BEHAALOTCHA 5783

Lama Nigara, Why Should We Miss Out?

(Inspired by Rabbi Efrem Goldberg)

In last week’s Torah portion, all the tribal princes achieved special status by bringing their gifts to the Mishkan portable Temple—that is all, except Aaron, prince of the tribe of Levi. This week’s parsha opens with Gd commanding Aaron to light the Menorah. Whats’ the connection? Rashi, in his commentary, fills us in. He quotes a Midrash (Tanchuma 5) that suggests that Aaron felt sad that he didn’t have the same opportunity as the other princes. Therefore, Gd told him not to worry, that “Your role is greater than theirs, for you will light the Menorah.”  

2 questions: could it be that the holy Aaron was really jealous of the other princes? We know that he wasn’t the jealous type. When Gd was trying to convince Moses at the Burning Bush to lead the Jewish people out of Egypt, Moses, not wanting his brother Aaron to feel sad, implied that since his brother Aaron is older, perhaps he should be the leader. Gd then tells him (Ex. 4:14): v’ra-acha v’samach libo (when he sees you, his heart will rejoice). In other words, “Don’t worry, Aaron’s not the jealous type. He’ll be delighted for you.”   

And secondly, how could Gd reward Aaron’s envy with a greater honor of lighting the Menorah? I spoke on Shavuot how sometimes envy can be a good thing and we see that with Aaron. Just as Aaron was happy for his brother Moses getting all the glory, we can be certain that he was glad in his heart that the other princes got to elevate themselves with their offerings. What saddened Aaron, says Rashi, was that it seemed that Gd was withholding from him the opportunity to contribute. Aaron was someone who always sought spiritual opportunities. Aaron wasn’t jealous, he just wanted to do more. Jealousy is only bad when you want what others have. Aaron wanted to BE more, to reach higher, to be more holy.

We have this notion that a person should be able to be satisfied with little. As it says in Pirke Avot (4:1): Eyzeh hu ashir, hasomeyach b’chelko (Who is rich, one who is satisfied with his lot in life). The question is, do we apply this principle of being satisfied with one’s lot to spiritual things as well? Or, do we say, “Don’t be satisfied with the way you are now. Break through barriers, push further, be ambitious, be driven.” When it comes to the spiritual, we must never be satisfied with where we are.

So, don’t say I’m satisfied with my lot … and that is to come to shul once a month late and leave early—having prayed without much kavana (feeling or intention). Don’t say my lot is not to spend too much time learning Torah and when I learn, it’s superficial. Instead say, “No I’m capable, I’m driven, I want more, I want to get closer to Gd!” This is what we learn from Aaron.

We learn it also from Pesach Sheni—the law of the 2^nd Passover in our parsha. A year after the Exodus, the Jewish people celebrated their 1^st Passover in freedom at Sinai. There were those, however, who could not participate because they were impure. Perhaps they were burying their mother or father and became impure through contact with the dead. Or, perhaps they were away getting supplies and were not able to make it back for the holiday. They asked Moses (Num. 9:7):  Lama nigara (Why should we lose out) and not be able to present the Passover offering? Why should we be deprived of this spiritual opportunity?

So, Gd told Moses, a month later they can bring the Passover offering with a Pesach Sheni—a do-over 2^nd Pesach. We commemorate this every year by adjusting our prayers on that day as if it were a semi-holiday and by eating matzah. Rashi notes that instead of Moses initiating this law, it was done through this group of people. What was their merit?

Rav Zeibl Epstein notes that there’s a big difference between Passover and Pesach Sheni. The original Passover is from Heaven—top down with Gd commanded us. What a night that 1^st Passover was for us—a night of overwhelming light and breakthrough and redemption from above.

Pesach Sheni, however, is not top down—from Gd to us. Pesach Sheni is bottom up—from us to Gd. Moses, at 1^st, seemed reluctant to consider their request because, according to the law, they were too late. The time for the Passover offering had passed. But they refused to take “no” for an answer. They persevered; they were tenacious. They asked, Lama nigara (Why should we lose out)?  

