. He came over to us and starting asking us impolite questions, and making faces at us, and generally being rude. So we were rude back, and he started to run after us, and we ran away, and we called him names, etc. While this was going on we ran into an adult we knew, and we told him, "That boy is being mean to us!" He looked at the boy and, to our surprise, he became visibly upset, at us! He explained to us that this boy had not been making fun of us, he was mentally disabled and he was just being friendly. I still remember how this one piece of information hit me like a wave of ice water. Suddenly, in the place of my sense of justified anger, I felt guilt and shame. I looked at the boy, and now I could see it too, that he was just being nice and how confused and hurt he was by our behavior. Even today, more than thirty years later, I feel guilty when I think about this incident.

Ultimately, all of our emotions are rooted in how we perceive the world around us, and if our perception of the world is erroneous, then our feelings will reflect that error. It precisely in this manner that we are required to control our emotions, not by simply repressing our feelings, but by bringing our mental picture of the world into congruence with the ultimate truth revealed in the Torah.

In no area is this more important than with regard to happiness, and it is for this reason that failure to serve God with happiness is indicative of a much deeper spiritual problem. God has given us the great gifts of Torah and mitzvos, yet so often we act as if these are not gifts at all but burdens! This is rooted in a fundamentally distorted perception of our relationship with God that can be illustrated with the following analogy:

Imagine the owner of a small store, living in an urban neighborhood. Everyday he struggles to keep his business functioning, so that he can bring home enough money to pay the bills. Then one day, the door opens and in walks one of the local mobsters, followed by two huge thugs. "Nice store you have here, bud," he says with a grin, "wouldn't want to see anything happen to it." The two thugs chuckle, as a chill runs down the store-owner's back. "Tell you what," the mobster continues, "we have a service for guys like you. All you gotta do is pay a monthly fee, and we guarantee that nothing happens to your place of business. It's like insurance. You interested?" The storeowner knows exactly what is happening, and he realizes that he has no choice but to agree. "How much?" "A special deal for you, just $10 a month," the mobster replies, "that's practically for free!" And so, every month, the store-owner hands over his $10 dollars. And even though it's just $10, every time he pays that money he is filled with anger and resentment. But he has no choice; the mobster is stronger than him and if he doesn't do what the mobster says, then the mobster will destroy everything he has.

Now imagine, in a parallel universe, the same store-owner, and one day the door opens and in walks a fellow in a suit. "Hi," he says with a smile, "I don't know if you remember me, but I grew up in this neighborhood. You once helped me when I was a little kid and one of the bigger kids was bullying me. I have done very well for myself over the years, and I really want to show my gratitude to you, and to the community as a whole that got me off to such a great start. I think your store could do very well with a proper capital investment, so I would like to become a silent partner in your business." The surprised store owner asks, "How much money are you talking about?" and the fellow responds with a number well into the seven digits. "Don't worry," the fellow says, "your obligation to me will be minimal. I'm not really looking to make money off this, so all you have to do is send me a monthly payment of $10 a month." The fellow then writes out a check, hands it to the store-owner, and walks out the door. And so, every month, the store-owner pays his ten dollars to his benefactor, and the every time he wonders how such a minuscule payment can possibly be sufficient. Surely he ought to be doing more, but the "investor" won't hear of it.

There are two ways that we can view our obligation to obey God's commandment. I can look at all that I have: my life, my wife, my children, my home, my job, my cars, my bank accounts, my intelligence, my health, etc. and I can say, "These are mine! But God says that if I don't do what He says, He will destroy it all!" So I obey, because God is stronger than me, and I am afraid. Yet, every time I obey God's command,  I resent it.

Or I can recognize the truth, that everything that I have in life was given to me by God. I had no prior claim on anything before He gave it to me; I didn't even exist! God owed me nothing, yet He gave all of this to me, even though I had done absolutely nothing to earn it. And now God tells me that there are some things that He expects from me. There are a some rules and regulations that apply to all of these gifts that he has given me. When one looks at the world with this perspective, it is impossible not to see the mitzvos as the ultimate bargain. How can you not serve God with joy, when you realize that all God wants in exchange for all that He has given us is that we follow a few rules?

The sad reality is that it is all too easy to forget the true nature of the world, and to see God as if He is interfering in our lives. Much of the daily prayer service is intended precisely to help us keep the true perspective clear in our minds. As we see from the Tochacha, this task is of central importance. A Judaism without joy is a Judaism that is doomed to failure, if not in one generation, then the next.

Rav Moshe Feinstein would frequently say, "People destroyed their children by always repeating es iz shver tzu zien a Yid (it is hard to be a Jew). No – it is not hard to be a Jew. It is beautiful and joyous to be a Jew." (Reb Moshe p.73) If we truly appreciate the privilege of Torah and mitzvos, then we will always be filled with joy and happiness that we are Jews.

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Ki Seitzei - The Lesson of Shatneiz

In Parshas Ki Seitzei we read (Deuteronomy 22:11), "לא תלבש שעטנז צמר ופשתים יחדו" - "You shall not wear shatneiz, wool and linen together." 

This is the prohibition of shatneiz, wearing any garment containing a mixture of wool and linen (flax). The prohibition includes any use of such a material to warm the body (such as a blanket).

Shatneiz is one of the classic examples of a chok - a non-rational commandment. Nevertheless, as is the case with all of the chukim, there are always insights and lessons that can be drawn from this commandment.

The midrash (תנחומה בראשית ט', פרקי דר' אליעזר כ"א) connects the prohibition of shatneiz to the incident of Cain and Abel in Genesis 4. As the Torah tells us there, Cain brought an offering before God from the “fruit of the ground” and his brother, Abel, brought an offering from the choicest of his flock of sheep. God showed favor only to Abel’s offering because, as the commentaries explain, Abel brought from the best of his sheep, whereas Cain brought inferior material from his crops. Cain was angered by this and murdered his brother. The midrash states that the crop that Kayin brought as an offering was פשתים – flax. The midrash continues that this is the reason why it is forbidden to combine linen (which is made from flax) with wool (which comes from sheep) in our garments.

The Yismach Yisrael (Rav Yerachmiel Yisrael Yitzchak Danziger of Alexander, d.1910) uses this medrash to explain the deeper meaning of the verse from Eishes Chayil, the famous paean of praise for the Jewish woman written by King Solomon in Proverbs 31. The verse (Proverbs 31:13) states, "דרשה צמר ופשתים ותעש בחפץ כפיה" - "She seeks out wool and linen and her hands work willingly."

The Yismach Yisrael explains the words דרשה צמר ופשתים to mean, “She delves (דרש) into the meaning of wool and linen” - she seeks out the meaning of the prohibition of shatneiz taught by the medrash and she learns that the reason the offering of Abel found favor before God was that Abel made his offering with genuine happiness and enthusiasm, whereas Cain only gave from the poorer quality plants. Having learned this lesson and taking it to heart, ותעש בחפץ כפיה – “her hands work willingly;” she fulfills the commandments of God with happiness and enthusiasm.

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Parshas Re'eh - On Excessive Mourning

In Parshas Re'eh we read (Deuteronomy 14:1-2):

בנים אתם לה' אלקיכם לא תתגדדו ולא תשימו קרחה בין עיניכם למת: כי עם קדוש אתה לה' אלקיך ובך בחר ה' להיות לו לעם סגלה מכל העמים אשר על פני האדמה: 

You are the children of Hashem your God; you shall not cut yourselves or make a bald spot between your eyes for the dead. For you are a holy people to Hashem your God, and Hashem has chosen you to be for Him a treasured people from all peoples that are upon the face of the earth.

In this passage, God forbids us from engaging in self-mutilation as an expression of mourning and grief when someone passes away. (Such practices were commonplace in many ancient cultures, and still exist today among some groups.) The Torah tells us that to engage in such mourning practices somehow contradicts the idea that we are "the children of Hashem" and a "holy people to Hashem." What is the connection between these two concepts?

In his commentary on the Torah, Rav Avraham ibn Ezra (d.1167) writes that the message here is that God loves us even more than a father loves his children, and therefore we should trust Hashem like a small child trusts his father, even when he cannot understand his father's actions, that no matter what happens, everything God does is truly for our benefit.

The Ramban (Rav Moshe ben Nachman, d.1270) cites the explanation of the ibn Ezra, and adds that part of the underlying message here is that, as the children of God and His treasured people, we should have absolute confidence in the reality of the afterlife. For this reason, excessive acts of grief and mourning, such as self-mutilation, are inappropriate, for they imply that the loss of our loved ones is absolute. However, the Ramban continues, the Torah does not prohibit crying over the death of a loved one, for it is natural for those who love each other to cry upon their separation, even in life.

Rabbi Mattisyahu Salomon, the famous mashgiach of the Lakewood yeshiva, expanded upon this idea in a speech (printed in With Hearts Full of Faith, p.75):

A father and mother send off their son to a yeshivah in Israel. They are the ones that encouraged him to go. They helped him choose the yeshivah, and they are the ones paying for it. Nevertheless, when they take their son to the airport and say good-bye, they cry. Why do they cry? Isn't everything going exactly as they wanted it to go? Why does a mother cry at her daughter's wedding? Because it is human nature to cry at times of parting with a loved one.

