PINCHAS

KORBAN TAMID: ELEVATION AND DEDICATION

The middle portion of parashas Pinchas describes various korbanos (/offerings) that were brought in the Mishkan (and subsequently in the Beis HaMikdash, the Holy Temple). One of these offerings was the korban tamid (continual offering). The details of this basic, daily are introduced as follows:

Tzav es Bnei Yisrael ve’amarta aleihem (Command the Children of and say to them) es korbani lachmi le’ishai (My offering, My food for My fires) rei’ach nichochi (a satisfying aroma) tishmeru lehakriv li bemo’ado (you shall safeguard to offer to Me in its appointed time).1 The successive verses enumerate all the technical minutiae, including the measurements of the necessary ingredients. Then, in the midst of these instructions a seemingly unrelated phrase states: “Olas tamid ha’asuyah beHar Sinai (It is the continual elevation

1 Bamidbar 28:2.

157 158 TAPESTRIES offering that was done at Mount Sinai) lerei’ach nicho’ach isheh laHashem (for a satisfying aroma, a fire-offering to Hashem).”2 Within this passage, there are several enigmatic statements that raise a number of questions. First, the reader may notice the curious usage of the term “lachmi (My food).” Since Hashem has no physical attributes requiring material sustenance, the concept of food is essentially irrelevant. What deeper message is this anthropomorphic imagery designed to convey? Why is only the korban tamid specifically associated with this perplexing sym- bolism? Second, the unusual reference to Har Sinai at this juncture is puzzling. Rashi explains that the korban tamid described here is identical to the korban tamid that was offered at Sinai when the Mishkan was inaugurated.3 But even if these offerings were the same, referring to Sinai in this context still seems out of place. The name “Har Sinai” most obviously alludes to Matan Torah. Why is Har Sinai even mentioned here? The reading of this parashah in relation to the Jewish calendar is another area mandating exploration. Parashas Pinchas is always read during the season of the “Three Weeks,” the days between the Seventeenth of and Tisha B’Av. How is this parashah’s subject appropriate for a time of national mourning? Why is a Temple ritual such as the korban tamid relevant to learn at the precise time we are commemorating the Temple’s destruction and the discontinuation of its sacrifices? Finally, perhaps the most important question centers around relevance. How is the korban tamid pertinent to our daily lives?

2 Bamidbar 28:6. 3 Rashi on Bamidbar 28:6. PINCHAS 159

Without the Beis HaMikdash, details about all the korbanos have no practical application today. What then can we learn from this section that can potentially impact our lives?

Daily Bread and Soul Food Several commentators make note of the anthropomorphic usage of the term “lachmi (My food).” Zalman Sorotzkin asks rhetorically, “Could it be that Hashem requires our bread?!,”4 implying that the literal interpretation of this phrase is ludicrous. The expression “lachmi (My food)” should be understood allegori- cally. Nevertheless, the Gemara explains that the Hebrew word mizbei’ach () is an acronym, and the letter mem stands for meizin (sustainer).5 How is the altar related to sustenance? If the mizbei’ach was the place where the Jewish People brought offerings and Hashem received them, who exactly was being sustained? Rashi explains that in the merits of our korbanos offered on the altar, the world is fed and nourished.6 Korbanos consisted of edible items: kosher animals, flour, and oil. Burning an offering on the altar meant sacrificing significant portions of one’s daily provisions. However, donating toward both personal and com- munal korbanos did not negatively impact one’s livelihood. On the contrary, the mizbei’ach was the source of outpourings of blessing and bounty; it was the medium through which Hashem sustained His People. Thus, the expression “lachmi” indicates that the food we sacrifice becomes the very bread Hashem gives us. Our korbanos generate the merits through which Hashem provides our

