BS"D
PONDERING PERPETUITY: PARSHAT PINCHAS
Shira Smiles shiur 2017/5777
Summary by Channie Koplowitz Stein
This is the last devar torah for a few weeks. Thank you
for reading.
As Bnei Yisroel are about to enter the Promised Land, the time to apportion the
land to the various tribes and families arrives. The land is to be
"divided as an inheritance according to the names of their father's
tribes... according to the lot..." One family is concerned about this
division. These are five sisters, daughter of a man named Tzelaphchad. They are
his only children. Having no brothers, they protest to Moshe that the portion
meant for their father will be lost to their family and tribe, since the
lottery would include only the names of the men. Indeed, they have a valid
point, and Hashem teaches Moshe the laws of inheritance that are then recorded
in the Torah and become known as the laws of the Daughters of Tzelaphchad.
It is an amazing privilege to have one's name inscribed so profoundly in
the Torah, notes the Sifsei Chaim. How did these women merit such an
honor? Why are they considered wise and righteous? And if the land was to be
apportioned by Divine inspiration, adds the Dorash David, how could
these women appear to challenge the process and ask for an inheritance in the
land?
First Rabbi Frand points out that the women of that generation (and often in
general) had more faith and love of the land than their male counterparts. They
did not give their gold and silver for the golden calf, nor did they request
spies to reconnoiter the land in order to move forward into the land. While the
men wept at the spies' report, the women did not. Therefore, only the men died
in the desert. The daughters of Tzelophchad were a product of that generation.
The daughters here had a valid argument. According to the laws of yibum/levirate
marriage, a woman whose husband dies leaving her childless, is required to
marry her husband's brother (or closest male relative) to perpetuate her
husband's name. The sisters therefore first asked if their mother was required
to be a yibum wife to perpetuate their father's name. Since girls were
considered legitimate offspring for these laws, their mother was absolved of
requiring a levirate marriage. Should they not also then be considered
legitimate offspring to inherit their father's portion of the land?
Rabbi Friedlander z”l, the Sifsei Chaim, points out that although the
request may have been technically and superficially about land, their request
was much deeper. It wasn't just the land that these women wanted, but rather a
way of perpetuating their father's legacy, their father's path in life and his
service to God. Their goal was similar to the goal of yibum, and
therefore they came forward when the laws of yibum were being discussed.
This explains why they did not marry for the entire time they were in the
desert, because they were unclear whether their mission was to continue their
father's legacy or to become the helpmeet of a husband in his legacy. The land
was to be apportioned not only according to population density, but also
according to each tribe's mission, according to the prophecy and blessing of
Yaakov Avinu. Thus, for example Zevulun, destined to be a merchant, would have
land along the seashore, and Asher would get fertile lands that could feed
kings. These daughters' pure intention was to fulfill their father's mission as
a son would have done. Therefore, this chapter is referred to in their name.
In a fascinating discussion in Letitcha Elyon, Rabbi Wolfson brings
these themes together through the story of Ruth. First he presents the
Kabbalistic concept that everything exists in the three modalities signified by
the acronym OShoN/smoke (as the smoke rises from
earth toward heaven). O stands for Olam/world/place/space.
Then there is Shanah/year/time. Finally, it exists as a
living entity, a Nefesh. Ruth unites these concepts as the
theme of a levirate marriage plays out in the Megillah. Ruth returns with Naomi
to Beit Lechem (place), the ancestral home of her dead husband. She wants to
perpetuate the legacy of her husband through the levirate marriage. Mr. Ploni,
the original "shidduch", is interested in the land, but not in
perpetuating the legacy of the deceased. Boaz accepts both, and brings Ruth's
neshamah back "home" into the fold of Bnei Yisroel. Boaz is Ruth's
true husband. The marriage takes place in Beit Lechem on the 17th of Tammuz.
Both the fields and the legacy return to their ancestral birthright as the
jubilee year signifies.
Both the date/time and the place are significant in our discussion. The 17th of
Tammuz. was the date we were originally meant to receive the Luchot, the
Tablets of the Law. It was meant to be a great holiday and will again, in the
future, be a great holiday when the relationship between Bnei Yisroel and
Hashem is fully repaired and Moshiach comes. But the relationship was severed
when Bnei Yisroel made the golden calf and Moshe smashed those Luchot. Ruth is
instrumental in that repair as her descendent, Moshiach ben David will complete
the process.
