The Torah in many places commands rest on the Sabbath day and that all manner of work shall not be done. But exactly what is considered work is almost never spelled out.  One of the only examples given (others being collecting wood and travelling) occurs in Exodus 35:3 where burning a fire is prohibited.  The classic commentator Rashi asks why is this work activity specifically mentioned whereas almost all the other forms of work which are also prohibited are never delineated in the Torah?  Rashi quotes the Babylonian Talmud (Sanhedrin 35b) for two explanations.  The first is that burning a fire on the Sabbath is punished to a lesser degree than other types of work. The second reason is to teach that each type of work (אב מלאכה) gets punished individually so that a person may be considered to have committed many sins if he does many types of work on the Sabbath. Burning a fire is just an example to teach that each type of work is considered its own sin.

But according the first explanation, we need to ask why would burning a fire be punished to a lesser degree than other types of work? And according to the second explanation, why specifically was fire used as an example of a type of work? There are two classical answers. The Ramban explains that we might have thought fire would be permitted on Shabbat as it is on holidays (Yom Tov).  The Sforno explains that only creative work is prohibited. But, for example, moving a couch around the living room may be tiring but it is not considered work, whereas removing a single thread from one’s suit is prohibited.  Only creative work is prohibited. Destructive acts are not prohibited by Torah law (the Rabbis did however forbid that too). Lighting a fire is a paradigmatic example of destructive work. Since a fire destroys you might think it is allowed to light one, so the Torah needs to come to give an explicit prohibition. The Torah says since making a fire in certain circumstances may be for a constructive purpose it needs to be forbidden always, albeit to a lesser degree.

Rabbi Jonathan Eybeschutz  (1690-1764) gives a novel and insightful explanation for why burning a fire is isolated here for special mention. We keep the Shabbat to emulate God who rested on the seventh day of creation.  The Talmud ( Pesachim 54 ) describes the law for making havadala to announce the end of the Shabbat.  The ceremony includes wine, fragrances and fire.  Fragrance is used to console us on the loss of the extra neshama that we receive on the Shabbat but which is now leaving since Shabbat has ended.  Why do we light a fire? The first Shabbat that the first man, Adam had was entirely light. He didn’t need any artificial light. We recall that the first Shabbat of Adam was after he repented for his sins. Mizmor shir le yom hashabbat (Psalms 92) is based on Adam’s original prayers. The Medrash explains that Cain comes over to Adam. Adam asks him how were you saved even though you sinned? He answers, I repented.  Adam says, I too will repent. Then he wrote this mizmor.  Shabbat means return and repentance.  So the first Shabbat was a day of tshuva, return.  The light represents clarity that is the source of all teshuva. But when the Shabbat ended, darkness came.  It is then that the first fire was created, lit by Adam that night.  Up until this point man had received all he needed directly from nature without working. But fire is man making an intervention in nature. The fire Adam makes represents this first intervention.  So in remembrance of  Adam, the whole Shabbat we do not light, but like Adam, when Shabbat ends we do light a fire.  So it would seem the reason we don’t light a fire on Shabbat is because Adam didn’t light one on that first Shabbat.  But says Rabbi Eybeschutz, we really should be allowed to light a fire on Shabbat. Our Sabbath rest is an imitation of God’s rest, but fire is a uniquely human activity.  God did not rest from making fire because God never made fire in the first place. So we should be allowed to make a fire, it being a human work, not a Divine work.  We should only be prohibited from doing Divine work on Shabbat.

If the only reason for Shabbat would have been to commemorate God’s creating the world , fire would have been permitted because fire represents man’s input into the world.  In the first version of the Ten Commandments given in the book of Exodus the reason given for Shabbat is to remember that God created the world in six days. But there is a second aspect to Shabbat. In the Ten Commandments in Deuteronomy 5:12 the reason for Shabbat is given as to remember the Exodus from Egypt. So we see Shabbat has a deep connection to the Exodus from Egypt.  But how can this be? The exodus happened after Shabbat had already been established and kept by Adam. The reason for something needs to be prior to that something. The memory of leaving Egypt is only a secondary aspect of Shabbat.

Adam was commanded to be fruitful and multiply and fill the world and to master it. This means man has the obligation, the right and the privilege to use all the forces of nature for his benefit because he is the master of the world. Man is there to serve God and nature is there to serve man.  So by using nature for ourselves, we are making it do its purpose, and ultimately joining it into the service of God.  That is our job, to master the world and use the world to our advantage.   The more you use the world the better.

But the danger is that you plow the field and plant it and work it and you come to depend on your work; you cannot stop.  You become a slave to the work. Shabbat comes to tell you to take control of your life. You don’t really need nature. On the Shabbat you view your work as already completed. Shabbat is your declaration of independence from nature. You have your own internal creation within you and that is allowed. For example, marital relations are permitted.  Lighting a fire shows our domination over nature, so we need to stop, just to show our independence from nature. This second aspect of Shabbat is represented by the Exodus from the slavery in Egypt.  Shabbat represents freedom, whether it be from physical bondage at the hand of the Egyptians or from a self imposed bondage in which we make ourselves slaves to our need to control and work nature. It is this second aspect which generates the prohibition of burning a fire since fire is the archetype of man controlling nature. And since this aspect is a secondary aspect, the punishment for not fulfilling it is lesser. All the other malachot (types of work) relate to first reason given for Shabbat, namely, the Creation.