4 Oznayim LaTorah, Bamidbar, p. 222 and , p. 63. 5 Kesuvos 10b. 6 Rashi on Kesubos 10b. 160 TORAH TAPESTRIES nourishment and livelihood. The korban tamid was a regular reminder that we are completely dependent on Hashem for sustenance. Importantly, however, korbanos must never be viewed as a business deal between Hashem and His People, whereby Hashem provides for us in exchange for our offerings. Offering korbanos was a means through which we fostered a loving relationship with our Creator. That is the reason why the word korban is etymologi- cally related to the word karov (close). Along these lines, Rabbi Moshe Reiss presents another inter- pretation of the expression “lachmi.”7 He quotes the Netziv, who notes that the word “lachmi” shares the same letters as the word “halchamah (soldering).” Halchamah is the process through which two separate pieces of metal are soldered together. Soldering represents the strongest possible bonding method through which two individual pieces are rendered inseparable. Just as soldering creates a permanent physical bond between two metal objects, korbanos enabled us to strengthen our loving spiritual bond with Hashem. The korban tamid is appropriately referred to as “lachmi” because it continuously nourishes our unbreakable connection with Hashem. In this light, we gain a greater appreciation of the word lechem. With lechem – bread, the most basic of foods – we feed ourselves to stay alive. However, we now understand that lechem provides much more than nourishment. Indeed, it is the “lechem” that sustains the “halchamah,” the steadfast bond between the tangible body and the spiritual soul. Hashem, by contrast, has neither physical characteristics nor a corporeal reality; He has no mouth to consume bread, nor a nose to smell a scent. Thus, the “rei’ach

7 Rabbi Moshe Reiss, MeiRosh Tzurim, p. 361. PINCHAS 161 nicho’ach (satisfying aroma)” mentioned in this pasuk refers to the spiritual satisfaction that Hashem experiences through our halchamah, through our attachment to Him by way of korbanos.8 The deeper purpose of the korban tamid, as revealed by the term “lachmi,” helps us understand other aspects of its practice in the Beis HaMikdash. Rabbi Reiss discusses that this korban repre- sented not only a loving bond between Hashem and us, but it was also the way in which the Jewish People connected to Hashem on a regular basis.9 The korban tamid was a standard sacrifice, offered twice daily, every day of the year, without exception. It character- ized the importance of regularity and regimentation in the service of Hashem. All holidays and regular days required the korban tamid. The message of this korban, explains Rabbi Reiss, is that our connection to Hashem needs to be established and strengthened every single day, not just on special occasions. Indeed, the korban tamid was the daily bread which became our soul food – the source of our spiritual sustenance. Taking these insights into consideration, the concept of the korban tamid becomes quite relevant to our lives today. More than ever in these very difficult times, our relationship with Hashem should be characterized by the same constancy evoked by the korban tamid. A steadfast, ongoing rapport with is what distinguishes us from other nations. In parashas Balak, the Torah describes Hashem appearing to the non-Jewish prophet Bilaam as follows: “Vayikar Hashem el Bilaam (Hashem happened upon Bilaam)”10 Rashi comments that the use of the word “vayikar” demonstrates a

8 The Says, p. 381, quoting Bamidbar Rabbah. 9 MeiRosh Tzurim, p. 367. 10 Bamidbar 23:4. 162 TORAH TAPESTRIES temporary and coincidental interaction with Hashem.11 Another example of this happenstance perspective is found with regard to Amalek, whose ruthless battle tactics against the in the desert are described as “karcha baderech (happened upon you on the way).”12 Amalek’s philosophy is that world occurrences are dictated by meaningless coincidence. This concept of happenstance is antithetical to the Jewish outlook. Our emunah in Hashem includes firm belief in Hashem's loving and purposeful Divine Providence. To maintain this kind of unconditional faith, we must nurture and strengthen our relationship with God. How can we accomplish this? The answer lies in the korban tamid. Although korbanos are unfortunately no longer extant, we should still strive to emulate the codified and routine patterns of the Jewish People who twice daily, every day of the year, participated in the korban tamid. In our lives today, it is only through ongoing efforts, including regimented davening and commitment to mitzvos, that we have the potential to enhance our steadfast bond with Hashem. In the times of the Beis HaMikdash, offering the korban tamid twice daily fostered this constant relationship with Hashem. Why then do we read about it in the season of commemorating the Temple’s destruction? Our Sages list the discontinuation of the korban tamid as one of the tragedies that specifically occurred on the Seventeenth of Tammuz.13 Rabbi Reiss further explains the timing of the reading of this parashah during the Three Weeks.14 One cannot genuinely mourn the loss of something without adequately appreciating its value.