When a loved one dies, it is a moment of parting, not only for a certain period of time but for as long as we live on this earth. This is the pain we are allowed to feel. This is the pain that we are supposed to feel. It is right to feel the loss of a departed loved one, and it is right to give expression to that loss with our tears. But excessive grief? That is forbidden. Did we ever see parents mutilating themselves and tearing out their hair in the airport when they are sending off their children to study in a distant land? Not very likely. Self-mutilation expresses something much deeper than the pain of parting. It expresses the shock at the immensity of the tragedy and horror at coming face-to-face with evil. These have no place at a Jewish death. 

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From Av to Elul – From Tragedy to Repentance

We are currently in the Jewish month of Av, the month devoted to mourning the destruction of the Holy Temples in Jerusalem – which culminates in the fast of Tisha B’Av – and to our faith that God will eventually comfort us – as expressed in the seven haftaros read each Shabbos between Tisha B’Av and Rosh HaShana. The month of Av is followed by Elul, the month devoted to teshuva (repentance) in preparation for Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur.

What is the meaning of this sudden shift from the month of tragedy and mourning to the month of penitence and rapprochement between Man and God? To understand this we need to gain a deeper insight into the basic message of Av.

The Midrash (Eicha Raba 1:1) states:

Three [prophets] prophesied using the term “eicha”: Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah. Moses said, “How (Eicha) can I bear this people alone…” (Deut. 1:12). Isaiah said, “How (Eicha) has the faithful city become a harlot…” (Isaiah 1:21). Jeremiah said, “Alas! (Eicha) She sits in solitude…” (Lamentations 1:1).

R’ Levi said, “This is analogous to a noble-woman that had three servants, one saw her when she was in comfort, one saw her in her licentiousness, and one saw her in her disgrace. Similarly, Moses saw Israel in their honor and comfort and said, “How can I bear this people alone…”, Isaiah saw them in their licentiousness and said, “How has the faithful city become a harlot…”, and Jeremiah saw them in their disgrace and said, “Alas! She sits alone…”

These verses of Eicha are all read in the month of Av – the verses in Deuteronomy and Isaiah are read on the Shabbos before Tisha B’Av and the book of Lamentations is read on Tisha B’Av – and, taken together, they give us a key to the basic message of Av. The Elef HaMagen (Commentary on the Torah by Rav Eliezer Papo, d. 1824, author of the Pele Yo'etz) draws a connection between these three verses of Eicha and a passage in the Talmud (Yoma 35b):

A poor man, a wealthy man, and a wicked man are brought before [the heavenly court for] judgment. They say to the poor man, “Why didn't you study Torah?” If he responds that he was too poor and was preoccupied with his livelihood, they say to him, “Were you more impoverished than Hillel?” [Hillel the Elder, one of the greatest sages of the Talmud, was also an extremely poor man.] … 

They say to the wealthy man, “Why didn't you study Torah?” If he responds that he was wealthy and was preoccupied with his financial obligations, they say to him, “Were you more wealthy than Elazar ben Charsom?” [Rabbi Elazar ben Charsom was a prominent sage who was also extremely wealthy.]…

They say to the wicked man, “Why didn't you study Torah?” If he responds that he was very good-looking and was [therefore] preoccupied by his desires, they say to him, “Were you more beautiful than Joseph HaTzadik (the Righteous)?” [Joseph, the son of Jacob, was extremely beautiful and was severely challenged in this regard when he lived in the home of Potiphar in Egypt.]…

Thus we find that Hillel obligates the poor, Rabbi Elazar ben Charsom obligates the wealthy, and Joseph HaTzadik obligates the wicked.

The Talmud gives three categories of rationalizations – the excuses of poverty, wealth, and temptation – that people rely upon to deny their responsibility for their moral failures. Almost every excuse that we make for ourselves falls into one of these three categories. These three excuses are paralleled in the three verses of Eicha. Moses spoke of the Jewish people in their time of success, paralleling the challenge of wealth; Isaiah spoke of the Jewish people in their time of sin, paralleling the challenge of temptation; and Jeremiah spoke of the Jewish people in their time of suffering, paralleling the challenge of poverty.

Rav Avigdor Miller

The Midrash (Eicha Raba 1:1) points out the connection between the word Eicha and the word Ayeka (both words are spelled identically) in Genesis 3:8, when, after the sin of eating from the Tree of Knowledge, God calls out to Man, “Ayeka?" - "Where are you?” What exactly was God asking? God certainly knew exactly where Adam and Eve were hiding! Rav Avigdor Miller explains:

Every sinner hides from Hashem… behind self-justifications and self-deceptions. ...all sinners are actually hiding from Him behind their barricades of self-deception and self-justification. ... Hashem calls to the Man: “Where are you?” meaning: Reveal yourself to Me, by removing the barricades of self-justification and false reasoning behind which you attempt to hide from Me.

The cry of Eicha – How can it be! – alludes to that original call of Ayeka – Where are you? – in which God calls us to stop deceiving ourselves and return to Him. The tragedies we mourn in the month of Av are repetitions of that call, intended to shake us out of our complacency and force us to accept responsibility for our actions. The message of Av is precisely this, that it was our failures – failures that we continue to repeat – that brought about these tragedies, and that we must recognize this and acknowledge our own power to change our behavior. We are not slaves to our circumstances; as human beings we are fundamentally free to control our actions, and we therefore bear the responsibility to do so.

Maimonides

Maimonides devotes two full chapters of his laws of repentance to the topic of free-will (Hil. Teshuva 5:1-3):

Free-will is given to every human being. If he wishes to turn himself to the good path and to be righteous, he has the ability to do so, and if he chooses to turn himself to the bad path, and be wicked, he has the power to do so....

Do not think... that God decrees upon a person at the beginning of his existence whether he will be righteous or wicked. It is not so! Rather, every single human being has the ability to be as righteous as Moses our Teacher, or as wicked as Jeroboam....

This concept is a major principle and the pillar of the Torah and the Commandment, as it says (Deuteronomy 30:15), "See, I have placed before you today life and good, and death and evil." And it is written (ibid. 11:26), "See, I have placed before you today blessing and curse."

Maimonides concludes his discussion of free-will stating (Hil. Teshuva 7:1):

Since, as we have explained, every human being has free-will, a man should strive to repent and to cleanse his hands of his sins, so that he should die as a penitent and merit to the life of the world to come.

The recognition of our free-will and responsibility is of fundamental importance as we enter the month of Elul – the month of teshuva (repentance). As long as we deceive ourselves into thinking that our actions are not within our control, teshuva is impossible. It is only after we accept responsibility for our deeds that we can begin the process of teshuva.

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Eikev - The Sin of Aaron

In Parshas Eikev, Moses recounts his dialogue with God in the aftermath of the sin of the golden calf and his efforts to intercede on the behalf of the Jewish people. In the course of his account, Moses mentions that God was angry not just with the Jewish people as a whole, but also with Aaron the priest (Deuteronomy 9:20), "And with Aaron God became very angry to destroy him, and I prayed for Aaron as well at that time."

This appears to be a clear statement that Aaron sinned in his actions at the time of the sin of the golden calf (as told in Exodus 32). However, this needs clarification because in Exodus there is no clear indication that God condemned Aaron's actions, and the Sages generally understand Aaron's apparent concessions at that time as an attempt to restrain and limit the sinful actions of the people who were demanding that Aaron construct a "god" for them to replace Moses.

These questions are raised by Rabbeinu Bachya (d.1340) in his commentary on this verse. He answers that God is judging Aaron is being judged according to a very high standard:

והתשובה בזה כי הקב"ה מדקדק עם הצדיקים אפילו כחוט השערה... ואע"פ שכוונתו היתה לשמים, מכל מקום המעשה לאהרן בידים היה חילול השם, ואע"פ שהוא לא חטא בו הנה החטיא את ישראל שלא בכוונה

The answer to this question is that God is demanding with the righteous to a hair's-breadth... and therefore, even though [Aaron's] intent was for the sake of Heaven, nevertheless Aaron's physical act was a desecration of the name of God, and while [Aaron] himself did not sin with [the calf], he unintentionally caused the Jewish people to sin.

So we find that Aaron is both praised and condemned for his actions at the time of the sin of the golden calf, and his actions are interpreted as both righteous and sinful. This dual perspective is reflected in the debate found in the commentaries on a somewhat vague passage in the Talmud (Sanhedrin 6b-7a). The Talmud is discussing the issue of a judge arbitrating a compromise:

רבי אליעזר בנו של רבי יוסי הגלילי אומר: אסור לבצוע, וכל הבוצע ־ הרי זה חוטא, וכל המברך את הבוצע ־ הרי זה מנאץ, ועל זה נאמר, "בצע ברך נאץ ה'"ץ אלא יקוב הדין את ההר, שנאמר, "כי המשפט לאלהים הוא", וכן משה היה אומר יקוב הדין את ההר. אבל אהרן אוהב שלום ורודף שלום, ומשים שלום בין אדם לחבירו, שנאמר, "תורת אמת היתה בפיהו ועולה לא נמצא בשפתיו בשלום ובמישור הלך אתי ורבים השיב מעון."

