Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? Is it not the One? (Job 14:4) Avraham out of Terach…Yisrael out of idolaters, the future world out of this world. Who did this? Who commanded this? Who decreed this? Was it not the world's Only One?
We have learned elsewhere: If there is a bright spot (indicating leprosy) of the size of a bean in a man he is unclean; if it breaks forth on the whole body he is clean. Who did this? Who commanded this? Who decreed this? Was it not the world's Only One?
The garments of any person engaged in part of the preparation of the Red Heifer are defiled, while the sprinkled waters of the red heifer make garments ritually clean. Hashem says: "I have laid down my statute; I have issued a decree. You shall not transgress it" (Midrash Rabbah 19:1).
Chukat
Reb Shlomo Minyan HarNof
(R. Raphael, email: [email protected])
The Mother Of All Freedoms
At Har Sinai, B'nei Yisrael reached a level of holiness where death ceased to have power over them. Hashem proclaimed Himself, "Anochi," "I," and our souls flew from our bodies. When He revived us, we were as new creations. The poisonous illusions of separateness that the primordial snake had injected into human reality were purged...until the sin of the golden calf. The egel hazehav separated us again, placing an unliving image between ourselves and the Living G-d, weakening our connection to the Source of Life. Our teshuvah after the sin saved us from being cut off altogether, but once the barrier had been erected we were no longer freed from death in this world. The whole course of spiritual history flows from this moment. At once exposed to the impurity of death, yet able to reconnect ourselves through the Torah to the Tree of Life, we are undergoing a process that will, someday, conquer death for good.
The parah adumah has the power to purify from exposure to death. This stems from its being intertwined with the sin of the golden calf. The Midrash compares the adult red heifer to a maidservant whose son has caused disarray in the palace. Just as the king calls the woman to clean up after her son, so the parah must be brought to atone for the egel. If the power of death was reinstated through the idol of the calf, then reconnecting it to its mother-source purifies by recalling the Source of all life, the ultimate mystery of origins.
When B'nei Yisrael made the calf they wanted to submit themselves to the power of din. (See the Ramban on parashat Ki Tisa.) But now Hashem says, "Take a parah - the mother cow - that from which the whole existence of the calf comes. Even on this parah you have power if you go according to Torah." And what is that power? The egel represented the surrender to din. The people thought that Moshe was gone. He had failed to come down from the mountain where he encountered the Divine. With Moshe out of their lives they thought they could not be free, they could not overcome the powers of din. They must submit their lives to it. But Hashem shows B'nei Yisrael that things are not at all like this. Now, just before the three shepherds, Miriam, Aharon and Moshe, are about to leave this world, Hashem gives the command of parah adumah. The lesson is that the freedom of the nation is not dependent on Moshe nor any human being. The Jewish people have been given the Torah and they do not have to rely on Moshe to interpret it for them. They are not limited to repeating cycles of din, a perspective that completely limits freedom. Rather the Torah is to be the vessel of freedom. You are free to create yourselves within the Torah. So take the parah, the mother of the egel, the egel which is din (the bull of the chariot above), take the mother of the parah and reduce it to ash. You have the power over even the source of din if you take Torah to its depths.
All this seems impossible. After all man must live by law. He is a creature of law and law means limitation. Thus, when Moshe disappeared the Jewish people invented a new source of authority, the calf. And it was a calf because they felt their situation was one of low subservience. They thought they needed to hide from the freedom that Moshe showed them. But Hashem says, before Moshe's death, go back to the very source of din, take the calf's mother and reduce it to its root. You have the power of Moshe, you have the power of interpretation.
This is like the story of Rebbe Akiva (Tractate Menachot 29b) whom Moshe saw interpreting the Torah. Moshe could not understand what Rebbe Akiva was saying and he became upset. Moshe asked Hashem, "If this is the Torah you want then why did You give it through me and not him?" And Hashem told Moshe to be silent. Because the Torah of Moshe is ultimately from the place of "silence," above any words that we can understand in this world. Its root is above anything that can be fixed in all its details in this world. And in bringing the Torah down there is chiddush, something really new is created in the world. And it is up to the nation as a whole and each individual to create his world through the Torah. And that is the true level of the Torah: that Moshe was the giver of the Torah and it was spoken through his mouth, but that the Infinite was speaking through him. And each of us has the power to touch the Infinite that is coming through Moshe's words. So take the parah adumah, which is Hashem's will, from which din springs, and bring it back to its pure source. Because from there you can find the root of your own creativity in Torah.
Ups And Downs Of The Holy
One of the wonders of the red heifer is that it has two contradictory effects at the same time. It purifies the tamei and makes impure the tahor. Rabbeinu Bachya recounts that some who learned the mysteries explained that the power to purify came from the exalted holiness of the waters containing the ashes. Others explained that the impurity resulted from coming into contact with the chol, profane. Rebbeinu Bachya teaches that the very power to purify comes from such a high place of holiness that the one accessing it is, in effect, pushed away from there and this is why he becomes impure. On the other hand, bringing this holiness to the one who is defiled makes the unclean one whole again, purifying him.
