The WebYeshiva Blog

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin

We’re All Connected

When all the Mishkan components were finally completed, Moshe felt it necessary to do an inventory of all the materials that were used. After all, Bnei Israel had donated mightily to this project, and Moshe wished to reassure the people that their donations were used properly, and that nothing had been pocketed by himself, the contractors, or the builders for personal gain. Our Sages teach us that even someone who is normally above reproach must make every effort to exonerate oneself in the eyes of the public. One example can be found in Tractate Shekalim (3:2), where it is recorded that the Kohen in charge of extracting coins from the Temple treasury to purchase animals for the Altar could not have any hems in his garment to ensure that no one could suspect him of secretly placing coins in the hem and embezzling Temple funds! This is based on the scriptural dictum (Num. 32:22): “You shall be clean from both Hashem and Israel,” meaning: that it’s not enough to know that you are innocent; you must also exonerate yourself in the public eye.

Moshe's inventory and corruption

The Midrash relates that after Moshe finished his inventory, he actually came up short. He could not account for 1,775 shekels worth of silver. He became quite nervous, because he knew that some people looked at him cynically, thinking that there was no way that Moshe would be able to resist the temptation of pocketing some of the donations for himself. Hashem Himself had to intervene and caused Moshe to lift his gaze up to the silver hooks – called “vavim” in Hebrew – that were used to link together the curtains of the Mishkan. Because of their small size, Moshe had completely forgotten to include them in the inventory, and these hooks accounted for the deficit. The Jewish people were thus appeased and their suspicions allayed. I recently discovered an addendum to this Midrash which is cited in some medieval sources. After Moshe had gone through this nerve-racking ordeal, he instituted the prayer, “Emes V’Yatziv,” which we recite every morning after the Shema in our daily Shacharis service. After we recite the word “Emes” (“Truth”) at the end of the Shema, we append to it these fifteen words:

וְיַצִּיב וְנָכוֹן וְקַיָּם וְיָשָׁר וְנֶאֱמָן וְאָהוּב וְחָבִיב וְנֶחְמָד וְנָעִים וְנוֹרָא וְאַדִּיר וּמְתֻקָּן וּמְקֻבָּל וְטוֹב וְיָפֶה הַדָּבָר הַזֶּה עָלֵינוּ לְעוֹלָם וָעֶד

—and firm, and certain, and enduring, and upright, and faithful, and beloved, and cherished, and desired, and pleasant, and awesome, and mighty, and correct, and acceptable, and good, and beautiful [is this Shema affirmation to us for all eternity.]

15 "vavs" that connect us all

Ra’avan HaYarchi (12th cent.) writes in his Sefer HaManhig that Moshe instituted these fifteen words, all relating to the truth and integrity of the words of the Shema. He made sure to have each word start with the letter “vav” – translated as “and” – in order to remind us of the fifteen “vav” hooks that Moshe found and which resolved the accounting deficit. The imagery of this Midrash is quite specific, in that Moshe had lost track of the “vavim,” the hooks. Why was this the particular inventory item that he had forgotten? Furthermore, it seems like it’s merely a play on words that “hooks” and the preposition “and” share the same “vav” in Hebrew. What’s the connection? Finally, why was the prayer of Emes V’Yatziv, which is an affirmation of our belief in G-d as expressed in the Shema paragraphs chosen as a reminder of this episode? What is the connection between our affirming the truths of the Shema and reminding us that Moshe was exonerated from suspicion? As many commentaries observe, it’s not a coincidence that a hook and the word “and” are both represented by the letter “vav” in Hebrew. The role of the hooks in the Mishkan was to unify and unite all the disparate curtains into one unified wall hanging in the Mishkan. We “hook” things together in order to unite them, and the letter “vav” serves the same function, which is to append one idea to another linguistically.