Rabbi Eliezer the son of R' Yosi HaGalili says: It is forbidden [for a judge] to compromise, and he who compromises sins, and anyone who blesses a compromiser blasphemes, for on this it is said (Psalms 10:3), "He who blesses a compromiser blasphemes against God."  Rather, let the law puncture through the mountain, as it says (Deuteronomy 1:17), "For the judgment is God's." And so Moses would say: "Let the law puncture through the mountain." But Aaron [who was not a judge, but a private citizen] loved peace and pursued peace and made peace between man and his fellow, as it says (Malachi 2:6), "The law of truth was in his mouth, injustice was not found in his lips, he walked with Me in peace and equity and he turned many away from sin."

While the exact ramifications of this discussion in legal terms is beyond the scope of this discussion, we find in this passage that while the Talmud condemns the encouragement of compromise by a sitting judge, it praises the pursuit of compromise outside the courtroom, as exemplified by Aaron. The Talmud continues discussing the propriety of compromise in a court setting and then concludes:

אמר רבי תנחום בר חנילאי: לא נאמר מקרא זה אלא כנגד מעשה העגל, שנאמר, "וירא אהרן ויבן מזבח לפניו." מה ראה? אמר רבי בנימין בר יפת אמר רבי אלעזר: ראה חור שזבוח לפניו, אמר: אי לא שמענא להו השתא עבדו לי כדעבדו בחור, ומיקיים בי "אם יהרג במקדש ה' כהן ונביא", ולא הויא להו תקנתא לעולם. מוטב דליעבדו לעגל, אפשר הויא להו תקנתא בתשובה.

R' Tanchum bar Chanilai said: This verse was said only with regard to the story of the [golden] calf, as it says (Exodus 32:5), "And Aaron saw and he built an altar before it."  What did he see? — R' Binyamin bar Yaphes said in the name of R' Elazar: He saw that Chur was slaughtered before him. [Aaron] said, If I do not listen to them, they will now do to me as they did to Chur, and through me (i.e. my death) will be fulfilled [the verse] (Lamentations 2:20), "if a priest and a prophet will be killed in the Sanctuary of God" and there will be no rectification for them forever! It is better that they serve the calf, for which a rectification through repentance is possible.

Here we find an explanation of why Aaron decided it was better to cooperate with the sin of the golden calf rather than directly oppose it. However, there is a significant ambiguity in the discussion. When R' Tanchum bar Chanilai says, "this verse", what verse is he actually referring to?

Rashi understands R' Tanchum bar Chanilai to be referring to the verse from Psalms cited in the earlier passage, "He who blesses a compromiser blasphemes against God." According to Rashi, R' Tanchum bar Chanilai is criticizing Aaron's action, saying that, while Aaron certainly had good intentions, he ultimately engaged in an illicit compromise.

Tosafos, however, understands R' Tanchum bar Chanilai to be referring to the verse from Malachi cited earlier with regards to Aaron, "The law of truth was in his mouth, injustice was not found in his lips, he walked with Me in peace and equity and he turned many away from sin." According to Tosafos, R' Tanchum bar Chanilai is actually defending, and even praising, Aaron, saying that through his actions at the time of the sin of the golden calf "he turned many away from sin."

It appears that Tosafos' understanding is generally accepted as the dominant opinion in this debate. This may be because it reflects a sentiment found in many other midrashic sources that discuss Aaron's role in the sin of the golden calf. For example, the medrash (Vayikra Rabba 10:3) states that is what because of his actions at the time of the sin of the golden calf, and his willingness to shift the burden of guilt from the Jewish people to himself, that Aaron was chosen to be the first, and ancestor of, the kohanim (priests).

How then, however, are we to understand the clear condemnation of Aaron's actions here in Parshas Eikev?

One possible answer is given by the Taz (R' Dovid HaLevi, d.1667) in his commentary on Rashi on this verse (בספרו דברי דוד), who suggests that perhaps the sin of Aaron was that, although his primary motivation was certainly for the sake of Heaven, because of his fear for his life, Aaron failed to pray for God to inspire the sinners to turn away from their sinful actions.

However, it would seem that the primary answer is more basic, and is found in the commentary of Rabbeinu Bachya that we quoted at the beginning of this discussion. It is certainly true that Aaron had good intentions, and that, in the big picture, his act was not truly a sin at all but an act of righteousness and self-sacrifice which, ultimately, saved many people from sin. Nevertheless, when all is said and done, there remains an inescapable element of chillul Hashem (desecration of God's name) in the fact that Aaron, one of the most righteous men of all time, not only failed to openly oppose the worshipers of the golden calf, but was actually the one who made the calf for them!

Just as justice required that God recognize and reward Aaron's good intentions, it also demanded that Aaron atone for the element of chillul Hashem in his actions. As we know, chillul Hashem is considered one of the worst possible sins. Chazal tell us that, unlike other sins, one is held liable for an unintentional chillul Hashem in a manner similar to an intentional sin (Avos 4:4) and that even repentance, Yom Kippur, and suffering cannot atone for the sin of chillul Hashem and full atonement for chillul Hashem can only be achieved through death (Yoma 86a).

For a person who had reached the heights of perfection that Aaron had achieved, this flaw was all the more glaring and significant. Thus, there is no real contradiction between the various sources that praise Aaron for his actions and those that condemn his actions.

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Va'eschanan - The Mitzva of Reciting the Shema

The Torah (Deuteronomy 6:7) tells us, "and you shall speak of them... when you lie down and when you get up." This is the mitzva of krias Shema - reciting the Shema. The essential idea of the Shema is kabbalas ol malchus Shamaim - accepting the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven, and the mitzva obligates us to do so twice a day at specific times , once in the morning and once at night.

The Noam HaMitzvos (R' Naftali Hertz, d.1912) explains (Mitzva 420) that the obligation to recite the Shema both by day and by night is intended to convey the message that commitment to the service of God and the observance of His commandments applies to us in all times and all circumstances. Whether in good times, symbolized by day, or bad times, symbolized by night, whether we are rich or poor, free or oppressed, we remain equally obligated to obey the commandments of God.

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Devarim - The Rebuke of Moses

Sefer Devarim is primarily made up of speeches given by Moses in the last several weeks of his life in which he admonishes and rebukes the Jewish people in preparation for their entry into the land of Israel. Rashi (Devarim 1:3), citing Sifrei, points out that Moses "did not admonish Israel" until shortly before his death, a practice he learned from Jacob, who rebuked his sons shortly before his death. The Sages gave several reasons why it is proper to reserve the rebuke of others until shortly before one's death:

1. So that a person will not rebuke a person more than once for the same sin.
2. So that the person who will received the rebuke will not meet his rebuker again and be embarrassed.
3. So that the person receiving the rebuke will not bear a grudge against his rebuker.
4. So that they will part in peace.

At first glance, it might seem that the last two reasons contradict each other. Moreover, with regard to the third reason, why does delaying rebuke until shortly before death ensure that the recipient of the rebuke will not hold a grudge? However, it would seem that the experience of receiving rebuke from a person who is soon to depart from this world, especially from one who is deeply beloved to you (as was Moses to the Jewish people and Jacob to his sons), is profoundly different from ordinary rebuke. The knowledge that the rebuker will soon depart from this world creates an openness to rebuke, and a desire to clear the air of all past issues, that enables to the recipient to receive his rebuke without resentment. Thus, not only does the person receiving the rebuke not resent it, but rebuke at this point can actually accomplish a reconciliation that would have been impossible beforehand.

The Ben Ish Chai

The Ben Ish Chai (Rav Yosef Chaim of Baghdad, d.1904), in his Sefer Malach haBris (on Parshas Devarim), raises a far more basic question. The Torah commands us to rebuke our fellow Jews, as it says (Leviticus 19:17), "הוכיח תוכיח את עמיתך" - "You shall rebuke your fellow," and the Sages (Talmud, Bava Metzia 31a) tell us that this obligation applies "even a hundred times"! How then can we say that rebuke should be reserved to a once-in-a-lifetime event, shortly before death?

The Ben Ish Chai answers that there are two forms of rebuke and admonishment. One form is the rebuke given to a specific individual for a specific sin, in which the sinner is directly confronted with his guilt. The other form is a general admonishment on the importance of doing good and avoiding evil, in which the speaker arouses the listener to repentance by discussing the evil of a variety of wicked deeds without specifying any particular culpability on the part of the listener.

The difference between the two approaches is that the latter avoids causing any embarrassment or resentment on the part of the recipient. It is with regard to such rebuke that the Sages say that it should be repeated "even a hundred times." 

In our context here in Devarim, however, we are discussing rebuke of the first category, in which Moses directly confronted the Jewish people with their sins. It is only with regard to such rebuke that the Sages says that one should reserve rebuke until shortly before death.