It is in their merit that we commemorate Pesach Sheni as the holiday of lama nigara. It’s the Yom Tov of never being satisfied, of not saying it’s good enough, of not just having good, but striving for great. Pesach Sheni represents such a love, such a passion, such a commitment for Gd’s Torah and mitzvot. We need to live and model and instill in our families and those around us to have this attitude of lama nigara—why should we lose out in coming closer to Hashem.

Say: “I can’t miss putting on tefillin in the morning or praying Mincha and Maariv in the afternoon and evening.  I can’t miss a tzedaka opportunity to give charity to a good cause or someone in need. Everyone else gave, I want to give too. I can’t miss a chessed chance of providing a shiva meal. I can’t miss a Torah class. I want to go; I want a chance to be spiritually uplifted.” Every one of us needs to say again and again, lama nigara, why should I be denied any opportunity to get closer to Gd?

How did the Children of Israel in the dessert know when to travel? The Torah (Num. 9:17) tells us: “And whenever the cloud of glory lifted from Tent [of Meeting in the Mishkan], afterwards the Children of Israel would journey.”

Today, with all kinds of flight delays, cancellations and challenges, it’s hard to travel. People crowd the gate area of a flight. Silver Medallion members go 1^st, then Zones #1 through #4. And before all of that go families with little children. Then you have all the people in wheelchairs who claim they’re not able to walk. During the flight, a miracle happens 30,000 feet in the sky—they’re healed! As soon as the plane lands, they not only can walk, they run! They don’t get a wheelchair on their return. Transportation is complicated and frustrating today.

So, how did the Jews in the dessert know when their Zone was called to move? The cloud of glory lifted from the Mishkan.  How did they know when to stop? The verse tells us: “In the place that the cloud would come to rest, there the Children of Israel would encamp.”

The next verse reveals the whole point: Al pi Hashem yisu B’ney Yisrael, v’al pi Hashem yachanu (According to the word of Hashem the Children of Israel journeyed, and according to the word of Hashem they would encamp). When Hashem said it was time to go—it was time to go. When Hashem said it was time to stop and rest, it was time to stop and rest.

Isaiah Horowitz (17^th cent.) in his seminal work Shelah HaKadosh, taught that this verse was talking, not only to the generation of the desert, but to us! We also go and come; we’re at home and we’re on the road; we’re in the middle of our routine and we take a break and go on vacation. And the key, says the Shelah, is to always be: Al pi Hashem yisu B’ney Yisrael, v’al pi Hashem yachanu (According to the word of Hashem the Children of Israel journeyed, and according to the word of Hashem they would encamp).

The key is not to leave your Judaism in the shul, but to take it with you on the road. Wherever we are, we must live al pi Hashem (according to Gd). There’s nothing wrong with taking a vacation, a break. There’s nothing wrong with recreation. In fact, it’s our responsibility for a healthy mind, a healthy body and a healthy spirit to do so—just as long as it is al pi Hashem!

Rav Chaim Shmulevitz shares a beautiful parable, and with this I’ll end: Imagine a mother with a baby is traveling—whether it’s for family simcha, a personal vacation, business, whatever. This little baby travels all over the world—Israel, Australia, South Africa, the Far East, America coast to coast. When the mother returns, her passport is stamped by each of those countries. But if you were able to ask the baby where were it was, the baby would answer, “I was in my mother’s arms!”

This mother, literally or figuratively, wore a Baby Bjorn Carrier, or carried the baby in her arms. But from the baby’s perspective, while the baby may have been all over the world, the baby feels like it was always in its mother’s arms! Says Rav Chaim Shmulevitz, when the Jewish people were in the desert—living a life al pi Hashem (according to Gd)—wherever they were, they were in Hashem’s arms, with Gd affectionately holding them.

When a person considers every step they take, every decision they make, every behavior, every turn, asking, “Should I take this job; should I marry this girl; what school should I go to; when is the time to move on; when is the time to settle down; what is the right decision? … it has to be al pi Hashem (according to Gd).  

My friends, if you’re planning to travel this summer, enjoy your time away. But always remember, wherever you go, you’ll be in Gd’s arms as long as you travel al pi Hashem (according to Gd). Amen!