A full accounting

Why was Moshe so concerned about making sure that the inventory was correct? According to the Midrash he had heard certain cynical voices within the community who were critical of him and who didn’t trust him. Moshe’s mistake was not seeing the entire community, but rather allowing individual cynical voices to drown out the almost unanimous support that he had garnered as the people’s faithful redeemer and leader. By allowing Moshe to find the hooks, Hashem was teaching a lesson to Moshe, that it’s usually the outliers and those who view themselves as separate from the community who are the ones who are the cynics and naysayers. Moshe, you should not heed those voices, but instead look to the fabric which connects Am Yisrael. If you do so, you will see that the people are good and trusting, and that you have no reason to fear suspicion. When looked at in this light, Moshe was really the guilty party in thinking that his beloved people were cynical and mistrusting of him. Yes, there were individual voices, but he should not have vested so much weight in those cantankerous voices and should have instead seen the loving faces of the vast majority of the nation. As a way of making amends for his mistake, Moshe instituted the Emes V’Yatziv prayer not to remind Am Yisrael of HIS honesty, but to remind Am Yisrael that Moshe was mistaken about the nation’s cynicism and mistrust. My people, he was saying, you are an accepting and loving people, filled with trust and honesty of those who lead you. To prove my point, I will institute a prayer that you will say daily affirming your acceptance of the precepts of the Torah and your unequivocal trust in Hashem and His Torah. By doing so, Moshe was restoring Bnei Israel’s faith in themselves. Emes V’Yatziv is an affirmation of OUR faith and innocent acceptance of our Torah and our Torah teachers.

Combating cynicism's ugly truth

It is so difficult these days to rise above the cynicism and unadulterated lashon hara that pervades the media. I think that one of the lessons of this Midrash is that when we feel separate from others, we become cynical and mistrusting of everyone else. When we view ourselves as part of a larger group, we become more accepting of others, and the individual cynical voices are drowned out by our realization that we are part of a larger collective that is loving and accepting. Perhaps Moshe felt more mistrusted specifically because he was the leader of Israel, which perforce made him feel somewhat separate from the collective. We all, from time to time, give in to the cynical voices in our head. We allow ourselves to think the worst of our fellow man and our fellow Jew. But in reality, we’re just allowing ourselves to see the ugly outliers and we fail to see the beauty of the vav’s of the collective Am Israel who, as a whole, are beautiful, faithful, and trustworthy. When we forget the vav’s, the glue that connects us all, we allow the ugly voices to take over. Especially in a world of social media where people relate to each other from a distance without really knowing who our “friends” are, it’s easy to lose sight of the vav’s that connect us, and to see the worst in humanity emerge. Let’s try to reunite with each other in society, so that we can put aside those cynical voices and start to see the “Emes V’Yatziv” that is within each and every one of us. May our faith in humanity bring us to a greater faith in Hashem, and may this bring us to the ultimate Redemption, may we see it, bb”a.

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin

Moshe petitions God

In his Guide for the Perplexed (1:54), the Rambam discusses an important dialogue between Moshe and Hashem in the aftermath of the Golden Calf. As the people sinned, Hashem informed Moshe that He was going to annihilate them. Moshe prayed to Hashem to spare them, and his prayers were answered (32:14). Nonetheless, Hashem informed Moshe that there would be lasting repercussions of their sin, and that through their sin, some kind of distance had been created between G-d and Israel. Moshe, noting that he was appointed to be the leader of Israel, then made two petitions of Hashem. The first was (33:13):

ועתה אם־נא מצאתי חן בעיניך הודעני נא את־דרכך ואדעך למען אמצא־חן בעיניך וראה כי עמך הגוי הזה

If I have found favor in Your eyes, show me now Your ways, so that I might know You and further find favor in Your eyes. See that these people are Your nation. What does it mean to be “shown the ways of G-d”? Furthermore, why did Moshe tell Hashem at the end of his request to “see that these people are Your nation” – what does this have to do with Moshe being shown Hashem’s ways?

Petition #2: Show Your Glory

Before we answer these questions, let’s look at Moshe’s second petition (33:18): “ויאמר הראני נא את־כבדך” – “Moshe said: Now show me Your glory.” What was Moshe asking in this second request? What is the difference between G-d’s “ways” (“דְּרָכֶךָ”) and G-d’s “glory” (“כְּבֹדֶךָ”)? Here is where the Rambam launches into the major thrust of his discussion, explaining how man can never really truly “know” Hashem essentially. The difference between Hashem’s “ways” and His “glory” is that the former means understanding how G-d interacts with the world, while the latter means understanding who Hashem really is innately. To illustrate, I may think that I “know” a public figure based on how he or she interacts with the public, but that may merely be a façade that this person is displaying to the public. I really only know that person’s “ways.” What that person is truly like when they go home and the cameras turn off may be something completely different. Thus, I don’t know that person’s “glory.” Hashem instructed Moshe that it is possible for man to understand how G-d interacts publicly with the world, but it is not possible for man to understand Hashem’s true essence. Man’s intellect simply is not built to process this transcendent information. This is why, when assenting to Moshe’s first request to understand Hashem’s ways, Hashem said (33:19), “אֲנִי אַעֲבִיר כָּל־טוּבִי עַל־פָּנֶיךָ” – “I will pass all my goodness over your face.” “Goodness” is a code word for all of creation, since after creation the Torah records that (Gen. 1:31) “Hashem saw that it was all very good.” Hashem was giving Moshe a glimpse of how He created and maintained all of reality. In this way, Moshe would be able to comprehend how Hashem interacts with all that exists.