11 Rashi on Bamidbar 23:4. 12 Devarim 25:18. 13 Taanis 26:2. 14 MeiRosh Tzurim, p. 368. PINCHAS 163

A very young child will not be devastated by the loss of a hun- dred-dollar bill because he does not really understand its worth. Similarly, our generation has been exiled and has endured without the Beis HaMikdash for almost two thousand years. As a conse- quence, we no longer recognize the immense spiritual benefit korbanos provided to the Jewish People. In order to appreciate the degree to which the korbanos brought Bnei Yisrael to great spiritual heights and to recognize how much is lacking, we need the reminder that appears in this parashah. Rabbi Reiss cites the Sefas Emes, who explains that studying the details of the korban tamid opens our eyes to the immensity of our national loss. This section is read deliberately in this season in order to deepen our appreciation of the special closeness with Hashem that we once enjoyed. Learning about the korban tamid fosters our recognition of what our spiritual lives are lacking. Such a realization serves to intensify our bereavement stemming from the Temple’s destruction, and is therefore consistent with the spirit of the Three Weeks. This section of parashas Pinchas should arouse our yearning to offer the korban tamid once again.

Habituation and Re-Jew-venation With a clearer understanding of the expression “lachmi” and its application to the korban tamid, let us now turn to our remaining questions. Specifically, what is the reason for the seemingly misplaced reference to Har Sinai in the pasuk about the korban tamid? Furthermore, how does the mention of Har Sinai (which invariably alludes to Matan Torah) shed light on the relevance of the korban tamid in our daily lives? As mentioned above, Rashi comments that the phrase “ha’asuyah beHar Sinai (that was done at Mount Sinai)” functions as 164 TORAH TAPESTRIES a comparative declaration. The korban tamid commanded here was just like the continual offerings that were performed at the Mishkan’s dedication at Sinai.15 The Gemara discusses the halachic applications of this statement.16 However, given that these legal technicalities no longer apply to us today in practical terms, what other lessons are we meant to learn from the association of Har Sinai with the korban tamid? Rabbi Yissocher Frand gleans an important philosophical message from this passage.17 This parashah specifically mentions the very first korban tamid, when it was established as a regular ritual. The korban tamid of Sinai and every korban tamid thereafter were designed to be equal in both the technical aspects of the procedure as well as the emotional state of its participants. Rabbi Yerachmiel Kram explains that when Bnei Yisrael approached the cohanim to donate their first korbanos at Sinai – before Matan Torah – their hearts and minds were completely focused on entering into a covenant with Hashem. The Torah institutes this level of devotion as a necessary component of the standard twice-daily offering as well. The fiery enthusiasm that accompanied that first korban is the same excitement that needs to accompany each and every korban tamid offered in the Beis HaMikdash.18 For most people, doing something on a daily basis leads to a feeling of routine.19 Mitzvos that are performed regularly, like the korban tamid, are the most likely to be performed in a mechanical, lifeless manner. While the daily korban tamid routine bolstered our

15 Rashi on Bamidbar 28:6. 16 Chagigah 6b. 17 Rabbi Frand on the Parashah, p. 240. 18 Rabbi Kram, VeSalmudo VeYado, p. 239. 19 See Torah Tapestries, Vayikra, parashas , pp. 37-38. PINCHAS 165 connection to Hashem with a positive, dedicated quality, its repetitiveness necessarily diminished its perceived novelty. Rabbi Yosef Salant explains that this pasuk is teaching us to strive continuously to negate potential degradation of everyday, routine rituals into rote obedience.20 Remembering the excitement of that first korban is meant to inspire us and ignite the emotional com- ponent infused into our avodas Hashem. Bearing in mind that it was the first service in the morning and the last in the evening, each and every korban tamid needed to be brought with the same enthusiasm and passion that accompanied the inaugural korban tamid at Har Sinai. The intensity of human emotions tends to weaken with time unless those feelings are reignited with renewed inspiration. As we might expect, halachah provides the means to accomplish this. Consider the requirement for a person to publicly recite birkas hagomel following a life-threatening experience, a requirement based on perek 107 of Tehillim.21 Such a person initially feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude to Hashem for having been given a new lease on life. In all likelihood, however, the intensity of his appreciation will cool somewhat as he resumes his daily life. What to do? The saved person can preserve the initial impression of his life-saving experience through the public recitation of birkas hagomel. Reciting birkas hagomel serves to both refresh one’s memory and rejuvenate one’s emotional response of gratitude to Hashem. As Rabbi Kram notes,22 perek 107 of Tehillim, on which birkas hagomel is based,

