June 8, 2022|ט' סיון ה' אלפים תשפ"ב Two Midot That Will Change Our Communities By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

Imagine how different our communities would be if each one of us could work on just two midot. This is the first Shabbat with our new YIO administration. Now this Shabbat is not the official installation so I will not directly address the outgoing or incoming administration but I would like to talk about leadership and communal involvement generally because now is the time when our lay leadership is trying to staff all the various roles in our shul and reassessing what has worked really well in the past, where we need improvement and how more people can become involved to help enhance communal life. In this context, I recommend that we all think about just two midot.

First, I recommend that we all think about becoming a bechor. What do I mean by that? In this week’s parsha, God tells us that He replaced the bechorim, the firstborns, with the Leviim, to serve Him. What is the difference between the bechor and the Levi? If we adopt a bechor model, then every segment of the population is represented by spiritual leadership. Every family has a leader. If we adopt a Levi model, then spiritual leadership is only represented by one segment of the population. Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch writes the following about the relationship between Leviim and the bechorim. Originally, the firstborn son in every family would care for the family and be the spiritual role model for the family and would have responsibilities in the mishkan. Every parent would say, “My son, the Rabbi,” because every family had its own private rabbi, which was the firstborn son. However, after the firstborns sinned, the service of the sanctuary, of the mishkan, was transferred to the Leviim, but the sanctity of the firstborn was not removed. The firstborns only forfeited the position of representing the nation in the sanctuary, but they still maintained their kedushah, their sanctity, in the home. The firstborn still receives a double portion. He is still the caregiver and role model for the family. He just lost the right to represent the nation in the mishkan, in the Temple. What emerges, then, is that the Levi represents the Bnei Yisrael as a nation, but the bechor still had responsibilities at home.

The way that this power dynamic emerged tells us that the Levi model alone doesn’t work. We still need the bechor. Do you know what the Levi model in contemporary society is? It’s the family that looks for a yeshiva to send their children and then they give over almost complete responsibility of educating their children to the yeshiva. They say that they are paying the yeshiva thousands of dollars per year and the yeshiva is the Levi. Therefore, the yeshiva should educate their children for the money they pay and they want a finished product when the yeshiva is done with their children. Unfortunately, there are parents who may not say this explicitly, but they act this way. They think that simply by sending their kids to yeshiva then their kids will turn out fine. Sometimes, after their children graduate from yeshiva high school, they often wonder what happened along the way. Many unexpected things can happen that are beyond the control of the parents or the yeshiva, but we increase our odds of raising children with fine Torah values if we understand that the bechorim still maintain their kedushah, if we understand the importance of parents modeling appropriate behavior for their children. Yeshivot cannot do it alone and parents cannot do it alone. Our spiritual success is tied to the dynamic partnership between the bechor and the Levi in our community.

The same partnership is necessary for a thriving community. Baruch Hashem, we live in a community of givers, of people who expend so much time and resources to support the core missions of our shul. We can create a divide between the lay leadership that provides material support for the shul, and the rabbinic leadership, the Levi who is the provider of spiritual leadership in our shul. But the optimal model is to have bechorim in our community, as well, when our members see themselves as partners with Levi to help shape the spiritual mission in our community, when our lay volunteers and every member in the shul have a spiritual vision for the community and then they try to inspire others in furtherance of that mission. Imagine if instead of only me preaching to you how we should all come to shul bright and early every Shabbat morning and stay for the drasha, we all took it upon ourselves to make it our mission to encourage one friend who is not here in this shul right now to do that. Imagine if we all became bechorim to inspire more men and women to help us all benefit from a strong presence of communal tefilla and communal Talmud Torah in our community. The Mishna in Pirkei Avot tells us “aseh lecha rav u’kneh lecha chaver.” We need to have a rabbi and a good friend. The reason is that sometimes a rabbi can inspire, but sometimes a good friend can inspire even more effectively. I urge each and every one of you – become a bechor in our community and see it as your mission to help inspire greater tefillah b’tzibbur, greater Talmud torah, more acts of chesed, and more refined midot in our community. Imagine how different our communities would look if each one of us took on that responsibility.