The Thirteen Attributes of Mercy

Hashem then taught Moshe the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy (34:6-7), which the Rambam explains as a further lesson of G-d’s “ways.” Hashem was teaching him how not only He interacts with all of creation in general, but specifically how He interacts with his crowning creation, man, and His system reward and punishment when dealing with mankind. In a brief statement, the Rambam explains why Moshe needed to know this information: As their leader, I need to understand the best way to lead Bnei Israel. By learning Your system of tutelage, I can emulate the way You lead, and I will lead Bnei Israel accordingly. This explains why Moshe said at the end of his request, “See that these people are Your nation.” He was presenting to Hashem that his desire to know His ways was not just out of his own curiosity and desire to grow in his knowledge of God, but that there was a real utilitarian benefit in knowing Hashem’s ways to enable him to emulate God in his leadership role. If you wish me to deal properly with Your nation, Hashem, give me the tools that I will need in order to do so.

Why ask God for help in leading now?

What the Rambam doesn’t explicitly address, however, is why Moshe was making this request specifically now, after the Sin of the Golden Calf. Moshe had already been appointed their leader much earlier, and if he truly felt that he needed leadership skills training, why did he wait until now to make this request? One answer might be that after the Golden Calf, Hashem informed Moshe that He would not be as directly involved with the nation as He had been before the Sin. Moshe understood this to mean that Moshe, as the mortal emissary of Hashem, would now have more responsibility in attending to the needs of the people. He specifically needed now to know how to lead, since Hashem was taking a back seat in His leadership role and leaving most of the job to his underling, Moshe. By analogy, it would be like the CEO of the company telling his second in command, the COO (chief operating officer), that he’s taking a leave of absence. This would be the time for the COO to get debriefed by the CEO about how to run the company. But another way of understanding why Moshe put forth his request now is by noting that Moshe was seeing Hashem as a punishing God of His chosen people for the very first time. He realized that although he had seen Hashem act with vengeance against man when He punished the Egyptians, he had not seen Hashem do the same to His beloved nation, the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. This piqued Moshe’s curiosity, because this meant that he, too, when dealing with the Chosen People, could not always be benevolent. Moshe, too, would have to learn when to be cruel and when to be kind.

Learning from Hashem Amidst Crisis

Of particular interest is that sometimes these kinds of opportunities to “know Hashem’s ways” arise specifically amidst crisis and unfortunate events. We know that we gain better understanding of the human condition when we see people immersed in crisis and pain. As the Talmud (TB Eruvin 65b) states, one of the ways of truly getting to know someone is seeing them when they we become upset. Additionally, we have a better opportunity to make sense of Hashem and how He interacts with us when we are presented with crisis and pain. By witnessing Hashem’s mercy even when He presents us with privation and pain, we can learn how to emulate this behavior even when it is necessary to deal harshly with our opponents. As an example: Before Hashem presented us with the pandemic, forcing us to into lockdown, He gave us amazing technologies that could connect every single human being on the planet virtually, and that could create delivery systems to have things appear at our door with the touch of a button. It’s almost as if Hashem’s attitude was: If I need to discipline my children by confining them, let me provide them with a consoling element in their lives that will enable their confinement to be more tolerable. There are so many more examples, but we must first open our eyes if we are to learn. All of us should be turning our eyes to the heavens and asking God, “הוֹדִעֵנִי נָא אֶת־דְּרָכֶךָ” – please show me Your ways, so that I might know how to live a virtuous life that is filled with benevolence and love even amidst adversity. During these weeks before Pesach, our time of Redemption, let us look forward to a new season of liberation and freedom, and let us always try to take the lessons of this past year and apply them judiciously to our lives until the coming of the ultimate Redemption, bb”a.

