Slow Down, You’re Moving Too Fast

David Flamholz

One of the truly striking sections of this week’s Parsha, Parshas Shmini, is the story of the unfortunate and tragic deaths of the two sons of Aharon, Nadav and Avihu. In an effort to console Aharon, Moshe tells him B’Krovi Ekadesh - through those that are close to Me I will be sanctified. Rashi on that pasuk brings the Sifra which explains: "Moshe told Aharon, ‘Aharon my brother, I have known that the House would be sanctified by those beloved of the Omnipresent, and I thought that that would be either by myself or by you. Now I see that they are greater than I and than you.’"

Moshe was in effect telling Aharon that Nadav and Avihu were on a higher level than they themselves were. Similarly, the Zohar in Acharei Mos says Nadav and Avihu were equal to the seventy members of Sanhedrin and, therefore, their deaths atoned for the sins of Bnei Yisorel. We get the impression from both Rashi and the Zohar that Nadav and Avihu were considered to be nearly perfect individuals, on the same level as – if not on a higher level than – Moshe and Aharon.

However, from the Medrash Rabbah and Tanchuma of Acharei Mot we get a different impression. There are several reasons given for the deaths of Nadav and Avihu and all of them are related to some impropriety which they committed. Among them is the adjudication of the law in the presence of their teachers, the bringing of a sacrifice which was not commanded, and the bringing of a foreign fire. According to some they would even walk behind Moshe and Aharon and ask themselves when the leaders would die so that they could take over.

This is hardly the behavior one would expect from future leaders of the nation.

How are we to rationalize the impression we get of bnei Aharon from Rashi and the Zohar with the reasons for their deaths as put forth by Chazal?

R’ Eliyahu Dessler in his work Michtav Me’Eliyahu explains that there is one common denominator in all the reasons listed above - in all of these acts they lacked both humility and patience. They were indeed destined to be the next leaders of klal yisorel, however, only at some future time. They believed that their prestige and future position among klal yisroel granted them special privileges to act now as if they had already achieved that position. But why were they wrong for assuming their positions before the proper time – what would be wrong with them taking advantage of those privileges in advance?

The Rambam in Shmoneh Prakim writes that one must not be too extreme in any trait. One must pick the middle path in all his ways. Says R’ Dessler, the same applies to time. There is a time for everything but one must recognize the need for limits in time as well. One cannot be too quick or too eager to take advantage of opportunities presented. However, should one be too slow, the window of opportunity may close.

We find a similar idea in the Gemara Berachot 64a: "R’Avin HaLevi said: Whoever forces the moment, the moment forces him." Rashi in Eruvin 13b explains that one who "forces the moment" is one who attempts to attain wealth and honor before the destined time. This person will be "forced by the moment"- he will encounter setbacks and will not be successful. The Vilna Gaon adds that one who does attempt to force the moment, places himself in mortal danger.

Therefore, says R’ Dessler, in reality Nadav and Avihu might indeed have been greater than Moshe and Aharon, as Rashi said. Their deaths could, therefore, have atoned for the sins of klal yisroel. However, they mistakenly believed that their opportunity for greatness was NOW - there was no need to hold off until a later time. Nadav and Avihu were under the impression that they could take advantage of their position. They failed to set limits where limits had to be set and this led to their premature deaths.