Beit Lechem is equally significant. It is at the crossroads of Beit Lechem that
our Matriarch Rachel lies buried. As Bnei Yisroel was being led into exile and
stopped to weep at her grave, her neshamah wept before Hakodosh Boruch Hu. It
is to her that the Prophet Jeremiah relays God's promise that her children will
return to their ancestral home, the lands that are here, in our parsha, being
allocated to the tribes. The final verses of the Megillah trace the
Judaic dynasty not only down to David but also back to Peretz, because Ruth,
like the daughters of Tzelaphchad, understood the importance of preserving the
family legacy and memory of loved ones.
We are all familiar with the phrase, "May the Neshamah have an
Aliyah," actually the title of a book by Rabbi Tzvi Hebel. We know that a
human being creates merits for himself by doing mitzvoth during his life.
However, how can merits be created for the deceased after his death? Rabbi
Hebel notes that the mitzvoth of one's offspring, of the "legs" he
created, elevate a person's soul after his death. Rabbi Hebel notes the
difference between men and angels. People during their lives are called "mehalchim/walkers"
while angels are called "omdim/those who stand still". A
person who certainly begins life on a level lower than an angel's can rise higher
than an angel through his walk through his life and the actions he does. But
once he dies, he can no longer move and ascend. He no longer has functioning
legs. But his children become his legs and can continue to bring merit and
elevate his soul through their Torah and good deeds. Indeed, not just children,
but friends and relatives as well can elevate the neshamah of a deceased loved
one by designating their learning and mitzvoth for the benefit of the neshamah
of the deceased.
Perhaps that is one reason that the Torah often makes a point of tracing the
genealogy of the persona within the narrative. But genealogy runs both ways,
down to descendents and up to ancestors. Rabbi Gamliel HaCohen Rabinovits
explores this idea in Tiv Hatorah by noting that the genealogy of Bnot
Tzelaphchad is recorded back to Menashe and then repeated to Menashe the
son of Yoseph. Why, asks Rabbi Rabinovitz, do we need to emphasize that this
was Menashe the son of Yoseph? Because the legacy of Yoseph is now being manifested
in his descendants, Bnot Tzelaphchad. Just as Yoseph proved his love of
Eretz Yisroel by requesting that his bones be brought to Eretz Yisroel for
burial, so too did these women show their love of the land by requesting an
inheritance in it. Each of us is both a recipient of the legacy and a link to
carry it forward.
[Rashi cites Shmuel in explaining the sin that brought about Tzelaphchad's
death. He claims that when the spies came back with their negative report and
Hashem decreed that this generation would not enter the land, Tzelaphcad and a
group of men ascended the mountain in their desire to enter the land. Although
they loved the land, they disobeyed God's decree, Hashem was not with them, and
they died at the hands of the enemy. According to this interpretation, the love
of the land was transmitted to them not only across seven generations, but
directly from their father as well. CKS]
In contrast, Rabbi Grosbard z”l notes the legacy of Reuven, whose descendants
received their land on the other side of the Jordan River, outside Eretz
Yisroel proper. Reuven went out at the time of the harvest and gathered some
mandrakes which he brought to his mother Leah. Rabbi Grosbard z”l notes that
while Reuven certainly gathered these flowers in ownerless property, he was
still interested in getting more that he had in his own home. This interest in
possessions now reappeared in his descendants as a desire and request for large
spaces of pasture for their flocks rather than in the sacredness of the land.
From the time Hashem promised Avraham Avinu this land, every Jew must feel a
connection to Eretz Yisroel, must feel as if this is where he's from. Rabbi
Zalman Sorotzkin z”l in Oznayim Latorah notes that while Yoseph merited
being buried in Eretz Yisroel, Moshe Rabbenu did not. Why? Yoseph always
identified himself with the land saying he was stolen from the Land of the
Hebrews. In contrast, Moshe was called an Egyptian, yet he never corrected that
designation to say he was a Hebrew. Moshe's burial outside Eretz Yisroel is a
consequence of his silence rather than a punishment.