Remembering the Wine and the Vinegar By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin

Longevity = Positive Attitude

The Midrash records some thing very strange. When the Jewish people first heard the commandment of (Deut. 25:17) “Zachor!” – Remember what Amalek did to you so that you will know to eradicate this evil personified, they were perplexed. They turned to Moshe and questioned: “Moshe Rabeinu, how can you command us to remember Amalek, when you’ve already commanded us to remember the Sabbath?! How can we fulfill both ‘Zachor’s?” Before we look at Moshe’s answer, let’s ponder this strange question. Why were Bnei Israel bothered by the fact that they were commanded to “remember” both Amalek and Shabbos? Why can’t a person remember two different things? I was very bothered by this question until I remembered a person whom I’ve grown to admire greatly. Her name was Alice Herz-Sommer, and she died at the age of 110 in 2014. She and her son were survivors of the Theresienstadt concentration camp, but her husband, parents, and sister were all murdered by the Nazis. She was a professional pianist and stayed alive by playing piano in a trio in the camp.

Hatred eats the soul

Until her passing, she was the oldest survivor of the Holocaust. When asked about the key to her longevity, she answered that it was her positive attitude, which allowed her to be happy every single day. She saw only the beauty in everything, even in painful situations. She never complained and had a perpetual smile on her face. She was an eternal optimist: “When you are optimistic, when you are not complaining, when you look at the good side of your life, everybody loves you.” And, she never looked back with hatred against the Nazis: “Hatred eats the soul of the hater, not the hated.” Alice had a beautiful soul, which was fed by her music and her joy of life. We read about her and are somewhat envious, because we know that what she says is true. If only we would focus on the good parts of life and ignore the bad, we would be so much happier. I believe this is what Bnei Israel were questioning when they heard about the mitzvah to remember Amalek. Their line of reasoning was: Moshe, you’ve already commanded us to fill our minds and souls with the thoughts of Shabbos, the most holy and spiritual day of the week. We thought this meant that we were supposed to focus on the good and the holy in life, and to look past the evil and the ugly. We appreciated this commandment, because it’s so much healthier to focus on the good and the beautiful. How can you now tell us that we need to also focus on the bad in the world? How are we going to live to be 110 years old, and to always be happy, like Alice? Won’t our souls be consumed with hatred if we must remember Amalek?!

Moshe's two answers

Now that we have somewhat a grasp on the Midrash’s question, let’s look at the answer. There are actually two versions in two different Midrashaim of Moshe’s answer. In one version, Moshe answered Bnei Israel: “There are two kinds of beverages: Spiced wine, which we drink to celebrate, and vinegar, which, while bitter, we drink to cure an upset stomach. Both are necessary, just as both commandments to ‘Remember’ are necessary.” In the second version, Moshe offered a different parable: “A king makes a festive meal. When the table is laden with all of the delicious food and drink, he tells his guests, ‘Remember my beloved friend, John.’ Later, when the table is cleared off and they are all sitting around an empty table, he tells his guests, ‘Remember my despised enemy, Tom.’ Similarly, there’s a time to remember Shabbos, when the table is full, and a time to remember Amalek, when the table is empty.” The Midrash’s response is truly profound. In essence, Moshe was telling the Jewish people that seeing the world’s beauty only is a luxury that you as the Jewish people cannot afford. Evil exists, and to ignore it will have dire consequences, just as not taking bitter vinegar or medicine when you are sick will have dire consequences.

There is good and there is evil

By telling us to remember both Shabbos and Amalek, Hashem is essentially teaching that while there is much beauty in the world, evil will always abide, and the role of the Jewish people is to be part of the solution to eradicate that evil. There will be times in life when the “table will be empty” and mankind will be thrust into darkness and hatred. Usually, the Jew will be the “canary in the mine,” the first object of that hatred. If we don’t know how to deal with Amalek (as Mordechai and Esther did in the Purim story), we risk being annihilated by our haters. True, being forced to remember Amalek may actually curtail our quality of life, because by not living like Alice, our hearts may get filled with anxiety and dread from time to time. But this is our albatross as the Jewish people: We’ve been assigned to be the guardians of the light and the good by watching out for evil in all its incarnations. (I emphasize that this not a criticism of Alice Herz-Sommer; she encountered and endured Amalek face-to-face. She fulfilled many lifetimes-worth of her mitzvah of “Zachor” while in Theresienstadt, and was certainly entitled to spend the rest of her life focusing only on the good and the beautiful. For the rest of us who are not survivors, the mitzvah of “Zachor” requires our constant diligence, no matter how tempting it may be to emulate this great woman’s attitude on life.)