The Strange Fire

Yosef Kalinsky

The passage in this week's parshah dealing with the death Aharon's sons Nadav and Avihu is particularly short and ambiguous. The Torah simply records that they "brought what was not commanded." What was their grave sin which invoked a fire from Hashem to descend and instantly consume them? The commentaries grapple with this question and reach seemingly opposite approaches. Some understand that in actuality no sin was committed, or if any, nothing so serious as to be punishable by death. Others view the sin of Nadav and Avihu as a capital sin which warranted the wrath of Hashem. The Sifra (10:24) describes their action as being done from the joy of seeing Hashem’s fire on the mizbeach - amdu lehosif ahava al ahava. The Sifra is more commending than condemning of the act of Nadav and Avihu. They did not transgress an explicit prohibition in the Torah but exceeded bounds of morality and modesty and were punished by death, due to their elevated position. They wished to express their own personal joy in the sanctification of the Mishkan and, out of joyous zeal, brought additional incense. They wished to cling to Hashem in an informal and personal way without conforming to preordained rules and regulations. Nadav and Avihu acted out of a nedivus lev an overflowing of emotions due to the joyous scene outside of the Mishkan and wanted to express their own gratitude towards Hashem. Apparently, there is no room in Judaism for "religious ecstasy" when it conflicts with the letter of the law.

The Ksav Sofer offers an original way of reading the psukim. He starts by showing references in the psukim to the first two accounts of the sin of Aharon’s sin offered by Rashi and the Midrash, ruling halacha in front of one’s rebbe and intoxication, can be found in the psukim, but can’t find a hint of the other reasons given by the Midrash, not marring or saying "when will these two elders die?," in the psukim. The reason Nadav and Avihu did not marry, explains the Ksav Sofer, was not due to self- importance or haughtiness, rather from love of Hashem and his people. Nadav and Avihu knew that they were the destined future leaders of Bnei Yisrael (in Shemot 24:9 at Matan Torah, Hashem separates Moshe, Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, and seventy elders) and viewed Moshe, their rebbe, as a model. They noticed how Moshe had become totally involved attending to the needs of the community and could not concentrate on raising his children, who would not become worthy of becoming the nation’s next leaders. Nadav and Avihu decided that a leader can best serve his nation if he is freed from the worries and struggles of his family. This is the meaning of the statement "when will the two elders die." They did not want or anticipate Moshe and Aharon’s deaths, rather they understood what it takes to be the next leaders. Their sin is similar to that of Chizkiyahu Hamelech (Berachos 10a) who looked too far in the future and worried about consequences without taking Yad Hashem into account. Man is responsible to follow the commandments of G-d regardless of how he perceives the future; that is for Hashem to deal with. This is hinted at in the psukim in the fact that they sinned out of aish shel ahavas Hashem ul'amo, but this was a "strange fire not commanded for them to bring". Hashem did not command them to lead in this fashion or in any way different than Moshe and they were expected to marry and have children.

The Ksav Sofer offers another way of grasping the sin of Nadav and Avihu, based on the two reasons given by Rashi. Dictating halacha in front of Moshe and performing the Avodah intoxicated led to the eventual sin of bringing the strange fire, otherwise how is it possible to comprehend how Nadav and Avihu, such tzadikim, could have erred. The order of events is : they drank wine which leads to haughtiness and light-headedness, which caused them to dictate halacha in front of Moshe, and their eventual bringing of strange fire. In the same vein, the Michtav MeEliyahu (chelek 2), Pirush Sh"dal (Shmuel David Letzatto), and R’ Kasher in Torah Shleimah (parshas Mishpatim perek 24, footnote #5) state that the sin of Nadav and Avihu is found in their midah of haughtiness. R’ Dessler enumerates fifteen sins and sees the root of all of them imbedded in their lack of anavah. He quotes the Ramban’s comment Samchu al ze bebitachon atzmi vedavar ze ainenu mattim bedakai dakus el midas anava." This is supported by the examples, "strange fire" - they should have feared to offer something not commanded of them, to worship while "intoxicated" – even though they were yet prohibited to enter drunk, they should have realized the effects of wine and the lack of seriousness it causes before entering, "without proper dress-code" – the belt is supposed to inspire Yiras Shomayim in the Kohen Gadol before entering the Kodesh HaKodashim, "without washing hands" – they did not see the purpose of purifying themselves before entering the Mishkan, "without children" – the Gemorah Sanhedrin states that someone without children lacks rachmanus and therefore is invalid to judge cases dealing with death penalty- a lack of mercy is an opening for haughtiness. Obviously there are many lessons to glean from the episode involving Nadav and Avihu. We must understand that Hashem decides the limitations on our performance of avodas Hashem, and that one must be careful in deciding different and new ways of serving Hashem. Also, as R’ Dessler categorizes their sin as a flaw in haughtiness one should approach avodas Hashem as a servant excited to please his master, without external motivations and goals.