20 As quoted in Rabbi Frand on the Parashah, p. 240, as well as in VeSalmudo VeYado, p. 239. 21 Gemara Berachos 54b. 22 VeSalmudo VeYado, p. 242. 166 TORAH TAPESTRIES concludes with the following poignant verse: “Mi chochom veyishmor eileh (Whoever is wise and guards these things) veyisbonenu chasdei Hashem (they will comprehend the kindnesses of Hashem).”23 Fortunately, most of us have not been in such dire situations. What can we do to arouse our own passion and infuse routine rituals with enthusiasm? How can we make every korban tamid as emotionally powerful as the first korban tamid of Har Sinai? The best prevention against monotony is novelty! As discussed above, newness naturally breeds excitement. Successfully combating our inclination to become apathetic requires establishing techniques of renewal. We must, with great thought and ultimate application, purposefully refresh our emotional resources and channel them into our relationship with Hashem. When donning , an individual recites the verse, “Ve’eirastich li le’olam (I betroth you to me forever).”24 If the act of wrapping tefillin straps demonstrates a loving commitment to Hashem, why does its accompanying pasuk use the verb for betrothal rather than marriage? Isn’t marriage a more permanent relationship than engagement? The answer is that our connection with Hashem needs to be both binding and passionate.25 A certain sparkle in the glances of an engaged couple demonstrates that they are enamored with each other. That unmatched excite- ment comes from the exhilaration of beginning a new life together and a new joint identity. While our commitment to Hashem should compare to marriage, our feelings toward Hashem should emulate the emotional anticipation inherent of the engagement phase.

23 Tehillim 107:43. 24 Hoshea 2:21. 25 VeSalmudo VeYado, p. 243. PINCHAS 167

Practically Speaking: Pause and Ponder Before How can we integrate these abstract concepts into our daily lives? How can we realistically keep the passion alive in our avodas Hashem? With the destruction of the Temple, our Sages instituted morning (Shacharis) and afternoon (Minchah) in place of the daily korban tamid. Therefore, explains Rabbi Kram, in the absence of korbanos, the lessons of the korban tamid apply to our tefillos.26 Steadfastness and passion, the two central qualities that character- ize the korban tamid, must be manifest in our daily prayers as well. Just as each daily offering needed to elicit the same emotion- ality as the first korban tamid brought at Sinai, our daily prayers should similarly be perceived as new and exciting. At first glance, this seems like an overwhelming premise. How can we be innova- tive with our tefillos when the Sages have standardized the word- ing? Rabbi Kram suggests that an individual contemplate the actual meaning of the liturgy. Each time he davens, he can discover a new layer of intellectual understanding and find something that speaks to his heart at that particular time. Each day presents different personal and national circumstances. A person should therefore look at his with new eyes and articulate the words with comprehension and meaning. Regularly uncovering new insights into the words of the davening is, in and of itself, a con- stant avodah, an ongoing process of renewal – as steady as the korban tamid. In addition to understanding the words of the tefillah, it is crit- ical to take time to focus our thoughts before we even begin to pray. Consider the following modern analogy: An individual

26 ibid., p. 240. 168 TORAH TAPESTRIES purchases a brand-new car, the latest model that boasts the keyless ignition feature. The driver need only have the remote in his pocket and then push a button to start. The driver sits down to start the car for the first time, but when he pushes the button, the car doesn’t start! He checks that everything is in place, that the remote is in his pocket – and still nothing. What could be wrong? The car won’t start unless the driver’s foot is on the brake. The deeper message applies to tefillah – you need to actually stop before you can start! For many of us, the davening routine has become so mechan- ical that the excitement is gone and the kavanah has all but van- ished. If we remember, however, to put our foot on the brake before we try to drive – to pause before we pray – we give our- selves the opportunity to refresh our memory: To whom am I davening? For what am I grateful? The pause need only be a few seconds long, but it is utterly critical if we want to make the all- important spiritual connection to Hashem. Certain tefillos and berachos are more conducive to “stopping for kavanah”. How we recite a particular berachah is usually influ- enced by how often we recite it. Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Lugasi visualizes our tefillos as ascending to Shamayim in “packages.”27 By the end of our lives, we have recited myriads of berachos. Imagine the massive accumulation of packages! One package, smaller than the others, would contain the highest quality merchandise – the once-a-year berachos, like those recited on matzah and on the . The remaining mound of larger packages, however, may contain somewhat defective merchandise due to our having used defective packing material – that is, a lack of kavanah. Inside those packages are the daily, multiple-times-per-day kind of berachos, thousands of shehakols and asher yatzars! While the berachos are great