Beyond The Boundary Of Understanding
"This is the chukat (decree) of the Torah given by Gd. You shall bring a red heifer" (Bemidbar 19:1).
Rabbeinu Bachya says that chok is a language of boundary as it says "I placed the sand as a boundary for the sea, an eternal "chok" which will not be trespassed" (VaYikra 19,19). The command of the red heifer is also referred to in this way, "This is the chukat." This is because the parah adumah purifies those that have touched death and this power of purification comes from the supreme source of Torah whose holiness is beyond the boundary of our understanding. As it says in the pasuk, "Take a red heifer that is 'ayin.'" Because the Torah has its root in ayin, Gd's inexpressible wisdom, the divine aspect of chochmah. Then the pasuk says, "It shall not be blemished in the sense that no yoke has been placed on it" (Bemidbar 19:2) The Me'or Eineyim reads this as meaning that a person needs to strive for this level of ayin. Because even though in previous times it was only the very few who could reach this, it is something of necessity for our generation. One who has not done so still has a blemish so that even though he cleaves to the Torah, he still has not truly yoked himself to the hidden light of the Torah. He is only able to do so when he senses the utter Divine otherness of the Torah, that is, its source in Hashem's unfathomable Chochmah (wisdom), which is aptly called "ayin," "nothingness."
And this is the paradox that when a person turns to Hashem he has to relate to Him as both immediately present and totally inaccessible. Because without this infinite remove, the Divine becomes merely a reflection of self - more I - the bombastic, cosmic, yet painfully still small I. And even as we gratify the self, it remains our burden, sullying us, trapping us in its impurity. But when we relate to the holy that is beyond our grasp, opening in the deepest way, then we are cleansed from our impurities and we know ourselves being known from above so that we are released from the clutches of our own I and we see ourselves relative to a higher perspective.
The Torah says that the parah adumah purifies someone who has touched a corpse. The Rebbe of Ishzbitz teaches that a "corpse" can mean something "dead," from the past, a memory that we are lugging around because we are unable to make sense of the harsh judgments that have come upon us in our life. When a person rails against Hashem because he cannot accept what has happened he brings upon himself the most serious impurity, tainting himself with death, detachment from the source of life, Hashem.
To understand this we need to distinguish different aspects of din. A person should "fight" a din that is still hanging in the balance, such as seeking to cure himself when he is sick, his effort acting as a vessel for Hashem's mercy. But if, for example, someone that a person loves has died, Gd forbid, then the din is finished, it is past, and protesting against the justice of Hashem only makes him impure, setting him at odds with Hashem's will.
It is from this that the red heifer comes to purify us. Its waters can heal us. But what gives it this power? The pasuk says that the heifer shall not have carried a yoke. The Rebbe of Ishzbitz interprets this to mean that when a person sees the events of his life as occurring because of the forces of nature or the other nations, this is called a yoke - he saddles his life with causes that he thinks are separate from Hashem. But the truth is that even in the exile it is Hashem Who is guiding the events of our lives. Thus, even the harsh judgments of our lives are only the garments for how Hashem is relating to us. The parah adumah has the power to reveal some of the perspective of the future time when we will see the hand of Hashem clearly in everything, when we will not carry the burden of strange gods, when we will be free of any yoke and our relationship will be only with Hashem.
But the cure won't work unless we surrender some of the grasping of self, the "I" that seeks instant gratification, pre-packaged answers. Because there is a gnawing hunger within us which is like a beast that tears off the flesh of its prey, satisfying the blinding intoxication of need. So where is the hope of being human and vulnerable and having a heart? But once a person can admit that he is at the "mercy" of his sinfulness, that this is his disconnectedness, he can begin to heal himself. The same way that doing for others can save a person, so if he will do for himself in the way of doing for another, if he will drop off the immediate gratification of doing for me, which is the most immediate of all gratifications taking care of himself as he would a beloved other, then he can have mercy on himself. Because really a person hates his voracious self - it is so destructive and kills everything he loves. And this controlling the hunger of self is the way to modesty. He covers himself with the garment of self understanding. In that way, when he does reveal the "I," instead of the violent shaking of its hunger, the I is sweet like a kiss, gentle and subtle.
Etched In Our Hearts
The aspect of closeness in the Divine relationship is expressed in the word chok as well. Because something that is engraved is called chukak. The Sefat Emet says that there are two kinds of writing: that which emerges from the material itself and that which adheres to the surface like the writing of a pen on parchment. When the ink is applied, it penetrates the material and this is how the letters become seen. But when something is engraved, the letter is from the stone itself, not merely applied to it. So too, the original giving of the Torah was on this level of chukak, as it says, they were carved there by the finger of Hashem. And this level of connection is the greatest possible freedom, as the midrash says, "Don't read the word carved, charut, but cheirut, free." This is the depth of our relation to the Torah. To go from the level of ink on parchment to the level where it is etched the deepest possible way inside of us and that we see the world as an expression of Gd's living speech.
Mitzvot
There are three commandments in the parashah according to Sefer HaChinuch.
At A Glance