חקת

The Mystery of Parah Adumah

The Parah Adumah passage is enigmatic for a number of reasons. The ritual bears many similarities to a Korban, but also contains a number of key differences. It is slaughtered like a Korban, but outside the confines of the Mishkan. It must be blemish free like a Korban, but has the added condition that it must be perfectly red/brown and never have carried a yoke. The blood is collected and sprinkled in the direction of the Mishkan by a Kohen, but never reaches the Mizbe’ach itself. The burning of the cow resembles a Korban, but the purpose is to generate the ash rather than to create a ‘pleasing aroma’. The impure individual sprinkled by the ashes is purified (similar to the function of the blood of a Korban), but paradoxically those performing the ritual are contaminated.[1]

Beyond the ritual itself, and perhaps befitting its mysterious nature, there are three major literary anomalies.

The first relates to location. Seemingly it would have been far more appropriate to include these laws in Sefer Vayikra which deals comprehensively with the various categories of impurity and their purification. Yet for some reason this chief category of impurity from a human corpse is omitted. To make matters worse, there are numerous prior references to the existence of this form of impurity, but the details of how the impurity transmits, the period of impurity, and how purification is achieved, is deferred until now with no obvious link to the surrounding sections.[2] 

The next challenge relates to the introductory verse:

זֹאת חֻקַּת הַתּוֹרָה אֲשֶׁר־צִוָּה ה׳ לֵאמֹר: (במדבר י״ט, ב) 

This is a unique formulation. In all other cases, laws are described as either a ‘Chok’ or as a ‘Torah’, but they are never combined in the same phrase.[3] In this verse Chukkat appears in construct form with the word Torah as the referent, but with no indication what the ‘Torah’ refers to. Basing himself on the Midrash, Rashi interprets the term Chukkat HaTorah as alluding to Parah Adumah’s role as the archetypal Chok in the Torah which defies human logic. This interpretation, however, is anachronistic as the use of the word Torah to refer to the entirety of the Torah (i.e. the Pentateuch) was a later development. [4] 

The third issue relates to the structure. The Parah Adumah passage comprises two main sections of identical length (146 words). The first section (vv. 1-10) deals with the initial preparation of the ashes which are then stored until needed. This represents a communal requirement to always ensure ashes are available for purification. The second section (vv. 14-22) deals with how the impurity transmits, and how the purification process involving the sprinkling of the ashes is performed in individual cases.[4] The ordering here seems strange insofar as the elaborate preparation of the ashes is described without revealing its purpose. It is only after the details of the preparation process that we learn what the ashes will be used for.

A more logical flow would have been to first introduce the laws of impurity and only then move on to the preparation of the ashes as an extension of the purification process. This is the order in every other instance of ritual impurity even where there is an elaborate purification process (e.g. Metzorah).  

One might counter, on chronological grounds, that preparation of the ashes is mentioned first as it takes place prior to the death which creates the impurity. However this doesn’t explain why there is absolutely no allusion to the purpose of the ashes in the first section. It also shifts the question to why the Torah mandated a pre-emptive procedure in the first place thereby distinguishing it from other cases of purification. As we shall see, the pre-emption point is indeed a critical component but it must be understood as more than a mere technicality. 

What emerges from both the second and third point is that the Torah treats the preparation of the ashes as an end in itself, not merely as a means to purification.[5] The idea behind this needs to be understood.

Between Chok and Torah

To address all these different issues we will start with a rather technical discussion of the difference between ‘Torah’ and ‘Chok’.

A Chok is a law which is absolute and unconditional. The classic Chok is a law of nature:

כֹּה אָמַר ה׳ אִם־לֹא בְרִיתִי יוֹמָם וָלָיְלָה חֻקּוֹת שָׁמַיִם וָאָרֶץ לֹא־שָׂמְתִּי׃ (ירמיהו ל״ג, ל״ה)

הַלְלוּהוּ שְׁמֵי הַשָּׁמָיִם וְהַמַּיִם אֲשֶׁר  מֵעַל הַשָּׁמָיִם… וַיַּעֲמִידֵם לָעַד לְעוֹלָם חׇק־נָתַן וְלֹא יַעֲבוֹר׃ (תהילים קמ״ח, ד-ו)

Within a legal framework, a Chok refers to a non-contingent statute which applies under all circumstances and for all time. This is distinct from a Torah which describes a specific set of actions or a process which must be followed in a given situation. It is informative that out of the 30 references to Chok to describe a specific law, 23 of those utilise the phrase Chukkat Olam. Examples of a Chok include the Pesach service and eating Matzah, prohibition of eating blood and fats, and fasting and resting on Yom Kippur.[6] The fixed nature of the law in these contexts does not just reflect its enduring character, but also its absolute non-contingent character.  

