Dear friends,
It happened many years ago. One of my kids brought home cute little chicks from Machane Yehuda. They were soft and yellow – really adorable. The problem (or more correctly, my problem), was that they didn’t die. Needless to say, the kids got tired of them once they reached the awkward adolescent stage, (as happens to many “parents”) and their care, feeding, and the cleanup that goes with them became my job. They outgrew their box, and I moved them to the porch. The new reality of life at the Hellers began to feel normal. (I am sure lots of people have half-grown chickens on their porches.) …Until the Guest From South Africa came. She was very civilized….
The guest room adjoined the porch. When she wanted a bit more air, she opened the door and They came in on a search and destroy mission. When she called me (“So sorry to trouble you, but…” was how she began), I was in a real quandary. I couldn’t chase them back onto the porch and close them in. It was shabbos, and trapping animals is forbidden. I explained the situation as best as I could. I tried shooing them on to the porch and bribing them with food to stay there, but to them it was a no-go. I will save the end of the story for another letter, (suffice to say it wasn’t one of the “And that’s how I came to Neve and became frum” stories), but the part that is relevant to us now is the fact that Judaism is not always easy to explain.
The Sefer HaChinuch divides the mitzvos into three categories paralleling the ability of humans to use their capacities to serve Hashem in each aspect of what makes us ourselves. The first category is called Mishpatim, judgements: mitzvos that our minds affirm easily as moving you beyond the limitations of the animal self (which only wants survival and pleasure). An example of this kind of commandment – not speaking lashon hara. Anyone can see how much more positivity is generated. Another category is called Eidos: mitzvos that create memories from which deeply spiritual emotions are born. Eating matzah makes you remember Hashem’s presence and His love and His miracles in ways that just reading the haggadah will never do on its own. The last category is Chukkim, literally laws that are “engraved” into reality. There are reasons, but not ones that the human mind can grasp easily.
No chok is harder to unlock than the one about sacrificing a red cow, throwing in cedar and hyssop, and many, many more details none of which are easily explained. To make things even more complicated, those who were involved in the offering were defiled, but the ashes purified.
A WORD OF WARNING – PROCEED WITH CAUTION
A chok is meant to be seen as a decree, and when you obey it, it changes your relationship with Hashem, not in spite of the fact that you don’t see how obeying the law in question benefits you rationally or emotionally, but because, at least at the time, you worship Hashem and not your own ego.
Explanations can describe the effect of keeping the chukkim. The effect that you can see or experience, and the cause are not the same thing. One effect of a rational law, such as not speaking lashon hara, is that it prevents degradation and negativity, but it also makes you more aware of the creativity and destructive power of speech and many other effects that you may or may not have already noticed. Hashem’s intent may be far wider and definitely is far deeper than your ability to track down the effect and “translate” it as being the cause.
Sforno points out that sin is comparable to death, in that by its nature you are cut off from the source of all life, Hashem. Each sin generates a specific kind of blockage. Changing without getting at the character trait that generates the sin can be like cutting weeds without uprooting them – they grow back.
How do you “uproot” a bad character trait (and by “bad,” it goes without saying the intent is “misused” in a way that generates spiritual blockage)? Sforno quotes the Rambam, who tells us that all excessive expression of character traits ends up being a blockage. An example is that too much thrift becomes stinginess; too much reaching out to others (disguised as kindness) can degenerate into promiscuity.
If you look at yourself honestly (which, as you know, is always a hassle), and you discover that you have crossed the line, Rambam tells you the way to go is to head towards the opposite extreme. The way this works is similar to what you would do if you planted a tree and saw that it was growing crooked. To keep it straight, you would put a stick on the other side and tie the tree to the stick to compensate for the imbalance. Of course, you would have to be careful not to tie it too tightly because if you do, you will break the tree. Your aim is the middle, but to get there you have to spend some time at the opposite extreme.
The cedar tree is very tall and is often used as a symbol of arrogance. Hyssop is close to the ground and can be seen as a symbol of self-destructive disbelief in yourself and your potential. They are both forces that can take you further and further away from your inherent closeness to Hashem. They belong in the fire where they become one, and now can be used for purification.
This is only one aspect of this sacrifice, and only one “face” of this aspect. Even Shlomo, the wisest of men, didn’t really understand this mitzvah entirely, but there was one person who did.
MOSHE, YOU, AND THE PARAH ADUMAH
Moshe is referred to frequently in the Zohar and other similar works as the Raya Mehemna, which literally means the faithful shepherd. The words can also be interpreted as meaning the shepherd of faith.
Keeping the chukkim doesn’t demand brilliance. It demands faith. Every one of you has a deep repository of faith. Before your soul entered a body, it was exposed to Hashem’s infinite light.
Can you see it now? Not consciously, but to use the words of the Zohar, “Your mazal sees it,” meaning the way Hashem leads you through your life gives you a glimpse of Who created you and where you came from.
This is expressed by focusing on the word emunah. It doesn’t mean faith in the sense of an intuitive desire to find meaning. It means faithfulness to something that is real and there within you. The way it finds expression is by letting go of your ego and keeping the mitzvos (especially the chukkim) because they were decreed by Hashem.
Moshe is never praised in the Torah for any trait other than his humility. That was the key to his understanding what the parah adumah is about. Something of Moshe is in the spiritual leadership of every generation, and there is even a bit of Moshe in ordinary people like us.
When do you see it? When you do something that demands that you see beyond yourself and serve Hashem with even a small degree of mesiras nefesh.
You really are a little bit like Moshe. I will give you a couple of examples of what that looks like.
1. My downstairs neighbors, the Diamond family (who really deserve their name), have a box gemach. What that means is that when people get their orders delivered from the local supermarkets, instead of throwing away the cartons they leave them in front of Diamond’s door. He then folds them, stores them in his machsan, and makes them available to anyone who is moving or needs boxes for other purposes. They recently expanded their “business” and now have a box in which you can put returnable bottles to be picked up by a woman who is in deep financial distress, who redeems them and can then put a few shekels in her pocket.
2. I was at a sheva brachos this Shabbos. I mentioned to my husband’s daughter, Chaya Baila (I hope she sees this), that the waiters were working so hard. They hardly had a moment to sit down. She told me that she noticed this a while back, and now when she goes to a simchah, she takes a few really good chocolate bars for the waiters.
3. Another neighbor, Rabbi Gedalya Elfenbein zt”l, was weakened severely in the course of his final illness and was unable to stay up Shavuos night as he had done for many years. He “made up” for having missed many recitations of Kaddish and Kedushah by going to the local minyan factory (Imrei Shefer) for a few hours the next day to give himself the chance to praise Hashem as much as possible.
Did you notice that none of these deeds made the news? That’s what galus haShechinah is about. We don’t see the Shechinah. We are busy with Trump and more....
Hearing about the Moshe in other people makes it easier to see it in yourself. Please send me some of your Moshe moments, with or without names.
Love,
Tziporah
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