Atonement and Attunement
Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Parshat Chukas begins with the cryptic chok of parah adumah, of taking a completely red heifer, burning it, mixing its ashes in water, and sprinkling this mixture to purify anyone from the contamination through physical contact with death. Immediately following this law, the Torah informs us of the death of Miriam. Water stopped flowing from the rock that was Miriam's well, Bnei Yisroel complained of thirst, Hashem's instructed Moshe Rabbenu to speak to the rock from which water had flowed, Moshe Rabbenu's struck the rock with his staff, and water flowed again. As a result of this transgression, Hashem tells Moshe Rabbenu that he and Aharon Hacohen will not lead Bnei Yisroel into the Land, "Because you did not believe in Me to sanctify Me before the eyes of Bnei Yisroel."
Our Sages ask two related but obvious questions: Why does the Torah present this mitzvah here when it was actually commanded forty years earlier after the sin of the golden calf, and what is the connection between the laws of the red heifer and the death of Miriam? Rashi's answers that just as the red heifer served as atonement for Bnei Yisroel, so too does the death of a tzadik serve as atonement. This answer is in itself somewhat cryptic and requires exploration. And if they both bring atonement, why not just bring a sin offering as atonement? How does this ritual differ from the ritual of the sin offering, asks Letitcha Elyon? First, it is important to note, says Rabbi Dunner zt”l, that the death of a righteous woman, Miriam, brings equal atonement as death of a righteous man, as does Aharon Hacohen's death will do shortly thereafter. Nevertheless, how does all this also connect to the "waters of strife" that immediately follows?
Rabbi Bernstein presents a caveat. The death of the righteous is not absolute or immediate atonement, but is a process in which we must participate. It should be an awakening for us and help us define our values as reflecting those of the one who passed. That self contemplation is what brings atonement. When we mourn a tzadik's death, we are checking our own relationship with Hakodosh Boruch Hu. Have we sinned and created distance, asks Tiv Hatorah.
The entire purpose of a sacrifice is to return to Hashem, as the word korbon, means coming close. When offering an animal, one is returning it to Hashem. When a tzadik dies, his pure soul returns to Hashem. Thus, both offer atonement for Bnei Yisroel, writes Rabbi Beckhofer, citing the Maharal. The body gets separated from the soul. Similarly, fasting separates the physical aspect of man from his spiritual aspect, provided he internalizes the purpose of the fast. These two ideas merge with the fast of Gedaliah during the Ten Days of Repentance. We fast on the day a tzadik died. But it achieves its goal only if the day is used for introspection, prayer learning and repentance.
This theme is carried forward into the parshah with the death of Aharon Hacohen. Moshe Rabbenu removed Aharon Hacohen's clothes before Aharon Hacohen died, for the clothes of the kohein gadol, also bring expiation, reminds us the Neot Desheh. But the tzadik's death must be accompanied by appropriate mourning. The author brings proof from the three years of famine during the reign of Dovid Hamelech. For three years, King David searched for the cause of the famine without success until he asked of Hashem. He was told that the reason for the famine was that they had not mourned the death of King Saul properly and had not buried him with appropriate honor due him thirty years earlier.
It is not just mourning, but the awakening of teshuvah that the tzadik's death arouses that brings atonement. The tzadik was righteous; his death atones for our sins. We must recognize our responsibility. And this is how the tzadik's death can be compared to bringing a sin offering. When a sinner brings this offering, he must lay his hands upon the animal, symbolically identifying with the animal. The feeling aroused must be that I am deserving of death but, through God's chessed, the animal dies in my place. [For this reason, the kapporos ritual before Yom Kippur is much more powerful when performed with a live chicken than with money. CKS] Contemplating the death of a tzadik is meant to transform you.
Why do we learn this from the parah adumah instead of from the sin offering? As Letitcha Elyon writes, citing Rabbi Gedaliah Eisman zt”l, just as parah adumah is a chok beyond human understanding, so too is the death of a tzadik beyond human understanding. Both are decrees from Heaven.
The ashes of the red cow are to be gathered and guarded for purification waters, instructs the Torah. Similarly, advises Rabbi Rogow zt”l in Ateres Mordechai, the good deeds of the tzadik, the lessons he taught should also be gathered and guarded, inspiring us toward sanctity. In this way, the tzadik remains very much alive and his merits continue to protect us.