On the other hand, ‘Torah’ describes a particular process to be followed under prescribed circumstances. Classic examples of Torot include the procedures for offering various Korbanot (Olah, Asham, Chatat, Shelamim) and certain purification procedures (Metzorah, Yoledet, Zav). 

Given this background, we can understand why the second section which sets out how to apply the ashes for purification is introduced as a Torah: 

זֹאת הַתּוֹרָה אָדָם כִּי־יָמוּת בְּאֹהֶל כׇּל־הַבָּא אֶל־הָאֹהֶל וְכׇל־אֲשֶׁר בָּאֹהֶל יִטְמָא שִׁבְעַת יָמִים׃ (במדמבר י״ט, ד)

Since the second section dealing with the purification procedure is described as a Torah, the phrase Chukkat HaTorah introducing the first section means the specific Chok which underpins that Torah i.e. the preparation of the ashes. The preparation of the Parah Adumah ashes meets the definition of a Chok as the essence of the law is that there must always be ashes ready for purification, whether or not there is a specific need for them at any given moment.[7]

Pre-empting death

The unique introductory phrase ‘Chukkat haTorah’ highlights the special nature of the Parah Adumah law which consists of a universal Chok (to prepare the ashes) which pre-empts and facilitates a particular Torah (purifying the contaminated individual). This stands in contrast to other purification procedures which comprise only a Torah to be carried out when the need arises.

The broader spiritual implication of this Chok is that anticipating the possibility of death is made into a fixed feature of life. To understand the deeper meaning here we now turn to the basic symbolism of the ritual itself. 

Within the conceptual world of Korbanot (to which Parah Adumah belongs), animal sacrifice is a metaphor for human life. In the unique case of Parah Adumah, the blemish-free perfectly red/brown cow is a symbol of beauty and life (symbolised by the reddish colour). The slaughter and burning of the cow is a graphic depiction of the transformation of a symbol of life into ash – the ultimate symbol of death. Ashes represent the transience of life and inevitability of death. All living beings, however large and impressive they were in life, eventually return to the earth the same way. The fact that the cow is burnt before it has ever carried a yoke is also a sober reminder of unfulfilled potential which is almost always felt when death strikes.  

When Adam and Eve partake of the Tree of Knowledge, they acquire knowledge of their mortality:

בְּזֵעַת אַפֶּיךָ תֹּאכַל לֶחֶם עַד שׁוּבְךָ אֶל־הָאֲדָמָה כִּי מִמֶּנָּה לֻקָּחְתָּ כִּי־עָפָר אַתָּה וְאֶל־עָפָר תָּשׁוּב׃ (בראשית ג:יט)

Consciousness of one’s own mortality requires a deep level of self-awareness, which is both a distinguishing feature of human life and a reflection of the image of God – a key theme of the first two chapters of Genesis. Paradoxically, it is the contemplation of life’s finite nature which also reminds us of the limits of the God likeness. This is part of the significance of the pre-emptive preparation of ashes of the Parah Adumah and their continuous storage for potential use. It acts as an ongoing reminder of human mortality and is a call to act with humility in life.  

From אפר to עפר

In addition to the above, Parah Adumah also provides a positive perspective which protects against a descent into nihilism. At the end of the day it is the same ashes which cleanses the impurity caused by the corpse. The word used for ashes is אפר, however in the last instance describing the ashes being sprinkled over the impure individual, the word used is עפר. Although linguistically and visually related, the effect of the ע and א exchange is to create a word pair with related but divergent meanings.[8] Whereas ash is the end of life, earth is the source of life. Returning to Genesis, this idea is represented by Adam being created from the soil: 

וַיִּיצֶר ה׳ אֱלֹהִים אֶת־הָאָדָם עָפָר מִן־הָאֲדָמָה וַיִּפַּח בְּאַפָּיו נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים וַיְהִי הָאָדָם לְנֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה׃ (בראשית ב׳, ז)

Both the terms עפר and אדמה used in this verse which relates the physical origins of man, are referenced or alluded (אדמה=אדומה) to in the Parah Adumah passage. From a biological perspective, it is of course the earth which nourishes and sustains life, especially when combined with water. Ash is what remains when life has been entirely consumed, but even ash is able to provide fertility to the soil to enable new life to emerge. The all important message is that whilst death may be inevitable, there is continuity through offspring, and the influence of one generation shapes and molds the next.[9] 

It is the awareness of mortality on the one hand and generational continuity on the other, which enables one to maximise potential in life.[10] This is the significance of the Parah Adumah belonging to the world of Chok which requires proactive engagement with issues of mortality, rather than as a Torah which is only reactive to the tragedy of death itself. 