27 Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Lugasi, BeRumo Shel Olam, p. 240. PINCHAS 169 in quantity, all too often they are disappointing in quality. Unfor- tunately, inferior kavanah has depreciated their value. How do we fight against our natural tendency to allow every- day religious acts, such as our daily berachos, to deteriorate into rote recitation? Consider the actual difference in seconds between a berachah said aloud with concentration (kavanah) and a berachah mumbled quickly under the breath. If one were to use a stop- watch, he would find that it is a difference of a few seconds. Let us find a way to offer those few precious seconds to Hashem! To get started, think small. Focus on one berachah. Al netilas yadayim might be a good beginning choice. It’s the very first “Boruch atah Hashem” of the day and it’s part of a ritual taharah (cleansing) act. Once you’ve poured water over your hands, say aloud, articulating each word: “Baruch atah Hashem, Elokeinu Melech Ha’olam, asher kidshanu bemitvosav vetzivanu al netilas yadayim.” Imagine how mean- ingful this berachah suddenly becomes! Wow! Good morning God! Now I’m ready to begin my avodas Hashem! Imagine, via this berachah with kavanah, you’ve instantly established a closer connec- tion to Hashem!

Humility Ability Thus far, we have noted that the mention of Har Sinai under- scores the newness and enthusiasm essential for offering the korban tamid. Another key insight from the Har Sinai connection that is mandatory for the korban tamid is the middah of anivus (humility). The name “Har Sinai” itself is associated with humility. The famous midrash relates that several mountains were “quarrel- ing” over the right to become the site of Matan Torah.28 Har Sinai

28 Sotah 5. 170 TORAH TAPESTRIES was chosen due to its physically low stature, which represents humility. Therefore, both our behavior as well as the motivations underlying our behavior must be couched for the middah of anivus. Furthermore, humility was a critical factor in Matan Torah ex- tending far beyond the humbleness of its venue. The Gemara describes that when Hashem spoke to Bnei Yisrael at Har Sinai, “paskah zuhamasan.”29 The accepted translation of this expression is “they were cleansed of filth” – that is, spiritual filth. Rabbi Moshe Yechiel Epstein explains that at Har Sinai, negative charac- ter traits were removed from the Jewish People.30 In preparation for receiving the Torah, the Jewish People purified themselves of a spiritual blemish: the negative trait of ga’avah (haughtiness). Rabbi Epstein specifically states that “the fencing-off” of Har Sinai 31 was designed to teach us humility. Every person must know his “place” and realize that he has not yet begun to “ap- proach” where he should be spiritually. The Jewish People could reach the level of na’aseh venishma – the ability to accept the Torah absolutely and unconditionally – only by mitigating their ga’avah with anivus. Humility is an essential ingredient in all korbanos and all forms of avodas Hashem. Without capitulation of the ego, rituals could easily become self-serving instead of Hashem-serving.32 One of the seemingly mundane details regarding the korbanos is that all forms of leavening are forbidden to be included in the korbanos.33 The Sefer HaChinuch explains that leavening represents haughti- ness. Leavening is the process that causes dough to rise and