Of course, it should go without saying that even under these circumstances, rebuke must be given appropriately and correctly, with a deep concern for the dignity of the listeners. Thus, the Ben Ish Chai continues, even here, when Moses directly rebuked the people for their past sins, he only spoke in the presence of "all Israel," even though only a small minority had actually been guilty in any given sin.

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Mattos-Masei - Do Not "Flatter" the Land

In Parshas Masei the Torah discusses the laws of murder (both intentional and non-intentional) and its penalties. Towards the end of this discussion, the Torah tells us that it is forbidden to accept a monetary ransom in order to exempt a murderer from his criminal penalties (i.e. execution in the case of intentional murder or exile to a city of refuge in the case of non-intentional murder).

The Torah then states (Number 35:33):

ולא תחניפו את הארץ אשר אתם בה, כי הדם הוא יחניף את הארץ ולארץ לא יכפר לדם אשר שפך בה כי אם בדם שפכו.

Translating this verse is difficult, because the root חנף, which is used twice in the verse, is being used in a very unconventional way. According to Rashi (based on Onkelos) the verse should be translated:

And you shall not bring guilt upon the land that you are in, for blood makes the land guilty, and the land cannot atone for the blood that is spilled within it except by the blood of he who spilled it.

The basic point of the verse is clear, a court is not permitted to accept alternate forms of compensation (literally, "כופר" - "atonement") for the crime of murder, for murder is a crime of such severity that failure to apply the prescribed penalty brings guilt upon the entire society. (The term ארץ - "land" - is frequently used to mean civilization or society (as opposed to literal earth), as in the well known phrase "דרך ארץ", literally "the way of the land", which is best translated as "civilized behavior.")

However, while this is clearly the basic meaning of the verse, it doesn't address why the Torah uses the terms "תחניפו" in such an unusual way. The conventional translation of חנופה is flattery, and a literal translation of the verse would be:

And you shall not flatter the land that you are in, for blood flatters the land....

What could this possibly mean?

Rav Moshe Feinstein

Rav Moshe Feinstein (d.1986) finds a profoundly important lesson in this apparently strange wording (ספר דרש משה):

הנכון לענ"ד דאף דכל המלכיות מקפידות על שפיכות דמים, מ"מ יש חילוק גדול בין קפידתם לאיסור ש"ד שבתורה. דקפידת המלכיות הוא מצד ישוב העולם... ולכן אם נדמה לו שאדרבה חברו מקלקל ישוב העולם לפי דעתו הסכלה, הורג לחברו. ומצד זה יש מלחמות בעולם, ועוד מצדיקים עצמם בחשבם שלא פעלו עול אלא עוד תקנו בזה. וגם ודאי אין מקפידים על חיי שעה כלל, ולא על חיי זקן, כידוע שאין הרופאים משתדלים כ"כ בעד זקן.

אבל איסור התורה הוא מצד חשיבות האדם, ולכן אף שאין צורך בו לישוב העולם נמי אסור להורגו באותו החומר עצמו. ואף לשוטה ואף לחיי שעה ישנו אותו האיסור עצמו ומותר בשביל זה לחלל שבת.

נמצא כשאחד הורג חברו מחמת שלפי דעתו מקלקל ישוב העולם, הוא מחניף לארץ כפשוטו. שלפי דעתו, האדם הוא טפל לארץ, ולא כהאמת, שהוא דרך התורה, שאדרבה הארץ טפל להאדם.

In my humble opinion, the proper explanation [of the unusual terminology in this verse] is that, while all nations prohibit murder, there is a great distinction between the prohibition of the nations and the Torah's prohibition against murder. The nations prohibit murder because of yishuv ha'olam  (lit. "settlement of the world", i.e. maintaining a stable functioning society).... Therefore, if it seems to a person, in his senseless opinion, that, on the contrary, his fellow man is detrimental to society, he will kill him. It is this that brings about wars in the world. Not only do they justify themselves as not committing a crime, but they see themselves as improving the world! Certainly they will not be concerned about the lives of those who are already close to death, or the lives of the elderly (as it is well-known that the doctors do not exert as much effort on behalf of the elderly).

The Torah's prohibition [of murder], however, is rooted in the inherent value of a human being. Therefore, even if he does not contribute to society, the prohibition of murder still applies to him with the same level of severity. The prohibition applies equally even to one who is mentally incompetent, or one who is close to death, and we are permitted to desecrate the Sabbath for their sake.

From this we understand that when a person murders his fellow man because he believes him to be detrimental to society, he is, in fact, "flattering" the land (i.e. society) in a literal sense. For, in his mind, the human being is secondary to society, in contradiction to the truth, which is the way of the Torah, that society is secondary to the human being.

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Pinchas - The Miracles of Daily Life

At the end of Parshas Pinchas, we read of the various communal offerings made in the Temple on the mo'adim - the special "appointed" times of the year. Conventionally, the term mo'adim includes all the various festivals of the Jewish year, thus the Torah goes on to list the communal offerings of the festivals of Passover, Shavuos, Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Sukkos and Shemini Atzeres. However, the Torah's discussion of the special offerings of the  mo'adim seems to go far beyond the conventional understanding of the term, and includes not only the festivals but also Rosh Chodesh (the new month), the Sabbath, and even the daily tamid offering.

R' Samson Raphael Hirsch (Numbers 28:2 and in his commentary on the Siddur, p.23) notes that the inclusion of the daily tamid offering into the category of the mo'adim conveys "a Truth of no small importance". He writes (in his Siddur):

God appointed מועדים, special occasions that attest to His rule and summon His people to His presence, to commemorate annually His mighty acts in Egypt, at the Red Sea, on Mount Sinai and in the wilderness. These miracles actually involved suspension by God of the natural order which He Himself had instituted, and thus bear eloquent witness to His greatness. In the same manner, God also appointed the transitions of morning and evening, which occur daily with clock-like regularity, to be מועדים too. These daily, "ordinary" natural phenomena are also to serve as messengers testifying to God's power and summoning the people to worship Him, to demonstrate to us the hand of God as it can be seen even in the course of the world, and to call each of us to come before Him.

For the very steadiness, the regularity, of the phenomena of nature is a much clearer, more wonderful manifestation of Divine wisdom and omnipotence than the suspension of these natural laws when God's miracles were executed. In fact the purpose of these special acts of God which interrupted the regular order of nature was to point to Him as the Lawgiver of these natural laws, lest the thought of Him as Regulator, Master, and Lord of the world order be lost through the steady regularity of the natural phenomena.

In this passage, Rav Hirsch is articulating a very basic concept. Contrary to how we often think, the laws of nature are no less a product of God's will and power than even the most dramatic open miracles. In fact, fundamentally, the only distinction between the laws of nature and open miracles is that God apparently prefers the laws of nature to be the "normal" mode of operation for His universe. As Rav Hirsch points out, both here and elsewhere in his writings, the regularity and predictability of the natural laws can cause us to overlook or forget that they are not fundamentally any different from outright miracles. Indeed, the primary function of miracles is precisely to remind us that all of the natural world is subject to God's will, and that even the most ordinary of natural events is actually a miracle.

The principle being taught here by Rav Hirsch can be found in many earlier sources. In his commentary on Exodus 13:16, the Ramban (Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, also known as Nachmanides, d.1270) develops this theme at some length, arguing that the function of miracles is to testify to the truth of the basic principles of belief, that God is all powerful and that He supervises and manages the events of this world. The Ramban summarizes this idea in a famous statement:

ומן הניסים הגדולים המפורסמים אדם מודה בנסים הנסתרים, שהם יסוד התורה כולה. שאין לאדם חלק בתורת משה רבינו עד שיאמין שכל דברינו ומקרינו כולם נסים, אין בהם טבע ומנהגו שך עולם, בין ברבים בין ביחיד.

From the great public miracles, man is led to acknowledge the hidden miracles, for they (i.e. the hidden miracles) are the foundation of the entire Torah. For a man can have no share in the Torah of Moses until he believes that everything that happens to us, whether as a community or as individuals, is entirely miraculous, and there is no element of "nature" or "the way of the world" in them.

Sometimes people, especially children, ask why God doesn't perform miracles for us nowadays. In fact, with the exception of the period immediately following the Exodus from Egypt, miracles have always been relatively rare events. Even in the days of the prophets, the ordinary Jew lived a life governed, on the surface at least, by natural laws. Why doesn't God perform miracles for on a regular basis? Wouldn't that make it easier for us to be better and more faithful Jews?

There are many answers to this question (not the least being that, as we see from the sins of the golden calf and the spies, the mere fact that one has witnessed open miracles does not ensure that one will avoid even obvious sins). This principle that we have just learned from Rav Hirsch and the Ramban gives us a deeper insight into why this is so. Ultimately, the will of God is not that we should recognize Him when He performs open miracles. God wants us to recognize His presence in every aspect of the natural world. In even the most ordinary and mundane elements of life, we should see the wisdom and kindness of the Creator.