Let us now use this discussion to better understand why Parah Aduma is in Sefer Bamidbar and not Sefer Vayikra. The focal point of Sefer Vayikra is the Mishkan. The Mishkan and by extension the Kohanim embody regularity and order which is also a reflection of God’s immutability. In the words of R Sacks:

"The priestly mind sees the universe in terms of distinctions, boundaries and domains, in which each object or act has its proper place and they must not be mixed. The Kohen's task is to maintain boundaries and respect limits. For the Kohen, goodness equals order." (R' Sacks, introduction to the Yom Kippur Machzor)

Sefer Bamidbar on the other hand focuses on the real-world events outside the bubble of the Mishkan. That presents us with a more dynamic environment where there is disruption and spontaneity, failure and revival.[11] A static world with no development and growth is not a human world, yet the cost of that growth includes inevitable failure.

The finality and tragedy of death which Parah Adumah attempts to come to terms with, necessarily excludes it from the regularity expressed in the laws of Sefer Vayikra.[12] To be sure, death does feature in Sefer Vayikra but as an extraordinary event which creates conflict with the overarching theme of purity. When Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu are suddenly killed, Moshe expects Aaron to carry on with the service as if nothing happened. We also learn about how Kohanim are generally prohibited from contact with the dead altogether. It was therefore necessary to remove the portion of Parah Adumah which actively engages the tragedy of death from Sefer Vayikra – just like the ritual itself takes place outside the Mishkan. 

Generational Continuity

We can perhaps go a step further to explain the specific location of the passage. The establishment of the Mishkan containing the ark with the Luchot and Keruvim, is undoubtedly a conceptual remodelling of the Garden of Eden. Within the Vayikra eutopia, the Divine presence resides in the Mishkan and projects outwards encompassing not just the Kohanim but the entire nation. Under this model, there should be no death – as there was no death in the original Garden. Within the real-life narrative of Sefer Bamidbar however, failure leads to the death of the first generation. But as the Rambam sensed, there is a strong sense of inevitability in the story – a generational change was fundamentally required to meet the new challenges for entering the land.[13]

It is precisely at the point of transition between the first and second generation that we are introduced to the Parah Adumah. Parashat Korach takes place at the beginning of the 40 years and Chukkat picks up the narrative at the end of the 40 years – the only intervening passage is Parah Adumah. To highlight this transition it is Elazar, the son of Aaron of the second generation, who is identified as the Kohen who supervises the ritual rather than Aaron himself. 

Locating the Parah Adumah passage at this particular point, imparts the comforting message that this is not a story of wholesale replacement (as was indeed threatened at the time of the golden calf), but one of continuity and development. The new generation emerges from the ashes of the first but its persona and resilience is shaped by the first generation, and builds off its achievements and failures.

The Chok of Parah Adumah pre-empts the tragedy of death – not only from a legal and conceptual standpoint – but also in terms of the wider literary structure as it prepares us for the demise of the first generation. In fact, straight after the Parah Adumah passage we read about the deaths and impending deaths of the three generational leaders – Moshe, Aaron and Miriam. In this respect the placement of Parah Adumah prepares us to come to terms with the deaths of the leaders. Like the Parah Adumah they were blemish-free and innocent, but died as part of the generational transition.[14] Like the blood of the Parah Adumah which is slaughtered outside the camp and whose blood is sprinkled towards – but not quite reaching – the Mishkan, so too the leaders die outside the Land of Israel, just short of their destination. Their legacy (the ‘ashes’) however, lives on and guides the new generation who will be the ones to enter the land and complete the mission.[15]        

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[1] Ramban (Deut. 21:5-8) saw Parah Adumah as part of a group of three special Korbanot performed outside the Mishkan (the other two being Eglah Arufah and Se’ir HaMishtale’ach). The quasi Korban status has far reaching halachic implications, see for example the debates in Mishnah Parah 2:3 and 4:1 about how far the Korban comparison goes. 

[2] This is especially strange as the Rashbam repeatedly tells us that the Torah always provides background and context ahead of time (what he refers to as הקדמות – see for example Rashbam Bereishit 1:1).

[3] The only other place the combined phrase ‘Chukkat HaTorah’ appears is Bamidbar 31:21 in the context of purifying the vessels following the battle with Midian, however that usage is clearly intended to link back to our passage.