Bnot Tzelaphchad also had this deep connection to Eretz Yisroel, more
like Yoseph than like Menashe. Rabbi Druck, citing the Chasam Sofer, explains
that if all they wanted was land, they would have been satisfied with land on
the other side of the Jordan River where half their tribe settled.(But it must
be noted that Moshe assigned them this land without their requesting it in
contrast to Reuven and Gad. Perhaps, as some commentators note, Moshe wanted
Yoseph/Menashe's love of the land and connection to the rest of the people to
rub off on the tribes of Reuven and Gad. CKS)
We often speak of chibat ha Aretz/"love" of the Land, the
terminology of Rashi in characterizing Bnot Tzelaphchad. Rabbi Kofman
z”l notes a difference in meaning between ahavah and chibah, both
generally translated as "love". He notes that ahavah is self -
centered, I "love" fish, so I eat a lot of it, I "love"
money because I can buy so much for myself with it. In contrast, "chibah"
is to hold something dear for its own sake, to treasure and cherish it. Bnot
Tzelaphchad exhibited chibat haaretz, not ahavat haaretz. As
Rabbi Scheinerman notes, when we appreciate the importance of something, it
takes on value. Bnot Tzelaphchad appreciated the value of Eretz Yisroel
and the mitzvoth associated with it. One of the reasons Yerushalayim was
destroyed, continues Rabbi Scheinerman, was because we didn't appreciate the value
of Eretz Yisroel.
When one truly loves something, one wants to have a personal stake and
ownership in it, writes Rabbi Moshe Feinstein zt"l. That's why Bnot
Tzelafchad would not be content to just enter the land and have access to
it. That's why we are each commanded to write our personal Sefer Torah, and why
it's important to own one's seforim, not always borrowing them. Rabbetzin
Smiles comments that she has a true "living room", for it is filled
with seforim of the "Living Torah".
If this is the case, asks Rabbi Feinstein zt’l, and Bnot Tzelafchad
cherished the Land so highly, why does the Torah find it necessary to link this
love to their ancestor Yoseph? Here Rabbi Feinstein zt’l makes an interesting
distinction in the sense of accomplishment one achieves when he does something
under his own initiative and when he is trying to emulate someone else. When
one does something on his own, he is proud of his achievement. However, when he
is performing the action for someone else, merely doing the action is expected.
Only keeping himself to a higher standard is worthy of a sense of
accomplishment. Bnot Tzelafchad were holding themselves to the standard
demonstrated by their ancestor Yoseph, and that's why the Torah specifically
traces their lineage back to him.
So, was the land divided according to the families and number of men leaving
Egypt, or was it being divided according to the current census? Rav Dovid
Hofstedter tries to unravel this conundrum by incorporating some of our
previous ideas. It is true that that the original generation leaving Egypt were
destined to inherit the land. But Hashem wants people to merit rewards through
their own efforts. Just as all Israel has a portion in the World to Come, that
portion remains in potential until the person earns his portion through his
actions. But his mitzvah performance additionally brings merit to the neshamot
of his deceased parents. Similarly, the current generation were the ones who
would be putting in the effort to capture the land and settle it. Their effort
earned them the right to inherit the land. Nevertheless, their actions also
reflect back to their parents who have now "inherited" their portion
of Eretz Yisroel through their children.
This, however, presented a problem for Bnot Tzelafchad. They were not
men and would therefore not merit be inheriting the land through being soldiers
in battle. They needed a merit of their own. They fought for their right to the
land verbally, through prayer and through their challenging (albeit
respectfully) Moshe with their question. Through their effort and prayer, they
changed the decree and merited inheriting their father's portion in the land.
We all need to make ourselves worthy of receiving Hashem's blessings. We must
expend our efforts and create "vessels" for these blessings,
continues Rabbi Hofstedter. Tanach records a striking example of this thesis.
The poor wife of Ovadiah gathered as many jugs as she could find and borrow
that could be filled with oil. Elisha kept pouring the oil from its small,
limited jug until all the jars were filled. When no jugs remained to be filled,
the blessing of the oil ceased.
The three weeks which are now upon us is a time of teshuvah, a time to make
ourselves proper vessels to receive Hashem's blessings. How can we ponder
perpetuity? How can we draw upon the legacy of our ancestors and work to ensure
that that legacy gets transmitted to our future generations? This chapter of
the Daughters of Tzelafchad helps us appreciate our legacy and understand our
responsibility.