This explains another difference in wording.  In Parshat KiTisa (Exodus 31:13 ) it says Shabbat is a sign that God created world. In our parsha it does not mention that Shabbat is a sign. In fact there is no mention that Shabbat relates to the creation of world at all.  When the Torah speaks of Shabbat as a sign it means that Shabbat is a commemoration of God’s creation of the world. But in Parshat VaYakhel (Exodus 35:1-3) Shabbat is strictly a representation of our freedom and  independence (as represented by the prohibition of using fire). It is a push back from the possible trap which comes from being masters over nature,  viz. becoming enslaved by nature.

And why does the Torah add this aspect to Shabbat?  What happened in the intervening chapters?  Between the Shabbat mentioned in Ki Tisa and the Shabbat of Vayakhel we read about the sin of the golden calf.  That is slavery, man becoming dependent on  something other than God.  So now it becomes necessary to mention man’s need to declare his independence from nature, so we mention this freedom aspect of Shabbat by discussing the prohibition of burning a fire. Shabbat is thus an aspiration upward toward God the Creator and also a separation from the slavery that Earthly work may trap us in.

Rabbi Nachum Danzig

February 24, 2019

Parsha 22

Rambam tells us (1) of three approaches to understanding the Midrashim of the Rabbis. The first approach is to take them as literally true, believing them fully even in spite of any incongruence or impossibilities. The second approach, too, takes them literally, but rejects them when they contradict reason or science. The first approach is common among the religiously faithful community, while the second typifies the non-believing public. But Rambam favors a third approach. Realizing that the Rabbis were very wise, he says one should not take their words literally; but instead one should interpret any incongruence or scientific impossibilities found in their word as metaphors for deeper, more abstract concepts.

A classic example of this may be found in the description of the manna. The Sages describe the manna as a miraculous food. (2) It had any taste its consumer wished. It came from heaven to each man’s door, or further away if he sinned. It was exactly the right amount for each person, and it left no residue in the body such that there was no need to expel waste. Observant Jews take this in its literal sense. Alternatively, there have been various attempts by modern scientists to try to identify a plant in the desert fitting these descriptions. This endeavor may be of some interest, but we must ask ourselves, how would Rambam want us to read these explanations? Surely, we are meant to find a deeper meaning.

The latter half of parshat beha’aholtekha provides some clues to this deeper meaning of the manna.

In verse 11:4 the marginal element among the Jews “lusted a lust” and began to complain. Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk in his classic text, Meshech Chochmah (3) asks what does it mean to “lust a lust”? Before we answer this let us look at verse 11:5. Here the Israelites go on to complain that they remember the free fish they enjoyed in Egypt. Yet as Rashi points out, nothing in Egypt was free. So what did the Jews mean? Rashi states that they really meant they wanted to be free from mitzvot. Rabbi Meir Simcha explains that since fish needs no special laws to eat it, such as shechitah, it was unencumbered, “free” food. So their lust for meat was a desire to eat meat like they used to eat fish – easily, with no mitzvah or spiritual element. In their complaint against the manna, the Israelites say, (verse 11:6) “ein kol”, there is nothing there. Meaning, this food doesn’t go through the ordinary digestive process – it has no residue. (4) And this is precisely what they disliked; they wanted to eat normally. The Torah then in verse 11:7-8 explains how great manna was, tasting like “leshad hashemen,” a fried sweet dough (Rashi).

But this physical description is countered by the Talmud’s metaphysical description of the taste of the manna. The Talmud points out that for evil people the manna was troublesome. The taste is dependent on ones spiritual level. How could this be? Rabbi Meir Simcha explains that although we may try to describe the manna, we cannot succeed. It is similar to Rambam’s explanation regarding the impossibility of understanding heaven, which is non-physical, as long as we live steeped in a physical world; this being like trying to explain colors to a person blind from birth. The manna having a taste dependent on your spiritual level is a metaphor meaning that eating the manna was a spiritual experience of pleasure, not a normal taste. It is as though the soul’s taste buds tasted it. But it was not a physical food as we understand food. In the same way that with a number of people listening to the same music, some may like it and others won’t. The music is the same; one just has to develop sensitivity to it. By complaining that they didn’t like the taste of the manna, the Israelites were in fact complaining that they were not spiritually ready for it and wanted to be left at a lower spiritual plane.