Rav Avigdor Miller

One recent figure who truly embodied this idea was Rav Avigdor Miller ז"ל (d.2001). Rav Miller was famous for his ability to appreciate the wisdom and kindness of God in every aspect of life. I once heard Rav Simcha Bunim Cohen, a prominent Lakewood rabbi who is married to Rav Miller's granddaughter, speak of a minor incident he witnessed with Rav Miller that illustrated his unique ability in this area. Rabbi Cohen was accompanying Rav Miller on one of his regular walks in Rav Miller's Brooklyn neighborhood. As they were walking, Rav Miller noticed a peach pit lying on the sidewalk. Pausing in his walk, Rav Miller began to jump up and down on the peach pit. Somewhat bemused by Rav Miller's surprising behavior, Rabbi Cohen asked him what he was doing. Rav Miller pointed to the peach pit and asked him if it appeared damaged. Rabbi Cohen responded that it looked fine. Then Rav Miller pointed out that the peach pit is so hard that he had been unable to break it open even by jumping up and down on it, yet if it was placed in the ground and watered, after a while it would simply open up on its own and a delicate new plant would grow from it, eventually developing into a new peach tree. From this we see the wisdom and kindness of the Creator, Rav Miller continued, for he provided the seed with a strong protective shell, yet that hard shell will automatically open when it is time for the young tree to come out.

This story represents an ideal that we all need to work towards. We need to be aware of God's presence, of His wisdom and kindness, in every moment of our lives. We should see him in the food we eat, in the functioning of our bodies, and in every aspect, both human and natural, of the world around us. Rav Miller himself wrote a great deal about this idea, much of which is based upon the classic mussar work, Chovos HaLevavos. In particular, the second section of the Chovos HaLevavos, called the Shaar HaBechina (The Gate of Examination), focuses on this essential concept.

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Balak - The School of Abraham and the School of Balaam

In Parshas Balak we encounter the enigmatic case of the wicked prophet Balaam. The very idea of a wicked prophet raises obvious questions. Perhaps the most basic question is how can a person who speaks to God choose to act wickedly?

The key to this puzzle is found in the mishna in Pirkei Avos (5:19 or nearby) in which the Sages teach us:

כל מי שיש בידו שלשה דברים הללו מתלמידיו של אברהם אבינו, ושלשה דברים אחרים מתלמידיו של בלעם הרשע.

עין טובה ורוח נמוכה ונפש שפלה - מתלמידיו של אברהם אבינו. 

עין רעה ורוח גבוה ונפש רחבה - מתלמידיו של בלעם הרשע.

Whoever has these three things is from the disciples of our father Abraham, and whoever has three other things is from the disciples of the wicked Balaam.

A good eye, a subdued spirit, and a modest personality - [such a person is] from the disciples of our father, Abraham.

A wicked eye, an uplifted spirit, and a greedy personality - [such a person is] from the disciples of the wicked Balaam.

The commentaries discuss the exact nature of each of these traits (and bring Scriptural examples of each in connection to Abraham and Balaam). The basic explanation of these three traits (and its opposite extreme) is as follows:

• עין טובה - A Good Eye: This refers to the trait of הסתפקות - being satisfied with what one has. The opposite is the "wicked eye", which is a jealousy of others and a desire to possess that which belongs to them. The full extent of the "good eye" - as defined by Rabbeinu Yonah - is generosity, i.e. the ability to give to others.
• רוח נמוכה - A Subdued Spirit: This refers to humility. The opposite is the "uplifted spirit", i.e. arrogance and pride.
• נפש שפלה - A Modest Personality: This refers to the trait of self-control with regard to physical desires. The opposite is the "greedy personality" that constantly seeks to satisfy every desire.

The mishna continues:

מה בין תלמידיו של אברהם אבינו לתלמידיו של בלעם הרשע? תלמידיו של אברהם אבינו אוכלין בעולם הזה ונוחלין בעולם הבא, שנאמר, "להנחיל אוהבי יש ואוצרותיהם אמלא." אבל תלמידיו של בלעם הרשע יורשין גיהנם ויורדין לבאר שחת, שנאמר, "ואתה אלהים תורידם לבאר שחת אנשי דמים ומרמה לא יחצו ימיהם ואני אבטח בך."

What is the [ultimate] difference between the disciples of our father Abraham and the disciples of the wicked Balaam? The disciples of our father Abraham eat in this world and inherit the world to come, as it says (Proverbs 8:21), "To cause those that love Me to inherit substance [in the world to come], and I shall fill their storehouses [in this world]." But the disciples of the wicked Balaam inherit Gehinom and descend into the pit of destruction, as it says (Psalms 55:24), "But you, God, shall bring them down into the pit of destruction, men of blood and deceit shall not live out half their days, and I shall trust in You."

There is a great deal to discuss in this mishna, but we will focus on a very basic issue. Although the mishna is contrasting two groups of "disciples", the disciples of Abraham and the disciples of Balaam, it is not speaking of literal students of these men. Rather, a disciple is one who follows in the path of another. Thus, Abraham and Balaam represent two opposing schools of thought, each of which has followers.

Now, whenever we speak of opposing schools of thought, we are always speaking of two different approaches to the same subject matter. (Thus, we never speak of a debate between a school of thought in art and a school of thought in chemistry.) If there is a conflict between the school of Abraham and the school of Balaam, then both schools must be dealing with the same basic issues.

The Tiferes Yisrael (commentary on the Mishna by R' Yisroel Lipschutz, d.1860) explains the nature of the two schools of thought:

[מתלמידיו של אברהם אבינו] אפילו הוא עכו"ם, עכ"פ הוא מתלמידי אאע"ה שלימד לכל בני עולם דעת אלהים ומדות ישרות. ומה"ט לא נקט תנא תלמידי משרע"ה, דתלמידי משרע"ה צריכים לקיים כל התורה.

[One who possesses these three traits,] even if he is a gentile, is still from the disciples of our father, Abraham, for he taught all mankind the knowledge of God and upright character. It is for this reason that the mishna did not say, "the disciples of Moses, our teacher", for the disciples of Moses must uphold the entire Torah.

Thus, the school of Abraham is one that is far broader than the conventional limits of "Judaism," and applies to all mankind. It is the school that follows the basic teachings of Abraham, i.e. the knowledge of God (דעת אלהים) and upright character (מדות ישרות).

As is clear from Scripture, Balaam also fully recognized God as the Creator and All-Powerful Lord of the universe. Balaam also had דעת אלהים - the knowledge of God. However, while Balaam's intellectual recognition of God was of an extraordinarily high level, he did not recognize the importance of מדות ישרות - upright character. To Balaam, and those who follow in his path, the knowledge of God is all that matters. Yet, not only is this insufficient, but, as the mishna states, the knowledge of God without upright character is literally the path to damnation.

R' Samson Raphael Hirsch

This idea is expressed by R' Samson Raphael Hirsch in his commentary on the Torah in this parsha (Numbers 22:8) (emphasis added):

We saw in Abraham's time that, in the midst of a polytheistic world, there was still a Malchi Zedek, the priest of the highest god, who was the One and only God of the Abrahamites, how Job and his friends appeared as pure honourers of this One, so we see Balaam also considering himself and calling himself solely in service of this One.

Altogether, the monotheistic truth as opposed to the polytheistic error is not the special, and certainly not the whole, characteristic of Judaism. That is rather the monotheistic truth with the full realization of what it entails for human living, the identifying One God with one mode of life, by His revealed Law.

But Balaam's monotheistic spiritual height appears morally muddled, far off from even that of Malchi Zedek, far from a Job and his friends. His high spiritual gifts bringing him near to God were subordinated to his egoism and placed themselves at the service of earthly potentates and mighty ones and their lowest desires.

This is a profoundly important lesson. A Jew can only function as a Jew, a disciple of Moses, if he is already functioning on the more basic level of a proper human being, a disciple of Abraham. While a proper human being must have knowledge of God, that is only the beginning. To be a true disciple of Abraham one must also have מדות ישרות - proper character traits. Otherwise, regardless of one's apparent spiritual achievements, one is actually on the path to the pit of destruction.

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Chukas - Chukim: The Importance of the Non-Rational Commandments

A famous passage in the Talmud (Yoma 67b), based on Leviticus 18:4, tells us that there are two basic categories of mitzvos - mishpatim and chukim:

ת"ר "את משפטי תעשו" - דברים שאלמלא לא נכתבו דין הוא שיכתבו. אלו הן: ע"ז, וגילוי עריות, ושפיכות דמים, וגזל, וברכת השם. "ואת חקותי תשמרו" - דברים שהשטן ועכומ"ז משיבים עליהם. ואלו הן: אכילת חזיר, ולבישת שעטנז, וחליצת יבמה, וטהרת מצורע, ושעיר המשתלח. ושמא תאמר מעשה תהו הן, ת"ל "אני ה'" - אני ה' חקקתים, אין לך רשות להרהר בהם.