29 Shabbos 146a. 30 Rabbi Moshe Yechiel Epstein, Be’er Moshe, p. 669. 31 As described in Shemos 19:12. 32 See the chapter on for a more in-depth discussion on this concept. 33 Vayikra 2:11. PINCHAS 171 expand. When bringing an offering, we should not be puffed up or “leavened,” figuratively speaking. Rather, we should recognize a korban as an opportunity to grow close to the Master of All, to admit our own shortcomings, and to strive to improve ourselves. If one is full of himself, he has no room for Hashem. This phenomenon is described in the pasuk, “Lest your heart grows haughty and you forget the L-rd your God.”34 Hashem despises the middah of ga’avah. “To’avas Hashem kol gevah lev (Every haughty heart is abominable to Hashem).”35 By contrast, korbanos per- formed with humility provide a rei’ach nicho’ach isheh LaHashem – a “pleasing aroma” or a sense of satisfaction to Hashem. The character trait of anivus is associated with the korban tamid specifically because it was one of the olos (elevation offerings). A korban olah was burned in its entirety on the altar. Unlike other kinds of korbanos, elevation offerings did not include a designated portion for the donor or the cohanim to consume. The korban tamid therefore strongly exemplifies the quality of humility because by comparison it was a grander act of self-sacrifice than other offerings. By defini- tion, the giver’s motivations had to be altruistic because he derived absolutely no physical benefit from the korban. The essence of the korban tamid is predicated on the complete surrender of one’s ego. The Midrash relates that Hashem instituted the korban tamid on the day that Avraham was prepared to offer Yitzchak as a sacrifice.36 The simple interpretation of the midrash is that in response to Avraham and Yitzchak’s devotion, the korban tamid was instituted to parallel the prayers they each established: morn- ing (Shacharis) and afternoon (Minchah).37 But perhaps this midrash

34 Devarim 8:14. 35 Mishlei 16:5. 36 Vayikra Rabbah 82. 37 Berachos 26b. 172 TORAH TAPESTRIES is actually conveying a more powerful message. The extraordinary and complete submission to God’s will that is evident in the akeidah is eternally manifested in the korban tamid. Rabbi Epstein quotes a compelling statement from the sefer Boneh Olam: “Mesirus haratzon kemesirus nefesh” – relinquishing one’s personal will to Hashem is comparable to relinquishing one’s life.38 Furthermore, Hashem established the korban tamid as a spir- itual reward. Rabbi Pinchos Roberts explains that since Avraham and Yitzchak were ready to make the supreme sacrifice for God, in return, Hashem granted the Jewish People regular opportunities to come closer to Him by offering the korban tamid.39 While we can see how the two offerings of korban tamid correspond to Avraham and Yitzchak, one point remains unexplained. Why is the korban tamid offered at different times of the day? Avraham and Yitzchak were equally involved in the Akeidah; wouldn’t the korban tamid symbolism be more accurate as a double offering brought simul- taneously? Rabbi Roberts quotes the Reisher Rav (Rabbi Levin), who explains that Avraham and Yitzchak participated in the Akeidah at different stages of their lives. Avraham displayed his self-sacrifice at an advanced age, when he had already acquired great wisdom. Yitzchak’s mesirus nefesh, however, was inspired by the fiery enthusiasm that characterizes youth. The Akeidah represents our mission to serve Hashem selfless- ly at all stages of life. Advanced age and childhood both have benefits and drawbacks. Older people possess the wisdom and refined judgment that are gained by experience. At the same time, however, the aged often lack the physical strength to be involved in creative undertakings. Furthermore, older people tend to be rigid in their habits and less receptive to change. In contrast, while

38 Be’er Moshe, p. 669. 39 Rabbi Pinchos Roberts, Through the Prism of Torah, pp. 204-205. PINCHAS 173 the natural ambition and idealism of young people are admirable, such characteristics are often accompanied by immaturity and naivety. We should capitalize on the assets of both phases of life and apply them to our avodas Hashem. Our korban must be offered tamid (on a regular basis) – when the sun is rising (in our youth) and when the sun is setting (in our old age). Avraham was able to combine the wisdom of age with the alacrity of youth when he got up early to sacrifice Yitzchak (corresponding to Shacharis, the morning prayer). Yitzchak, despite his comparative youth, exhibit- ed the gravitas of old age in originating Minchah, the afternoon prayer, symbolizing the setting of the sun. The expression “mesirus nefesh” (relinquishing one’s life) has become part of our daily vernacular, perhaps to the point of sounding hyperbolic and out of place. What does it really mean? Sacrificing one’s life for God seems to be a counterintuitive concept in , which places the highest value on human life. Mesirus nefesh is a very challenging concept to grasp. How do we apply the notion of self-sacrifice in meaningful and practical terms? Rabbi Shimshon Pincus explains how mesirus nefesh ap- plies to our daily lives.40 As discussed, humility is the submission of the ego to Hashem’s will. In truth, the surrender of our selfish desires is a form of mesirus nefesh. Using the example of shemiras halashon, a high-priority , Rabbi Pincus clarifies the reason why we feel such a strong desire to misuse the power of speech. Our human ability to speak (medaber) distinguishes us from lower forms of creation. It is indicative of our great and exalted potential – and that’s where ego comes in. The ego fuels a strong desire to feel alive; we want to be fully human through being a medaber!41