Just as learning Torah is pleasurable only if you are ready for it, so too the manna needed spiritual readiness to be enjoyed. And in fact, those who appreciated Torah appreciated manna. Let us elaborate on this comparison. In whose merit did the Israelites receive the manna? Aaron brought protective clouds, Miriam brought water, and Moshe brought the manna. He also brought the Torah. Eating and loving manna shows ones love of Moshe’s teaching. Rejecting manna is a rejection of his teaching. Rabbi Meir Simcha goes on to explain that normally eating meat develops all types of physical desires, but eating manna, causes the reverse, as one eats it, ones physical desires dissipate. By eating the manna, the Israelites had lost their physical, sensual, desires. It follows then that the Israelites should have lost their desire for meat. Why then did they ask for meat? We must realize that the Israelites did not like this state of affairs. They wanted to redevelop their physical desires. Thus it says they lusted the lust. They wanted to attain once again the lust for physical pleasures. They lusted to have the lust again. They had lost their enjoyment for life and they were not on a high enough spiritual level to find life’s pleasure in Torah. Their request for meat symbolizes their desire to reenter the world of sensual pleasures.

Now we can understand Moshe’s harsh reaction starting at verse 11, where he says: “Did I give birth to these people so that I have to support them physically? Where should I get enough meat?” We might ask, what kind of a question is this? Of course G-d can provide Moshe with meat. But we must realize that Moshe is expressing the difference between being rabbenu (teacher) and not being avinu (father). Avinu is an eternal relationship – your child is always yours. But this is not so with a teacher. Moshe is the nation’s teacher, and the moment the gap is too great, the people can no longer be his disciples, and Moshe ceases to be their leader. Rejecting the manna and opting for a more physical existence is rejecting Moshe.

This explains G-d’s reply to Moshe’s complaint. G-d tells Moshe he must choose a Sanhedrin of 70 elders (verses 11:16-18). On first sight this makes no sense. Will the elders be in charge of acquiring, collecting and distributing meat? It doesn’t seem so. Once we realize that the real issue is not manna, but Moshe as leader we can understand it. The gap between Moshe’s high level and the nation’s low level is filled by the Sanhedrin. By Moshe saying, I cannot give them meat, he means I am not a physical leader, I cannot provide physical food. I can only be a spiritual leader.

Now, when the Sanhedrin was chosen, they received a prophetic experience – just like Moshe. But two people, who despite their prophetic state, would not join the Sanhedrin. They were Eldad and Medad. But they did reveal their prophecy to Joshua. Moshe will die and Joshua will bring people into land. Moshe is not bothered by this prophecy, but Joshua is. What is the meaning of the timing of this prophecy here? Moshe can no longer be their leader. His inability to take them into Eretz Yisrael is further proof of that. The gap between leader and nation is too wide. The gap was caused by many failings of the people, such as their complaint, after leaving the sea of reeds, that they want water; their sigh of relief after revelation at Mount Sinai; their worshiping the golden calf; and finally their request for meat. At the moment of Matan Torah there was the closeness of teacher and student, and, had it lasted, Moshe would have been able to lead the people into the land. Thus, even the prophecy relates to the issue of Moshe as leader, and the inability of the nation to be at the level of the manna which represents a spiritual existence.

Chapter 12 may at first seem unrelated to the preceding chapter. Miriam and Aaron criticize Moshe for not having normal marital relations with his wife. All the other prophets need not separate from their wives, but Moshe does. Normal prophets are attached to their bodies; their bodies are not prophetic bodies, so they can have relations. But Moshe was in a constant state of prophecy and marital relations would disturb that state. Miriam’s critique was not simply aimed at Moshe’s behavior with his wife. She was telling him that while it is true that there must be a gap between teacher and disciple, or else there can be no real education, the gap cannot be too wide.

There are two ways to close a gap – either to raise up the nation, or to lower Moshe. Miriam’s advice was essentially that Moshe should talk down on the level of the nation. She wanted Moshe to remain leader even if it meant he would have to come down from his level. This is the meaning of Miriam’s advice that Moshe be with his wife; he should become a physical leader. The only problem with this is that G-d says that Moshe was in such a high state that it was impossible for him to lower himself. Either the nation must elevate itself or an intermediary must be found: the Sanhedrin.

Thus we see a common thread unifying the parshah: the rejection of the manna, the establishment of the Sanhedrin, and the prophecy that Moshe won’t bring the Jewish people into the Land, all point to the people’s inability to be the disciples of Moshe. The manna is the symbol of Moshe’s Torah teachings and a metaphor for the spiritual life. In this light we can understand the seemingly bizarre statements in Midrash Rabba. When it says that the manna has any taste its consumer wishes, it may mean that Torah needs to be adjusted to the needs of the student, and that each student will discover something uniquely his own in the Torah. That the manna comes from heaven to each man’s door, or further away if he sins indicates that the Torah, like the manna, is a Divine gift, which is difficult to obtain without spiritual purity and readiness and Divine help. Using Rambam’s principle of searching out the hidden meaning of obscure rabbinic statements, we have hopefully uncovered gems of wisdom hidden in the Torah.

Rabbi Nachum Danzig, JCT alumnus, teaches in the Overseas Student Division.
SOURCES

(1) Rambam, Commentary to the Mishnah, Sanhedrin 10, Introduction .
(2) Yoma 75a.
(3) Meshekh Chokhmah Numbers 11:4 (Vol.2 p.80-81in Copperman Ed.)
(4) Yoma 75b.