Our Rabbis taught: [The Torah states,] "You shall do my judgements (mishpatim)" - These are matters that, if they had not been written [in the Torah], reason would require that they be written. These include [the prohibitions against] idolatry, sexual immorality, murder, robbery, and blasphemy. "And you shall guard my decrees (chukim)" - These are matters that the soton and the idolaters challenge [as being unreasonable]. These include [laws such as the prohibitions against] eating pig, wearing shaatnez (fabric made from wool and linen), [and the laws of] chalitza of a yevama (widowed sister-in-law who is subject to levirate mariage), the purification of a metzora ("leper"), and the goat that is sent away [as part of the Yom Kippur ritual in the Temple]. And lest you say that these are empty matters, the Torah teaches us, saying, "I am Hashem" - I, Hashem, have decreed these laws, and you do not have the right to doubt them.

The Talmud defines mishpatim as laws that "if they had not been written, reason would require that they be written." In other words, these mitzvos serve functions that are clearly comprehensible by human reason, to the degree that we would recognize the need for such laws even if God had not commanded them. Chukim, however, are simply decrees from on high. As Rashi puts it, "חק משמע דבר שאינו אלא גזירת מצות מלך" - "Chok implies something that is nothing but a decree by command of the king." From a human perspective, a chok appears to be arbitrary, even irrational. It is certainly not something that we would have come up with on our own.

As the Talmud points out, throughout history the chukim have been mocked, both internally, by Jews who have fallen prey to the doubts of their inner soton (the inner "opponent" that seduces man to sin and heresy) and, externally, by the nations of the world. However, as the people of God, who merited to hear God speak to us directly at Mt. Sinai, we have no right to doubt the authority of these laws simply because we do not understand their purpose.

The law of the para aduma - the "red heifer" - that we read of in this week's parsha is considered the quintessential chok, the perfect example of a mitzva that does not make sense rationally (mainly due to its paradoxical nature). Rashi, in his first comment on the parsha, writes:

זאת חקת התורה - לפי שהשטן ואומות העולם מונין את ישראל לומר, מה המצוה הזאת? ומה טעם יש בה? לפיכך כתב בה "חקה" - גזירה היא מלפני, אין לך רשות להרהר אחריה.

[The Torah states,] "This is the chok of the Torah." - The soton and the nations of the world afflict the Jewish people saying, "What is this mitzva? What reason is there in it?" Therefore He wrote by [this mitzva] "chuka" - it is a decree from before Me; you do not have authority to question it.

Maimonides
(traditional depiction)

It is important to understand that the chukim are not truly irrational commands, but simply commands that we are not able to understand due, as Maimonides puts it (Guide for the Perplexed III:26 - Friedlander translation), "either to the deficiency of our knowledge or the weakness of our intellect." As Maimonides states further:

[T]here is a cause for every commandment: every positive or negative precept serves a useful object; in some cases the usefulness is evident, e.g., the prohibition of murder and theft; in others the usefulness is not so evident, e.g., the prohibition of enjoying the fruit of a tree in the first three years (Lev. xix. 73), or of a vineyard in which other seeds have been growing (Deut. xxii. 9). Those commandments, whose object is generally evident, are called "judgments" (mishpatim); those whose object is not generally clear are called "ordinances" (hukkim). Thus they say [in reference to the words of Moses]: Ki lo dabar rek hu mi-kem (lit." for it is not a vain thing for you," Deut. xxxii. 74); "It is not in vain, and if it is in vain, it is only so through you." That is to say, the giving of these commandments is not a vain thing and without any useful object; and if it appears so to you in any commandment, it is owing to the deficiency in your comprehension. You certainly know the famous saying that Solomon knew the reason for all commandments except that of the "red heifer."

All of the mitzvos have reasons, however their reasons are not always known to us. In some cases, such as the para aduma, the mitzva may even appear fundamentally illogical. The chok therefore represents the essence of lishma - the performance of the commandments for their own sake, as Divine commands. By a chok one does not know what purpose is served by the command, one performs the command simply because God has commanded it.

R' Samson Raphael Hirsch

Ultimately, this principle applies to all the mitzvos. Even with regard to the mishpatim, which we are able to explain, our fundamental obligation to obey the mitzva is rooted not in the fact that the mitzva happens to correspond with what we believe to be morally obligatory, but in the fact that it is a Divine command. As R' Samson Raphael Hirsch (d.1888) writes in his foreword to Horeb:

It is commandment, the command of God, that constitutes duty for the Israelite, and the will of God that is the sole basis of all our duties. ... God's command... constitutes duty for us, and God's will is the only basis on which our obligation rests. ...

Even, therefore, if every Divine precept were a riddle to us and presented us with a thousand unsolved and insoluble problems, the obligatory character of the commandments would not in the slightest degree be impaired by this. Whatever command or prohibition of God it may be that prompts one to ask why one should do this and not do that, there is but one and the same answer: Because it is the will of God, and it is your duty to be the servant of God with all your powers and resources and with every breath of your life.

This answer is not only adequate; it is essentially the only one possible, and it would remain so if we were ourselves able to penetrate into the reason for every commandment, or if God Himself had disclosed to us the reasons for His commandments. We should have to perform them, not because there was such-and-such a reason for any commandment, but because God had ordained it. ...

The Jew who sincerely carries out and observes [the] commandment[s] with the simple idea, which everyone can grasp, that he is thereby performing God's will and so fulfilling his vocation as a man and an Israelite, is, in the complete sense of the term, a Jew and a servant of God, even though he has never unravelled the significance or perceived the connection of the parts of any one of all the Divine commandments. Such a Jew has attained to the highest bliss of earthly life. For the man of pure heart there is no higher or more holy consciousness than that of having fulfilled the Divine will.

R' Yechiel Michel Epstein
The Aruch HaShulchan

Similarly, R' Yechiel Michel Epstein (d.1908), in his Aruch HaShulchan (יורה דעה רמ:ב), writes with regard to the mitzva of honoring one's parents:

כיבוד אב ואם היא מהמצוות השכליות ונתפשטה בכל אום ולשון וגם הכופרים בתורה נזהרים בה מפני השכל והטבע. ואנחנו עמב"י נצטוינו על כל מצוה שכליות לבלי לעשותה מפני השכל אלא מפני ציוי הקב"ה בתורתו הקדושה. ועל זה נאמר, "והיה עקב תשמעון את המשפטים האלה וגו'." דמקודם כתיב, "ושמרת את החוקים ואת המשפטים וגו'," ולזה אומר, "והיה עקב תשמעון את המשפטים האלה," כלומר דהחוקים וודאי תעשו מפני שאתם שומעים לקולי, אבל עיקר השכר הוא שגם המשפטים - שהם המצות השכליות - תעשו מפני השמיעה, כלומר מפני שאני מצוה אתכם ולא מפני השכל. וזהו שאמר דוד, "מגיד דבריו ליעקב חוקיו ומשפטיו לישראל." וזהו עיקר גדול במצות התורה.

The mitzva of honoring one's father and mother is one of the mitzvos sichliyos (rationally comprehensible commandments) and it is found among all nations and peoples. Even those who deny the Torah are careful to uphold this obligation due to its rationality and because of human nature. However, we, the Jewish people, are commanded with regard to all the mitzvos sichliyos not to fulfill them due to their rationality, but because God has commanded us to do so in His holy Torah. It is in this regard that the Torah (Deut. 7:12) states, "And it shall be, if you listen to to these mishpatim..." [thatGod will bless you]. For immediately before, the Torah writes, "And you shall keep [the commandment,] the chukim and the mishpatim...", and it is in this regard that the Torah says [the promise of reward] "And it shall be, if you listen to to these mishpatim." [God is] saying that, by the chukim, it is certain that you are doing them [only] because you are listening to My voice, but the primary merit is that also by the mishpatim - i.e. the mitzvos sichliyos - you should perform them because you are listening [to Me]. In other words, [you should do them] because I commanded you [to do so] and not because they are rational. This is what David said (Psalms 147:19), "He tells His word to Jacob, His chukim and mishpatim to Israel." This is a great principle of the mitzvos of the Torah.

(It isn't entirely clear how the Aruch HaShulchan sees this idea in Psalms 147:19. I believe his proof-text is based upon the context of the following verse which states "ומשפטים בל ידעום" - "and [the other nations] do not know the mishpatim." In other words, the non-Jewish nations do not truly know even the mishpatim, for, at best, they see them merely as human laws, and, all too often, they fail to recognize many of them at all. Whereas the Jewish people are not dependent upon their own reasoning to know the mishpatim, for they know them the same way they know the chukim, through God's revelation in His Torah.)

The function of the chukim is precisely to teach us this fundamental lesson. Thus, the classic Sefer HaChinuch (c.14th century), a work that enumerates and discusses each of the 613 commandments, refrains from his normal practice of giving a reason for the mitzva when he discusses the commandment of the para aduma (Mitzva 397). He writes:

אע"פ שמלאני לבבי לכתב רמזים מטעמי המצוות שקדמו על צד הפשט, עם ההתנצלות שהמלאכה לחנך בה בני והנערים חבריו, במצוה זו רפו ידי ואירא לפצות פי עליה כלל גם בפשט, כי ראיתי לרז"ל האריכו הדיבור בעומק סודה וגודל ענינה, עד שאמרו שהמלך שלמה השיג לדעת בריבוי חכמתו כל טעמי התורה חוץ מזו, שאמר עליה, "אמרתי אחכמה והיא רחוקה ממני." גם אמרו במדרש רבי תנחומא: רבי יוסי ברבי חנינא אומר, אמר לו הקב"ה למשה, לך אני מגלה טעם פרה ולא לאחרים. וכיוצא באלו הדברים רבים.