40 Rabbi Shimshon David Pincus, Tiferes Shimshon, pp. 322-323. 41 See chapter on Mattos. 174 TORAH TAPESTRIES

That is precisely where the yetzer hara comes to tempt us to misuse our great potential. When we fight the instinctive drive to misuse our speech, we submit our egos to Hashem’s will. Performing the mitzvos of shemiras halashon necessarily involves a level of mesirus nefesh. How so? Do we really die for this cause? Fighting that instinctive drive to be human is indeed a kind of death! Mesirus nefesh is changing our essence by sacrificing the ego. Taking this point a step further, avoiding lashon hara some- times makes a person feel socially awkward. Imagine a group of people having a conversation laden with forbidden gossip, and one individual suddenly changes the subject. Or perhaps one intentionally isolates himself from a particular discussion, poten- tially running the risk of losing acceptance by peers or colleagues. A silent response for the sake of shemiras halashon overtly demon- strates a willingness to appear less witty or less intelligent for the sake of the Torah. Exhibiting a readiness to be socially ostracized for the sake of Hashem certainly falls into the category of true mesirus nefesh. Most certainly, mesirus nefesh is within our grasp. It is up to us to demonstrate our humility ability.

Devotion with Emotion In addition to anivus and mesirus nefesh, unconditional com- mitment as a Jewish trait emerged from the inauguration of the korban tamid as part of the Har Sinai experience. Before receiving the Torah, Bnei Yisrael subjected themselves to both stringent physical cleansing42 and intensive spiritual preparation. Their eager involvement in this rigorous process demonstrated their willing-

42 See Shemos 19:14-15. PINCHAS 175 ness to devote themselves to Hashem. Rabbi Moshe Sternbuch explains that the allusion to Har Sinai is designed to inspire us to demonstrate the same total devotion to Hashem that Bnei Yisrael displayed at Har Sinai – before, during, and after Matan Torah.43 The phrase “Har Sinai” should motivate us to purify ourselves spiritually and to commit ourselves to Hashem with the same whole-hearted devotion of the declaration: “Na’aseh venishma!” The korban tamid and Har Sinai associations suggest a level of absolute devotion to Hashem that is unique to the Jewish nation. It is this steadfast relationship with God that distinguishes us from other nations. Rabbi Moshe Reiss points out that the gentile nations’ relationship with Hashem fluctuates.44 As we learned earlier, Hashem appeared to Bilaam with the word “vayikar” because it was a temporary Divine revelation. Bilaam’s interactions with God were directed solely by selfish motivations because he had a ru’ach gevohah (haughty spirit).45 As a result, whatever rela- tionship he had with Hashem was a circumstantial one. The Jewish People, in contrast, are characterized by their ab- solute and selfless devotion to Hashem. Our relationship with Hashem is neither circumstantial nor fluctuating; it is based on the desire to do His will, rather than a desire to “cajole” Him into doing our will. Our role model is Moshe Rabbeinu, whom the Torah describes as “the most humble person on the face of the earth.”46 Moshe could speak with Hashem anytime, face to face, which meant that Moshe was “on call” to do the will of Hashem at all times and in all places – unlike his polar opposite, Bilaam. There was nothing coincidental about his relationship with

43 Rabbi Moshe Sternbuch, Ta’am VaDa’as, p. 150. 44 Rabbi Moshe Reiss, Pa’amei Mo’ed, pp. 394-395. 45 Pirkei Avos 5:22. 46 Shemos 12:3. 176 TORAH TAPESTRIES