Zachor es HaShabbat & Zachor es Amalek

We should also note that the mitzvah to “remember the Sabbath” is one that applies every single day, as is noted by the poskim. But the mitzvah to “remember Amalek” can be fulfilled by hearing the passage in the Torah only once a year. This should indicate to us that while both mitzvos are to remember, the Torah wishes for us to place much more mental and emotional investment in thinking about the holy and the beautiful than the evil and the ugly. Until the Messiah’s arrival, we should spend every day remembering the good and the holy. Remembering Shabbos daily reminds us that there is so much beauty in this universe, which far outweighs the evil and the ugly. Occasionally, we must also remember that Amalek still abides, both within us and outside of us. Our failure is sometimes in creating the right balance. Just as “spiced wine” should be far more plentiful than “vinegar” on our tables, we mistakenly ingest too much vinegar and not enough sweet wine. It would be a mistake to only look at the animus and anti-Semitism that still lingers in certain segments of the world. We have at least as much obligation to see the “spiced wine” of the philo-Semites who truly love Israel and the Jewish people. May we succeed in eradicating Amalek in our lifetimes, bb”a.

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin

Learning to Be Cherubic

Usually when purchasing a container, one views the container’s cover as something ancillary to the container. But this doesn’t seem the case when it comes to Ark and its Cover. The Kapores, the Ark Cover (by the way, the English word “cover” derives from the Latin “cooperire,” which curiously resembles the word Kapores), is given prominence by the Torah as an important object on its own. Not only are the specifications for the Cover spelled out, but the Torah commands that two statues should be hammered out of the same gold that is used to manufacture the Kapores. In fact, the most visible and distinctive feature of the Aron is the Cover and its two Cherubim. Much has been discussed about the Cherubim, why they are not idolatrous icons and what their function is, but a commentary by R’ Yissochor Berish Eichenstein of Ziditchov provides fodder for what we might wish to extract as a moral lesson from seeing these two statues upon approaching the Holy of Holies. Rashi (25:18) tells us the Cherubim were sculptures of small children with wings. Furthermore, the Torah emphasizes that the statues were positioned on both “ends” of the Ark Cover (25:19): “כְּר֨וּב אֶחָ֤ד מִקָּצָה֙ מִזֶּ֔ה וּכְרוּב־אֶחָ֥ד מִקָּצָ֖ה מִזֶּ֑ה”. In fact, the Torah states this positioning on both “ends” no less than three times. What’s the lesson?

Cherubim as metaphor

When looking at these Cherubim, I can be inspired to think about myself. These sculptures are metaphors for each of us who is struggling to understand the meaning of life and the beautiful Torah that Hashem gave us with which we might have greater understanding about our existence and purpose. The Cover represents the fact that despite our best efforts at understanding the Torah, we’ve “barely scratched the surface.” Even when we think that we understand a Torah message, we’re only receiving the surface message. There’s so much more depth and infinitude that is inaccessible to us, just as the Cherubim stand atop the Cover, never being able to truly access the contents of the Aron. Secondly, the image of the small child on both “ends” of the Cover represents that as much as I think I may have attained wisdom over the course of this life, I am still but a child, even in my advanced age, when it comes to truly understanding the meaning and purpose of life. As much as I think I’ve advanced from one “end” of my life to the other, when I compare my accumulated knowledge to the knowledge of G-d, I realize that I’ve moved the wisdom needle ever so slightly in an infinitely deep and vast sea of wisdom.

Face to face humility

This is why the Torah states that the faces of the Cherubim are (25:20) “אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו” – facing each other. This communicates that when I’m a young person I look forward to attaining the wisdom of an older person, and look forward to the older version of myself, anticipating that as I get older I’ll become much wiser and capable. But as I get older, I look back to the younger version of myself and realize that I had so much more energy, vitality, and idealism, devoid of the cynicism and scars of a beleaguered life. This is the difference between King Solomon as a young man, when he wrote Shir HaShirim, the love song between the Jew and G-d, and the King Solomon as an older man, who wrote Koheles, filled with its wistful nihilism of looking back on life and saying, “הכל הבל”, everything is meaningless, because we’re all headed to the same demise.

Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev

The image of the Cherubim doesn’t just teach humility; childishness has its advantages, too. Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev is quoted teaching that there are three lessons you learn from babies: (1) When the child needs something or is in pain, it cries to its parent. (2) A baby is always busy -- you never see a baby just sitting there doing nothing. (3) When a baby falls down, it always gets up. Furthermore, despite the fact that we’ve only reached the surface of the Torah, and that we are but children even after an entire lifetime, the Cherubim are still portrayed as having wings, wings that are (25:20) “פֹּרְשֵׂ֨י כְנָפַ֜יִם לְמַ֗עְלָה” – spread out to the above. This reminds me that despite all my shortcomings as a mortal human being I can still spread my wings and try to fly. I may have feet of clay, but I also have wings which I can spread toward Heaven and do my best to reach whatever is attainable in this short lifetime. Looked upon this way, the Cherubim’s message is one of both humility and optimism about the human condition. Entering the Temple and seeing these majestic sculptures could help every single Jew visualize how he or she is to use their Judaism to propel them to the next level of living.

Bringing Divine Presence down

From the Cherubim, we can learn that as much as we think we know, as much knowledge and wisdom that we think we’ve accumulated, we still know nothing. But we can also draw optimism and hope from the Cherubim that the Jewish people were given the greatest gift when Hashem gave us the Torah. Not only a set of laws and practices with which to live our lives, but also a philosophy of optimism, that we have the great ability to spread our wings upwards to the open skies and reach for Heaven. And where does Hashem rest His Divine Presence? “וְנוֹעַדְתִּ֣י לְךָ֘ שָׁם֒ וְדִבַּרְתִּ֨י אִתְּךָ֜ מֵעַ֣ל הַכַּפֹּ֗רֶת מִבֵּין֙ שְׁנֵ֣י הַכְּרֻבִ֔ים” (25:22) – between those two Cherubim. When a Jew lives his life based on the Cherubim, the Divine Presence comes into his world. This is the Jewish people, especially in Israel today. We should all be very grateful that we are alive to bear witness. May these days of great hope and success for Israel continue to propel us to the Messianic Age, may we see it bb”a.

Parshas Mishpatim-Shekalim – Be The Angel By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin

Sending an angel

Everything was beautiful. The Jews were gathered around Mount Sinai. They had just heard the Ten Commandments, and then were given additional laws (“Mishpatim”) about how to structure their society which they would build upon entry into Eretz Israel. The people were inspired and uplifted. In continuing this inspirational moment, Hashem then told them (23:20): הנה אנכי שלח מלאך לפניך לשׁמרך בדרך ולהביאך אל־המקום אשׁר הכנתי Behold, I am sending forth an angel in front of you, to protect you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared. The commentaries grapple with the meaning of this verse. In a few weeks we will read about the sin of the Golden Calf. After this sin, Hashem was so upset with the people that He told Moshe that He could no longer directly travel with them. Instead, He would send an angel to guide them. Moshe protested and told Hashem that if He wouldn’t be directly engaged with His people, then there was no point in moving forward. Hashem finally assented and forgave them for the Golden Calf and agreed to be in their midst once again, sans the angel. If so, then why, during this glorious moment before the Golden Calf debacle, did Hashem tell them that He was sending an angel? Doesn’t an angel’s presence, instead of G-d Himself, imply a soured relationship? At this point, though, they hadn’t yet sinned, and there was no reason for Hashem to employ an angel instead of being in their midst directly!