Although I have been so presumptuous as to write hints of the simpler reasons for the previous mitzvos, with the justification that the task [of this work] is to educate my son and his young friends, with regard to this mitzva my hands become weak and I am afraid to open my mouth even to give the simplest explanation of it. For I have seen how the Sages speak at length of the depth of its mystery and its great significance, to the point that they say that King Solomon, with his abundant wisdom, was able to grasp the reasons of all the commandments except this one, about which he said, "I said I will be wise but it is far from me." (Ecclesiastes 7:23) The Sages also say, in the medrash of Rabbi Tanchuma: Rabbi Yosi b'Rabbi Chanina says, God said to Moses: To you I will reveal the reason for the para [aduma], but not to others. And there are many similar statements.

R' Yaakov Kamenetzky

R' Yaakov Kamenetzky (d.1986) points out (אמת ליעקב עה"ת) that the Chinuch certainly would never claim that the various reasons he gives for the mitzvos are the final and comprehensive reasons for the commandments. They are simply his own insights, given to help his fellow Jews derive moral lessons from the mitzvos. If so, R' Yaakov asks, why did he feel that he had to refrain from giving such a reason for para aduma? Because, R' Yaakov answers, by para aduma the mystery is itself the primary function of the mitzva. Despite whatever insights one might be able to give into the meaning of the para aduma, in the final analysis its main function is to teach us that we must obey God's commands even when we are unable to understand them.

The truth is that the distinction between the mishpatim and the chukim is far from simple. We live in a world where even the most "obvious" of the mishpatim are no longer self-evident. Many of the laws against sexual immorality are now seen by many supposedly educated and civilized people as irrational and even immoral. Even the "ultimate" rational law, the prohibition against murder, is no longer unambiguously obvious to many apparently civilized people in the world today. Thus the philosopher, Peter Singer, who is widely considered one of the most influential philosophers alive today and whose books are required reading in many university courses, has argued in favor of broadly expanding the legality of euthanasia and infanticide (no, not abortion). There is no immoral act that human beings cannot justify to themselves if they wish to do so. What seems like a mishpat in one society, may well seem like a chok in another. Ultimately, our commitment to the mitzvos must be based on our belief in the Divine origin of the Torah, and our obligation to obey God's will as expressed in His Torah.

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Korach - Dealing with Machlokes

The Chofetz Chaim

The Chofetz Chaim (R' Yisrael Meir Kagan d.1933) used to tell a story (recorded in ספר חפץ חיים עה"ת on Parshas Korach) about a machlokes - a dispute - that broke out in a small town between a resident and the head of the community. The machlokes deteriorated to the point that the resident threatened to inform on the head of the community to the government about various illegalities he was involved in. When the resident's wife learned of this, she tried to convince him not to do so, pointing out that the head of the community had been responsible for freeing their own sons from the draft. (Referring to the infamous Cantonist decrees of 19th century Russia.) "If they investigate him," argued the wife, "they will also arrest our sons!" The husband replied, "It is worth it! It is worth it for all of us to be imprisoned, as long as we can lower him from his position!"

The Chofetz Chaim pointed out that once a person is involved in a machlokes, there is no telling where it may end.

The incident with Korach in this week's parsha is the classic case of machlokes. Although he was one of the greatest men of his generation, Korach's desire for honor and his jealousy of Moses and Aaron led him entirely off the proper path. His name is now used to epitomize the baal machlokes (disputatious person) to the degree that the mitzva to avoid machlokes is "לא יהיה כקרח ועדתו" - "Do not be like Korach and his congregation" (Numbers 17:5 - Talmud, Sanhedrin 110a).

In Pirkei Avos (5:17) we learn:

כל מחלוקת שהיא לשם שמים סופה להתקיים, ושאינה לשם שמים אין סופה להתקיים. איזו היא מחלוקת שהוא לשם שמים - זו מחלוקת הלל ושמאי, ושאינו לשם שמים - זו מחלוקת קרח וכל עדתו

Any machlokes which is for the sake of Heaven, "its end will be upheld," and a machlokes that is not for the sake of heaven, "its end will not be upheld." What is a a machlokes that is for the sake of Heaven? This is the machlokes of Hillel and Shamai. What is a machlokes that is not for the sake of Heaven? This is the machlokes of Korach and all his congregation.

Here we find that the Sages made a critical distinction between two kinds of machlokes, "for the sake of Heaven" and "not for the sake of Heaven." However, there are a number of aspects of this mishna that need to be explained. Most importantly, what exactly is the difference between these two categories?

The commentaries explain that the essence of machlokes for the sake of Heaven is a dispute in which all the disputants are motivated by the commitment to determine the true will of God as expressed in His Torah. While they may disagree about the details, the core motivation of both sides is identical. This is the kind of dispute we find throughout the Talmud and traditional literature, and it is exemplified by the famous disputes between the great Talmudic sages Hillel and Shamai.

The Baal Shem Tov, R' Yisrael Baal Shem (d.1760) (ספר הבעש"ט - ואתחנן מט) made an analogy to a group of architects who were appointed to design a palace for the king. The architects met to begin their plans and they began to disagree. Each one had a different idea as to what would make a more beautiful palace. Even though they are in disagreement about the details of the palace, their basic goals and motivation are identical. Each one seeks to express his love and respect for the king in the best possible way.

Similarly, taught the Baal Shem Tov, when Torah scholars argue for the sake of Heaven, as we find in the Talmud, their disagreement is only on the details of how to serve God properly, but their basic values and motivations are the same.

This idea can help us understand the famous Talmudic passage (Kiddushin 30b):

א"ר חייא בר אבא, אפי' האב ובנו, הרב ותלמידו, שעוסקים בתורה בשער אחד, נעשים אויבים זה את זה ואינם זזים משם עד שנעשים אוהבים זה את זה

R' Chiya bar Abba said, Even a father and son [or] a rebbi and disciple who study Torah at together (literally, "in one gate") become enemies of each other but they do not move from there until they love each other.

Initially, when a dispute in Torah study begins, each one sees the other's approach as improper. However, as the discussion continues and each one comes to understand the other's perspective and reasoning, they recognize that the disagreement is not rooted in a rejection of their most basic values, but only on the details of their application. Thus, their love is rekindled even stronger than before. (See the עץ יוסף there in the עין יעקב who gives a mashal from the עקדה that is very similar to the mashal quoted above from the Baal Shem Tov.)

The Sheivet Mussar (R' Eliyahu of Smyrna, d.1729) (37:48) comments similarly on the famous Talmudic passage (Brachos 64a), תלמידי חכמים מרבים שלום בעולם - "Torah scholars cause peace to increase in the world":

והנה אע"פ שלעיני הרואים נראה כמחזיקים במחלקת בהיותם נלחמים זה עם זה בהלכה... אדרבה מחלקת זה אינו אלא שלום

Behold, even though to the observer it seems as if [the Torah scholars] are engaging in machlokes in their disputes with each other on the law... on the contrary, such machlokes is nothing but peace!

While the Sheivet Mussar explains this idea in rather esoteric kabbalistic terms, the basic idea is clear. Whatever the disagreements may be between Torah scholars, they are rooted in core values that are not in dispute at all. The love of God, the commitment to obey His will as expressed in the Torah, and the commitment to absolute truth in the pursuit of those goals - these are held to by both sides and, when all is said and done, it is these values that really matter. The machlokes of the Sages is only on the surface, but with regard to the most basic and central issues they are entirely בשלום - at peace. Indeed, the very passion with which each side argues for its position and attacks the others testifies to their commitment to these shared values.

This principle, that machlokes for the sake of Heaven refers to machlokes where both sides are seeking the same goal of truth, helps us understand the odd language used by the mishna, "כל מחלוקת שהיא לשם שמים סופה להתקיים" - "Any machlokes which is for the sake of Heaven, 'its end will be upheld.'" What does the mishna mean by "סופה להתקיים" - "its end will be upheld"? Many commentaries explain this to mean that the true goal - the "end" for which both sides are striving - will be upheld. Thus the Bartenura (commentary on the mishna written by R' Ovadia m'Bartenura, d.1515) writes:

ואני שמעתי פירוש 'סופה' - תכליתה המבוקש מענינה. והמחלוקת שהיא לשם שמים, התכלית והסוף המבוקש מאותה מחלוקת להשיג האמת, וזה מתקיים, כמו שאמרו, "מתוך הויכוח יתברר האמת," וכמו שנתבאר במחלוקת הלל ושמאי, שהלכה כבית הלל. ומחלוקת שאינה לשם שמים, תכלית הנרצה בה היא בקשת השררה ואהבת הניצוח, וזה הסוף אינו מתקיים, כמו שמצינו במחלוקת קורח ועדתו שתכלית וסוף כוונתם היתה בקשת הכבוד והשררה והיה להיפך

I have heard explained that "its end" refers to the purpose that was sought from [the machlokes]. In a machlokes for the sake of Heaven, the purpose and the end that is sought in the machlokes is to know the truth, and this purpose will be upheld, as is said, "Out of debate the truth is made clear." As it is was clarified by the the machlokes of Hillel and Shamai that the law is like the academy of Hillel.