Just as Miriam didn't enter Eretz Yisroel, and neither did Moshe Rabbenu and Aharon Hacohen, when Moshiach comes in the future, they will lead this generation into Eretz Yisroel, writes the Shvilei Pinchas. But why is it specifically Miriam's death that is recorded in juxtaposition to the laws of the red heifer? Rabbi Friedman continues by citing the Gemorro stating that the ritual of the red heifer is meant to atone for the sin of the golden calf. Allegorically, the "calf" made a mess, and its "mother" is called upon to clean up the mess of her "son." The Shvilei Pinchas beautifully writes that Miriam was like the mother of Bnei Yisroel, the one who was instrumental in the birth of Moshe Rabbenu, the woman who led the women in song at the splitting of the Red Sea, and so much more.
Rebbetzin Yemima Mizrachi makes an interesting observation on the Gemorro. Certainly, that calf was not the son of this red heifer. How could she be the atonement? But, notes the Aish Kodesh, the nature of a Jewish mother is that we carry the burden of each other's children,. Women are the ones who traditionally gather to recite Tehillim and to be the caretakers. As Rabbi Gedaliah Schorr zt"l says, Yirmiyahu prophesies that he sees Mother Rachel Imenu not bochah, crying for her children, but mevakah, causing others to cry. Just as Rachel Imenu cries for all Jewish children, so do all Jewish mothers cry for all the children.
When the water stopped flowing at Miriam's death, Bnei Yisroel immediately started complaining. Had Bnei Yisroel let tears flow from their eyes at Miriam's death, the water would have continued to flow from the rock which was Miriam's well, suggests Rabbi Yosef Nechemiah Konitzer zt”l. Having had the water for forty years, they took the water for granted and lacked the gratitude for Hashem's chessed in Miriam's merit. We probably also take all God's gifts to us for granted, seldom taking the time to thank Hashem beyond our morning blessings as we go through our day.
Why did the people come to Moshe Rabbenu and Aharon Hacohen as they were sitting shiva after Miriam's death? Rabbi Weinberg notes that while their original purpose may have been to be menachem aveil, to comfort the mourners, their thirst got the better of them, and they reverted to complaining.
And at this we get Hashem telling Moshe Rabbenu to take his staff, go to the rock, and tell it to spew forth water. Yet Moshe Rabbenu calls Bnei Yisroel rebels and, instead of speaking to the rock, he strikes the rock twice, and water spews forth.
Why did Moshe Rabbenu act counter to God's command? Was he so angry at Bnei Yisroel that it clouded his judgment? In an interesting analysis, Rabbi Bernstein suggests that Moshe Rabbenu was deciding which action would sanctify God's name, and which action had the potential of desecrating God's name. He chose to think that Bnei Yisroel were not on a high enough level for the greater miracle to occur, for the water to flow through the medium of speech. If he spoke to the rock and the water did not flow forth, there would be a desecration of God's name. But Hashem had hinted to Moshe Rabbenu that the people would be worthy of the greater miracle, yet Moshe Rabbenu still had no faith in this implied reassurance, and he struck the rock..
People grieve in different ways, and perhaps the complaining about the lack of water was how Bnei Yisroel were reacting to the loss they could not cope with in any other way, suggests Rabbi Bernstein. Moshe Rabbenu reacted to their expression of anger, not to their grief. Perhaps Moshe Rabbenu was insensitive to their grief, and for this Hashem punished him.
Rabbi Belsky zt”l brings us another instance when a tzadik was somewhat insensitive to the grief of another. When Rachel Imenu approached Yaskov Avinu and asked him to pray for her to have children or she will die, Yaskov Avinu answered, "Am I in place of God..?" Rabbi Belsky suggests that while Yaskov Avinu certainly felt Rachel Imenu's pain, he rebuked her for making a veiled ultimatum to Hashem. But one does not offer rebuke or offer correction to someone while he is in deep pain. While the momentary behavior may be out of character, that is not the time for correction.
Similarly, Bnei Yisroel were approaching Moshe Rabbenu and Aharon Hacohen from their deep concern for their survival without water. This was not the time to call them rebels. Take care of their need; provide them with water according to Hashem's instructions. Bnei Yisroel are worthy of miracles.
We try to understand Hashem, we debate the reasons for all the mitzvoth, but ultimately our human minds cannot grasp God's reasoning. Just as the ritual of the red heifer is beyond human understanding, so is the death of the righteous and the innocent beyond our understanding. All we can do is hope to learn and grow closer to Hashem, and be grateful for all the chessed He bestows upon us, often in the merit of tzadikim who have passed, and more often from His own love.