Hashem! Our commitment to Hashem has the same steadfast quality as the korban tamid. This loyal, established relationship with Hashem protected the Jewish nation from Bilaam’s curses, and it continues to protect us from all our enemies throughout history.47 Just as our dedication and connection to Hashem fortifies us against our enemies, our failure to nurture that bond makes us vulnerable to attack. This direct correlation between the strength of our devotion and Hashem’s Divine protection explains why we read about the korban tamid in the season of the Three Weeks. As mentioned above, the korban tamid was suspended in the first Beis HaMikdash on the Seventeenth of Tammuz.48 Sadly however this is only one of the five tragedies that occurred specifically on that day. Moshe descended from Har Sinai on that day and the first luchos were broken. Preceding the destruction of the second Beis HaMikdash, the walls of were breached on the Seven- teenth of Tammuz. In addition, the evil leader, Apostomos, burned the Torah and an idol was erected in the Beis HaMikdash on this day. What do these five calamities have in common? How do these events, all of which occurred on the Seventeenth of Tammuz, relate to what we have learned about the korban tamid? The laws of the Seventeenth of Tammuz were not instituted merely to commemorate five historical events. Rabbi Reiss emphasizes the spiritual goal of fasting in general.49 He quotes the Rambam, who explains that the purpose of fasting is to inspire repentance. The physical pangs of hunger should stimulate a parallel emotional reaction, and a spiritual longing to rededicate oneself to Hashem. On the anniversary of these occurrences,

47 This is discussed at length in the chapter on Balak. 48 Mishnah Ta’anis 26:2. 49 Pa’amei Mo’ed, p. 394-395 PINCHAS 177 we are obligated to both remember the tragedies and contemplate the transgressions of our ancestors that caused them to take place. Unfortunately, the ancestral errors are not just painful memo- ries of the past. We are still making these mistakes today! “A generation in which the Temple is not built is considered to be one in which it was destroyed.”50 If we fail to rebuild the Beis HaMikdash in our times, it means that we have neglected to correct the that caused its destruction. Recognizing that the korban tamid represents halchamah (soldering), the inseparable connection between us and Hashem, the suspension of the korban tamid symbolizes that we are being distanced from Hashem. All of the tragedies of the Seventeenth of Tammuz are, in fact, overt manifestations of our Divine bond being severed. All of these incidences were preceded by broken promises and disloyal behavior on the part of the Jewish People. The Torah, as symbolized by the luchos, is our written “marriage contract,” the sign of our covenant with Hashem. The first luchos were broken and the Torah was burned because we failed to live up to our naa’seh venishma commitment. Idol worship represents our religious infidelity, our betrayal of Hashem’s trust. The fact that an idol was brought into the Beis HaMikdash demonstrates that the Jewish People’s loyalty to Hashem had been compromised. By neglecting to sustain our selfless devotion to Hashem, we continue to allow the walls of Jerusalem to be breached, and we continue to tear down our own walls of protection. How can the lessons of the korban tamid and Seventeenth of Tammuz inspire us to renew our devotion? On the one hand, we should reflect on the tragedies of Seventeenth of Tammuz and recognize the Divine connection that we lost. Especially in the

50 Yerushalmi, Yoma 1:1. 178 TORAH TAPESTRIES summer months, when our routines tend to become more lax, let us find ways to refocus and rededicate ourselves to avodas Hashem. Our tefillos need to be both as unwavering and passionate as the korban tamid of Har Sinai. Remember that our prayers are our spiritual sustenance because they are lachmi. Just like halchamah solders two pieces of metal inseparably, so too our tefillos bind us to Hashem. Re-forging the once solid connection to Hashem, the likes of which existed at Har Sinai, is our only protection from our enemies – those from within and those from without. When all is said and done, however, we must not despair. The Seventeenth of Tammuz is a season to anticipate the redemption. Rabbi Moshe Wolfson highlights that Ruth and Boaz were married on this date and Oved was conceived.51 Oved was the ancestor of David HaMelech; thus, the seeds of Mashiach were planted on this day. Reading about the korban tamid should inspire our optimistic vision that soon, if we rededicate ourselves to Hashem, the Beis HaMikdash and all its rituals will return. Rabbi Wolfson notes that the word “tamid” is found 17 times in parashas Pinchas. This hints to us that although the korban tamid ceased on the seventeenth, there will ultimately come a time when, perhaps on the seventeenth, it will be brought back to us. Although we as humans have the tendency to forget, Hashem always remembers. Hashem is tamid. He is always waiting for us to return.

51 Rabbi Moshe Wolfson, Emunas Ittecha, p. 164.