But by a machlokes that is not for the sake of Heaven, the desired purpose is the pursuit of power and the love of victory. This purpose will not be upheld, as we find by the machlokes of Korach and his congregation. Their goal was the pursuit of honor and power and in the end they found the opposite.

The Talmud (Eiruvin 14b) discusses why the law followed the opinion of the academy of Hillel:

מפני מה זכו בית הלל לקבוע הלכה כדבריהם? מפני שהיו שונים דבריהם ודברי בית שמאי, ולא עוד אלא שהיו מקדימין דברי בית שמאי לדבריהם

Why did the academy of Hillel merit that the law should be according to their words? Because they would study their own words as well as the words of the academy of Shamai. Moreover, they would study the words of the academy of Shamai before they studied their own!

R' Chaim Shmulevitz

R' Chaim Shmulevitz (d.1979) points out (שיחות מוסר תשל"ב - מאמר ל"ג) that this demonstrated that the academy of Hillel was devoted purely to knowing the truth to an even greater degree than the academy of Shamai. Because of their complete devotion to knowing the truth, they merited to be the dominant opinion.

The great sages Hillel and Shamai epitomize machlokes for the sake of Heaven, where the goal of both sides is purely to determine the truth. Korach and his congregation epitomize the opposite, a machlokes not for the sake of Heaven, but for selfish purposes, motivated by jealousy, pride, and the desire for honor. Such machlokes, asides from being a sin in its own right, also paves the path towards many more sins, ranging from lashon hara (gossip and tale-bearing) and leitzanus (mockery) to the extremes of physical strife and even murder. The spiritual harm caused by machlokes is immense for it causes the Shechina (Divine Presence) to depart from our midst. R' Chaim Shmulevitz says:

כמה קשה המחלוקת, שראינו כמה ישיבות קדושות שהחזיקו מעמד במצבים קשים ביותר ולא נחרבו אלא על ידי מחלוקת. ואף על פי שבית המדרש הריהו מקדש מעט שהשכינה שורה שם... אבל על ידי המחלוקת השכינה מסתלקת ונעשה ח"ו "ביתו" של השטן

How harsh is machlokes! For we have seen many holy yeshivos that continued to function even in the most difficult of circumstances, and they were destroyed in the end only by machlokes. Even though the beis medrash (Torah study hall) is a miniature Mikdash (Holy Temple) in which the Shechina rests... but machlokes causes the Shechina to depart and it becomes, God forbid, a "house" of the soton.

Knowing all this, we must still bear in mind that Korach and his congregation were men of great stature. While it is very easy for us to talk about the evils of machlokes in theory, in practice it tends not to be so simple. Whenever there is a machlokes, the instigators always claim to be acting for the sake of Heaven. This was certainly true of Korach. So how is the ordinary person to distinguish between a true machlokes for the sake of Heaven and one that is not actually for the sake of Heaven?

Indeed, one of the more disconcerting aspects that arises from the story of the dispute is that Korach apparently believed that he was in the right and that, when they all came before God with their burning incense, God Himself would chose him as the high priest. This tells us that not only can it be difficult for an outside observer to know if a machlokes is truly for the sake of Heaven, but it can even be difficult for the leader of the machlokes to recognize this! These signs are therefore vitally important not for judging others, but for assessing ourselves.

One method is alluded to in the mishna. When the mishna gives an example of a machlokes for the sake of Heaven, it refers to Hillel and Shamai, the two opposing sides in the machlokes. When the mishna gives an example of a machlokes that is not for the sake of Heaven, however, it identifies "Korach and his congregation," which was only one side in the dispute. On the simplest level, this is because, while Korach and his congregation instigated the machlokes against Moses and Aaron for their own selfish purposes, Moses and Aaron acted purely for the sake of Heaven. 

However, a number of commentators (עץ יוסף, עקבי  הצאן, מלבי"ם) see in this an additional lesson. When Korach and his congregation began their machlokes, each one of them was motivated by his own selfish purposes. Their alliance with the others was purely one of convenience, to enable each of them to achieve his own goals. Ultimately, each of them really wanted to gain power exclusively for himself. Thus, when Moses told them that each claimant to the high priesthood would burn incense and God would choose the one who was worthy, Korach correctly understood this to mean that only one of them would survive (רש"י טז:ז). Yet, this did not bother Korach, because Korach did not care a whit about "his congregation". They were nothing more than a tool for Korach to use. Thus, not only was there discord between the two ostensible sides of the machlokes, but there was also discord within the camp of Korach and his congregation. They too were not truly at peace with each other. This is a sign that the machlokes is not truly for the sake of Heaven.

Another way to assess if a machlokes is truly for the sake of Heaven is discussed by R' Yonason Eibschutz (d.1764) in his Yaaros Devash (vol. 2, p.135b). R' Yonason  Eibschutz says that the Sages referred to Hillel and Shamai together to give us a sign by which to distinguish between a true machlokes for the sake of Heaven and a machlokes that is not for the sake of Heaven:

אי המחולקים ובעלי ריבוח הם זולת הדבר שחלקו בו ומנגדים זה לזה הם אוהבים גמורים בלב ונפש זהו אות שמחלוקחם לש״ש אבל אם אויבים ונוטרים שנאה זה לזה על ידי מחלוקת זהו שלא לש״ש ויתיצב השטן בתוכם

If the disputants, asides from the specific issue in which they disagree, love each other completely, heart and soul, this is a sign that their machlokes is for the sake of Heaven. However, if they are enemies and hold hatred towards each other, then this is not a machlokes for the sake of Heaven and the soton stands among them.

The disagreements of Hillel and Shamai never impacted upon their love and respect for each other. This is a sign that their disputes were motivated purely for the sake of Heaven. If however, the machlokes leads the disputants to express hatred towards their opponents, as we find by Korach and his congregation, then this is a sign that the machlokes is not for the sake of Heaven.

In general, one of the most reliable ways to know if a machlokes is truly for the sake of Heaven is to look at the methods used by the disputants. By Korach we find that he made use of a wide range of "dirty tricks" to achieve his goals. He engaged in the worst forms of lashon hara and motzi shem ra (libelous gossip and tale-bearing), accusing Moses of being a power-hungry egomaniac and even of immoral behavior (Talmud Sanhedrin 110a - חשדוהו באשת איש). We also find that he made use of leitzanus (mockery) in his attacks on the Torah (such as his mockery of the laws of tzitzis and mezuzah) and of chanufa (flattery) and other forms of bribery in his appeals to the people.

However, in the end, the best advice when faced with a machlokes is, if at all possible, to simply not get involved. As the Talmud states (Chullin 89a):

א"ר אילעא, אין העולם מתקיים אלא בשביל מי שבולם את עצמו בשעת מריבה...

R' Ilaah said, The world survives only for the sake of those who silence themselves at a time of strife...

R' Samson Raphael Hirsch

In Proverbs we read (26:17), מחזיק באזני כלב עבר מתעבר על ריב לא לו - "Like one who grasps the ears of a dog, is one who gets angry over a quarrel that is not his." R' Samson Raphael Hirsch explains (From the Wisdom of Mishlé, ch.11):

Disputes are compared to biting animals. Do not meddle if a quarrel does not concern you. If you mix in, you are (as it were) grasping the ear of a biting animal: it will let go of its previous adversary and direct its attacks at you. (וכן פירש רש"י והגר"א)

This, in essence, was the advice that On ben Peles received from his wife that saved him from being destroyed along with Korach and his congregation. Even though On was initially one of Korach's supporters, as we see in the opening verse of the parsha (16:1), we find that he is not mentioned again. The Talmud  (Sanhedrin 109b) explains:

אמר רב, און בן פלת אשתו הצילתו. אמרה ליה, מאי נפקא לך מינה? אי מר רבה אנת תלמידא, ואי מר רבה אנת תלמידא!

Rav said, On ben Peles was saved by his wife. She said to him, "What are you going to get out of this? If he is the master you will be the disciple, and if he is the master you will be the disciple!"

The Sages praise the advice of On's wife very highly, applying to her the verse from Proverbs (14:1), חכמות נשים בנתה ביתה - "The wisest of women builds her house." Sometimes the greatest wisdom is also the simplest. While On almost certainly believed, at least initially, that he was supporting the right side in the fight, his wife was wiser than he. "This is not your fight! Stay out of it!" With this advice On's wife saved her husband and her family from the fate of Korach and his congregation.

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