Philosophy, Leadership, and the Soul of a Community In the heat of Korach’s rebellion against Moses, Moses turned to G-d and requested that He not turn to the offerings of the rebels: Moses was exceedingly distressed, and he said to the Lord, "Do not accept their offering. (Numbers 16:15) But what offering was Moses referring to? Rashi, in his second interpretation, says that it is referring to the daily communal offerings, to which each Jew would donate a half coin annually, and the money was used to purchase the communal offerings: According to its Midrashic interpretation, he said: “I know that they have a portion in the daily communal offerings. Let their portions not be accepted favorably before You. Let the fire leave it and not consume it.” What seems like a straightforward interpretation, “I know that they have a portion in the daily communal offerings”, is in fact quite controversial, and related to a teaching of the Rogotchover, the 20th-century brilliant rabbi, who always sought the underlying “unifying theory” behind many seemingly unrelated disputes. Rogotchover argued that many disagreements between sages of the Mishnah and Talmud actually boil down to an essential philosophical debate related to a controversy between Plato and Aristotle. In his theory of forms, Plato posits that every physical phenomenon on earth is a mere reflection of the true phenomenon in the spiritual, perfect, and abstract realm. A chair, for example, is a physical manifestation of the “perfect” spiritual chair, and all chairs on earth are an attempt to capture some imperfect aspect of the “perfect” chair. Aristotle rejects that philosophy outright; to him, there is no “perfect” abstract form. There is no abstract chair that is the source of all chairs. The "essence" and “form” of the chair are not separate from the chair itself. Applying this disagreement to the concept of "community", some sages and scholars view “community” in the Platonic sense: an abstract concept, greater than the sum of the individuals that actually make up the community. They therefore believe that an individual cannot claim to have a specific ownership stake in communal property, as the community is a distinct abstract concept. Others share the Aristotelian view, namely, a community is a collection of individuals. Applied to our discussion, an individual can certainly lay claim to personal ownership over communal assets, since he or she is a member of that community. When the Rebbe taught this Rashi, he explained both sides of the argument and then turned to a subtle word in Rashi that captures the essence of what a true leader is. The Rebbe explained that, although in matters of practical law, Jewish law generally takes the view that "community" is an abstract concept greater than the individuals that comprise it, nevertheless, Moses presented the other perspective. Moses said, “I know that they have a portion in the daily communal offerings”. The key phrase is “I know”. Moses was the leader of the community, but unlike many leaders who worry about the “collective”, Moses saw the individual within the collective. To Moses, a community is a place where an individual can transcend and tap into the energy of the collective, while at the same time maintaining his own unique, personal identity. “I know”, said Moses, that a leader must be concerned not only with the collective but with each and every person individually. Yesterday, the third of Tammuz, was the Rebbe’s thirty-second Yahrtzeit. The Rebbe lived and exemplified the model of Moses, caring about “Klal Yisrael”, the collective Jewish people, while at the same time expressing complete dedication to each individual. May we continue to be inspired by the Rebbe’s teachings and example, and recognize that every individual person, and every individual action, is critical to the Divine purpose of creation.
(Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Lekutei Sichos 18 Korach 1)
Blog - Torah Insights
Philosophy, Leadership, and the Soul of a Community - קרח
The Advantage of Touring - שלח
The Advantage of Touring Touring. A word that evokes feelings of exploration, beauty, and new horizons. The Hebrew word for touring, “Latur”, sounds strikingly similar to the English word, tour. This word, which appears in our Torah portion regarding the scouts sent to spy, or “tour” the land of Israel, has an additional meaning as well: it is related to the Hebrew word for “Yitaron”, advantage. We all heard the story. The spies were reluctant to enter the land of Israel because, as Chasidic philosophy explained, they were afraid of the spiritual challenges that come along with the abandonment of desert life. Additionally, they were apprehensive about the necessity of engaging in the materialistic economy of the land of Israel. “It is a land that consumes its inhabitants” is what they reported back to the Jewish people, alluding to the fear that the “earth”, the materialism of the land, would consume, swallow, and corrupt the spiritual life of the Israelites. We can understand the sentiment. Being challenged is not comfortable. But the Hebrew language reminds us that the challenge of “touring”, expanding vistas and entering a new way of life, is precisely what leads to a Yitaron, an advantage, which will lead us to the greatest heights. There is a moving Talmudic story that illustrates this point. The great Talmudic sage Rav Yochanan was in profound mourning after his study partner passed away. The sages tried to set him up with another study partner, but that did not work, specifically because Rav Yochanan preferred someone who would challenge him rather than a study partner who would agree with him. As the Talmud relates: Reish Lakish died. Rabbi Yoḥanan was sorely pained over losing him. The Rabbis said: Who will go to calm Rabbi Yoḥanan’s mind and comfort him over his loss? They said: Let Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat go, as his statements are sharp, i.e., he is clever and will be able to serve as a substitute for Reish Lakish. Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat went and sat before Rabbi Yoḥanan. With regard to every matter that Rabbi Yoḥanan would say, Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat would say to him: There is a ruling which is taught in a baraita that supports your opinion. Rabbi Yoḥanan said to him: Are you comparable to the son of Lakish? In my discussions with the son of Lakish, when I would state a matter, he would raise twenty-four difficulties against me in an attempt to disprove my claim, and I would answer him with twenty-four answers, and the halakha by itself would become broadened and clarified. And yet you say to me: There is a ruling which is taught in a baraita that supports your opinion. Do I not know that what I say is good? Being rebutted by Reish Lakish served a purpose; your bringing proof to my statements does not. Rabbi Yoḥanan went around, rending his clothing, weeping and saying: Where are you, son of Lakish? Where are you, son of Lakish? Talmud, Baba Metzia, 84a Rav Yochanan understood that a challenge contains within it a "yitaron," an advantage. He understood that the very difficulties we seek to avoid may be the source of our greatest growth. Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Shelach Leacha 5731
The Indestructible Light - בהעלותך
The Indestructible Light Aaron envied the tribal leaders. G-d's response revealed a deeper truth about where holiness resides. The opening statement of this week's portion is the commandment to light the Menorah, a commandment that was already stated twice earlier in the Torah. Rashi quotes the Midrash, which explains that the reason the portion of the Menorah was repeated is a direct response to Aaron’s concern. In last week’s portion, we read at great length how the leaders of the tribes each offered offerings for the inauguration of the altar. Aaron was distressed that neither he nor his tribe participated in the inauguration. G-d therefore reiterated the commandment that Aaron should kindle the Menorah, implying, as the Midrash states, that “yours” (the menorah) is greater than “theirs” (the offerings of the leaders). As Rashi says: Why is the portion dealing with the menorah juxtaposed to the portion dealing with the chieftains? For when Aaron saw the dedication [offerings] of the chieftains, he felt distressed over not joining them in this dedication, neither he nor his tribe. So God said to him, “By your life, yours is greater than theirs, for you will light and prepare the lamps.” (Rashi, Numbers 8:2) But why is the lighting of the Menorah “greater” than the offerings? The Midrash does not explain. Nachmanides offers an innovative interpretation. When the Midrash says Aaron lighting the Menorah is greater, the Midrash is referring not to the Menorah in the temple, but rather to the Chanukah menorah, which was established to commemorate the rededication of the temple by the Maccabees, Aaron’s descendants. The Chanukah menorah is “greater” than the offerings, because the offerings can no longer be offered now that there is no temple, whereas the Chanukah Menorah is eternal, and will never cease. In the words of Nachmanides: Therefore, we must say that the Sages of the Midrash were alluding to the lights of the Dedication of the Hasmoneans, which apply [on the festival of Chanukah] even after the destruction of the Sanctuary, in our exile. This teaching turns the seeming hierarchy of holiness on its head. The offerings were offered by the priests, the holiest members of the Jewish community, in the holiest place, the temple in Jerusalem. They represent a person’s ability to experience the intense awareness of the presence of G-d, available in the temple. Yet, the Midrash, viewed through the lens of Nachmanides, teaches that even more profound than that is the ability to light the Chanukah Menorah, where, not just the priests, but every individual Jew brings light to his or her part of the world. The offerings represent the ability to reach the pinnacle of holiness, yet the Chanukah Menorah is far greater because it empowers each person to be an ambassador of light, to turn their home into a miniature temple. The Chanukah Menorah may not be as glamorous as the temple, but it is indestructible, and it can be applied to every time and every place. It represents the ultimate mission of the Jew, to spread transformative light to every part of the world.