But we need to balance that feeling of being a bechor with another critical midah. Let us read four pesukim from this week’s parsha – perek gimel, pesukim aleph to daled:

וְאֵ֛לֶּה תּוֹלְדֹ֥ת אַהֲרֹ֖ן וּמֹשֶׁ֑ה בְּי֗וֹם דִּבֶּ֧ר יְ-הֹוָ֛ה אֶת־מֹשֶׁ֖ה בְּהַ֥ר סִינָֽי׃ וְאֵ֛לֶּה שְׁמ֥וֹת בְּֽנֵי־אַהֲרֹ֖ן הַבְּכֹ֣ר ׀ נָדָ֑ב וַאֲבִיה֕וּא אֶלְעָזָ֖ר וְאִיתָמָֽר׃

אֵ֗לֶּה שְׁמוֹת֙ בְּנֵ֣י אַהֲרֹ֔ן הַכֹּהֲנִ֖ים הַמְּשֻׁחִ֑ים אֲשֶׁר־מִלֵּ֥א יָדָ֖ם לְכַהֵֽן׃ וַיָּ֣מׇת נָדָ֣ב וַאֲבִיה֣וּא לִפְנֵ֣י יְ-הֹוָ֡ה בְּֽהַקְרִבָם֩ אֵ֨שׁ זָרָ֜ה לִפְנֵ֤י יְ-הֹוָה֙ בְּמִדְבַּ֣ר סִינַ֔י וּבָנִ֖ים לֹא־הָי֣וּ לָהֶ֑ם וַיְכַהֵ֤ן אֶלְעָזָר֙ וְאִ֣יתָמָ֔ר עַל־פְּנֵ֖י אַהֲרֹ֥ן אֲבִיהֶֽם׃

This is the line of Aaron and Moses at the time that Hashem spoke with Moses on Mount Sinai. These were the names of Aaron’s sons: Nadab, the first-born, and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar; those were the names of Aaron’s sons, the anointed priests who were ordained for priesthood. But Nadab and Abihu died by the will of Hashem, when they offered alien fire before Hashem in the wilderness of Sinai; and they left no sons. So it was Eleazar and Ithamar who served as priests in the lifetime of their father Aaron.

If you notice, the Torah tells us that we are going to read about the children of Aaron and Moshe and we only read about Aaron’s children. Additionally, the Torah specifically tells us that Aaron’s four children were anointed to serve. Isn’t that obvious? They were children of Aaron! Moreover, why mention that Nadav and Avihu did not have children in this context?

It seems that the Torah is trying to tell us that all four were appointed to serve, but two died because of their sins and because they were childless. What is the relevance of childlessness to their death? The Gemara in Masechet Yevamot attributes the death of Nadav and Avihu to the fact that they did not want to start a family. Had they wanted to start a family then they wouldn’t have died. But that’s not why they died! They died because they offered a strange fire in the kodesh ha’jodoshim, the Holy of Holies!

Perhaps Chazal are trying to teach us that Aaron had four children, each of whom was assigned a leadership role, but of these four, some of them saw leadership as an opportunity to serve and some of them saw leadership as a source of power. The Chatam Sofer explains that there are different opinions in Chazal as to the nature of the sin of Nadav and Avihu. Some say that they sinned because they were drunk when they entered into the kodesh hakodoshim, the holy of holies, some say that they were moreh halakha bifnei rabo, that they paskened halakha in front of their Rabbis, but the common denominator of both of these sins is that they are sins of gaavah, arrogance, and had they cared about having children, then they would have acted differently. The reason is that when someone must raise children, he must teach his children derech eretz, the way to behave. He must teach his children about respect, humility, deference to authority and by teaching these values, he will learn these values himself. Nadav and Avihu were not interested in having a family so they never had to train someone about these important character traits. As such, they were never forced into a position that they had to value and learn about these character traits. Presumably, Elazar and Itamar, on the other hand, had children and they learned the values of humility and respect which they had taught to their own children so they didn’t let their power get to their head.

Perhaps this is why not only is Aaron the parent of these children, but “v’eileh toldot Aaron u’Moshe” – they are also the children of Moshe. The Torah here does not list Moshe’s biological children, but Aaron’s children were also Moshe’s children because he taught them Torah and Torah values. They are his toladot, literally his creations. Our creations are not only the children we bear, but our creations also are the people we touch and we impact, by our care, concern and leadership. Nadav and Avihu died because they didn’t learn the midot that one learns from being a parent and raising children. They didn’t learn the midah of anavah, of humility. Elazar and Itamar learned these midot because they had children and therefore, they were good leaders. But Moshe was on an entirely different level. Moshe created children. Moshe created toladot. Moshe shaped an entire generation of Jews. Moshe is the exact opposite of Nadav and Avihu.

For Nadav and Avihu, their leadership was all about power. Moshe’s leadership was all about his children, about taking care of Bnei Yisrael, about humility, and it is no coincidence that the Torah tells us v’ha’ish Moshe anav m’od mikol ha’adam asher al pnei ha’adamah – that Moshe is the single individual who, with all of his greatness and power, epitomizes humility.

Imagine how different our communities would be if each one of us could work on just two midot. Imagine if each one of us would see ourselves as bechorim with a spiritual vision and the responsibility to shape the spiritual well-being of our community. And imagine if we do this with a sense of anavah, humility, of not looking down at others who may not be as religiously observant as us. Rather, we make those around us feel good about themselves and inspire them to grow with us. Imagine how different our community would be. May we all rise to this challenge for our own personal betterment and for that of our community.