Types of Angels

A number of commentaries seek to answer this question by suggesting that there are two different kinds of angels: There’s an angel which is accompanied by G-d directly and is synonymous with the “Shechinah,” the Divine Presence, and there’s another type of angel who is dispatched by Hashem, but Hashem remains at a distance. These are all esoteric ideas, and discussions of “how many angels can dance on the head of a needle” and other such angelic discussions often prove to be unfruitful. So let’s bring this all down to earth. Rav Yoseph Zvi Duschinsky (1867-1948) explained that “traveling with an angel” means, very simply, that there would no longer be overt miracles. That is, the word “angel” simply means an intermediary force, in this case, nature. After all the miracles of the Exodus, the parting of the Sea, the giving of the Ten Commandments, Hashem was now presenting to the Jewish people that from now on, the plan was for them to lead a prosaic existence without miracles. As they would imminently be entering the Land of Israel, Hashem was explaining to them that inheriting the Land would take hard work, because they could no longer rely on the miracles they had witnessed when leaving Egypt. This kind of existence is what was intended for man all along. We cannot live with continuous overt signs of G-d, for if we do, we lose our free will. This is why Yaakov, when blessing Ephraim and Menashe, told them (Gen. 48:16), “הַמַּלְאָךְ֩ הַגֹּאֵ֨ל אֹתִ֜י מִכָּל־רָ֗ע יְבָרֵךְ֘ אֶת־הַנְּעָרִים֒” – “The angel who has always saved me,” that is, Hashem who has always been there for me in a natural, covert way, “should bless these youths” similarly, in that they should be protected by G-d in a non-miraculous way. This way, we are able to serve Hashem amidst doubts and lack of clarity. The goal is to place our trust in Hashem even when we can’t see Him clearly.

Moshe's protest after the golden calf

After they sinned with the Golden Calf, however, Moshe realized that the Jews were still too new to this entire experience of free people living on their own in the desert. They needed additional miracles on a daily basis in order to prevent them from creating any new Golden Calves or other departures from their devotion to Hashem. That is why, when Hashem told Moshe after the Golden Calf that He would continue guiding them in the desert without miracles, Moshe protested: “It’s too soon – we’re not ready! Without miracles, You are setting us up for failure. Please Hashem, guide us miraculously at least through the desert, so that we can become accustomed to this new reality of being Your chosen people.” Hashem appreciated Moshe’s protest and assented to continue providing miracles while they were in the desert. The Manna and all the other miracles, the cloud and fire pillars, etc., resumed. Parents can relate to this message. As our children begin to grow, we slowly allow ourselves to pull away from them so that they can make their own mistakes. If we hover over them excessively, we run the risk of suffocating them and inhibiting their growth as adults. But if we withdraw too quickly from their tutelage, we set them up for failure. The wise parent assesses each one of his or her children to know what the right degree of oversight is right for the individual child.

Where are we today?

We have certainly matured over the millennia as a nation of Jews. We have seen the greatest triumphs and the greatest calamities befall us in our long history. Most of our history has been filled with Hashem’s intermediary “angel” accompanying us throughout our long sojourn. We have been called upon to continue placing our trust in Hashem throughout, even during our darkest periods. This has not proven to be easy, but for that segment of Klal Yisrael which has persevered in this difficult task, we have emerged whole and even more fortified with every historical iteration. This Shabbos is Parshas Shekalim. The holy sefarim tell us that the significance of “Shekalim” is not only to remind us of the half-shekel that Jews were required to donate to the Temple annually. On a more esoteric level, the word “Shekel” is a reminder of how G-d created the physical universe. As the Book of Creation notes, Hashem carefully “weighed” (“שקל” in Hebrew) how much of His Divinity would infuse the physical world. The measurement had to be very precise, in order to allow mankind to possess free will. Too much overt Divine light, and man loses his free will. Too little Divine light, and man descends into chaos and depravity.

Relying on miracles or angels?

Hashem’s angel still travels with us. True, we cannot rely on overt miracles. We cannot assume that just because we are davening and doing mitzvos that we are protected from natural disasters or mishaps. We live within the natural world, and we must comport ourselves accordingly. But we also take faith in the fact that the angel of G-d has been with us, through thick and thin, throughout our history. Hashem’s angel was with us in Auschwitz, and Hashem’s angel was with us when we founded the State of Israel. And, Hashem’s angel is with us as we endure difficult times in our own lives. Don’t give up on the angel. As Hashem told the people (23:21): “Be careful in its presence, heed its voice, and don’t go against it.” It’s hard to find Hashem these days, but our calling is to try our best to hear the voice of His angels. They are all around us, you know. They are the kind person who tries to help you while you anxiously wait in the doctor’s office. They are the person who calls you to check in and make sure you’re alright. They’re the person who slows down to give you the right of way when driving. And sometimes, the angel is you. As we relive creation in these days leading up to the new dawn of Spring, let’s all try to be an angel for someone. May we live to see those days of overt miracles once again, at the time of our Redemption, bb”a. Shabbat Shalom and Chodesh Tov.