Play it Again, Sam

Benjamin Balint

"And Nadav and Avihu, the sons of Aharon, took each his censer, put fire in it, and put incense on it, and offered strange fire before G-d, which He had not commanded them. And a fire went out from G-d and consumed them, and they died before G-d. (Vayikra 10:1-2)

The drama of this episode is impossible to ignore. To the extent, at least according to the Ramban, that the Mishkan represented and perpetuated the revelation of Har Sinai, the sin of the sons of Aharon parallels the sin of the golden calf. In both instances, the fall from the pinnacle of spiritual experience to the depths of religious failure is sudden and devastating. Only a verse before, the purpose of the Mishkan was at long last realized: "And fire came from G-d and consumed upon the altar the offering and the fat parts; the people saw it, they trembled and fell on their faces." Nadav and Avihu, like the perpetrators of the sin of the golden calf, were overcome with an anxiousness and irrepressible restlessness. The same two brothers who had witnessed a great vision of G-d Himself (Shmos 24:9-10), were undeterred in their quest to approach this awesome presence.

What was the nature of their sin? In a word, Nadav and Avihu's actions undermined and subverted the very raison d’être and spirit of the Mishkan.

First, as demonstrated by "ish machtaso" - "each one of them took his censer," the two men exhibited a conceited individualism. "she’horu halacha bifnei Moshe rabban" - "that they ruled in halacha in front of their teacher Moshe." (Eruvin 63a) was but one symptom of this strait. In divorcing themselves from the tzibbur, they contradicted the cooperative and communal features which characterized the Mishkan from its inception. The Mishkan was a national endeavor from the outset. In offering their own k’tores - the symbol of a diverse but unified Jewish people and the one sacrifice never allowed to be brought as a voluntary n’davah - they refused to recognize that authentic religious expression must take place within a larger national and societal context.

Second, and more fundamentally, Nadav and Avihu, in letting their religious fervor and ardor go unchecked, performed an act "which He had not commanded them." In their excited spontaneity, they forgot the concept articulated by the prophet: "Has the Lord as great a delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken [is better] than the fat of rams!" (1 Shmuel 15:22) They forgot that the detailed laws governing every aspect of the Mishkan and the sacrifices were not trivial technicalities, but were designed precisely to limit religious subjectivity. They forgot that in Judaism, the Divine Presence, is a commanding Presence. And they forgot that whereas the pagan brings his offering in an attempt to make his G-d subservient to his own wishes, the Jew brings his offering in an attempt to make himself subservient to G-d's wishes.

In this light, we may better appreciate the heroic, stoic silence of "Vayidom Aharon" - "And Aharon was silent." How he must have yearned to cry out in mourning! And yet, how fitting a response it was to his sons' violation of G-d’s will.

That we can all stand to benefit in our religious lives from a fresh spirit of vigorous passion and emotion is undoubtedly true. But in embracing the subjective accent on the how, we cannot neglect, as did Nadav and Avihu, the objective accent on the what; personal religious expression must occur within the framework of the normative content of our religion.

Last updated: 02/25/99 Comments: lehmann@ymail.yu.edu
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© Publication of the Student Organization of Yeshiva University - April 22,1998
Parsha Picture designed by Ephraim Shapiro (eshapiro@ymail.yu.edu).

Last updated: 02/25/99 Comments: lehmann@ymail.yu.edu
Disclaimer    Webmaster     Web Policy     Copyright (c) 1999 Yeshiva University