[3] The term Torah is used in Sefer Devarim in a broader way than the earlier books, but still does not mean the entire Torah.

 

[4] This division of the passages is based on R’ Elchanan Samet’s article here. This is characteristic of his general tendency to divide passages into two halves of equal length. He argues (convincingly in my view) that the verses between the two main passages (vv. 11-13) act as a bridge between the two sections.  

[5] For this reason, the Rambam classified the preparation of the ashes as an independent Mitzvah to the purification process. 

 

[6] The reference to Pesach and Matzah as a Chok is probably to highlight the ongoing obligation in contrast to the one-off events of the night of the Exodus. It also sets it apart from every other individual Korban.  

[7] In the words of the Rashbam:

זאת חקת התורה - ולפנינו יפרש באיזו תורה הוא מדבר, דכתיב: זאת התורה אדם כי ימות באהל - כלומר: חקת התורה שאמר למשה זאת התורה.

[8] Other examples include: פאר-פער, אור-עור, אושר-עושר, גאל-געל

[9] This is perhaps the reason a cow is used which was a well known symbol of fertility in the ancient world.

[10] In the story of Adam and Eve, they gain knowledge of childbirth at the same time as they acquire knowledge of mortality. 

 

[11] I discussed this at greater length in other contexts here and here

[12] Tzoraat may be unusual and cause immense suffering, but at the end of the day the person is expected to recover and return to the camp.

[13] See Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim III:24). Rambam generally believed that the Torah drives positive evolutionary change across generations – which sits well with our discussion. We have discussed previously how man’s original sin was also an inevitable outcome expressing the innate human desire for self-fulfilment. Following man’s original sin, immortality is replaced with progeny, and here too the second generation steps into the shoes of the first generation – perhaps creating a parallel between the two sins (which requires much further discussion).

[14] That Moshe died before entering the land primarily due to being the leader of the first generation – rather than as a direct punishment of hitting the rock – was discussed here. 

[15] Joel Kahan pointed out to me that the idea that Parah Adumah bears an allusion to the death of the leaders and creates a framework which enables everyone to move on, can be read into the Gemara:    

לָמָּה נִסְמְכָה מִיתַת מִרְיָם לְפָרָשַׁת פָּרָה אֲדוּמָּה? לוֹמַר לָךְ: מָה פָּרָה אֲדוּמָּה מְכַפֶּרֶת — אַף מִיתָתָן שֶׁל צַדִּיקִים מְכַפֶּרֶת. (בבלי מועד קטן כ״ח.)

The Gemara is quoted by Rashi (19:1) but the Parah Adumah reference in the answer is substituted for Korbanot more generally.         

 

בהעלותך

Skin-Deep Vision

Miriam is punished for speaking negatively against Moshe, yet what she actually means is unclear.

וַתְּדַבֵּר מִרְיָם וְאַהֲרֹן בְּמֹשֶׁה עַל־אֹדוֹת הָאִשָּׁה הַכֻּשִׁית אֲשֶׁר לָקָח כִּי־אִשָּׁה כֻשִׁית לָקָח׃ וַיֹּאמְרוּ הֲרַק אַךְ־בְּמֹשֶׁה דִּבֶּר ה׳ הֲלֹא גַּם־בָּנוּ דִבֵּר וַיִּשְׁמַע ה׳׃ (במדבר י״ב, א-ב)

According to Rashi (based on Chazal), Miriam disapproved of Moshe’s decision to separate from his wife Tzipporah — ostensibly due to his proximity to God which he believed demanded abstinence. This is related to the statement in the second verse where Miriam apparently downplays Moshe’s prophetic uniqueness by equating it to their own prophetic experience.     

There are several problems with this approach. First and foremost, we do not see anywhere that Moshe divorced or separated from Tzipporah following their reunion in Ex. 18. The verse in question implies the exact opposite — the issue was that he “took” the Ishah HaKushit, not that he divorced her (see Ibn Kaspi’s very sharp criticism of this approach due to it directly contradicting the plain meaning). Second, there is clear significance to the fact that his wife was a Kushite which is twice mentioned in the verse, yet this fact plays no material role within this explanation. 

Ibn Ezra tries to address the second issue by suggesting that Miriam accused Moshe of separating from Tzipporah as Moshe perceived her to be lacking in beauty. He then explains the second verse as presenting Miriam’s reasoning of why Moshe could not have been acting with sincere spiritual motive as Moshe’s prophecy was not really unique.   

Rashbam takes a wildly different approach. He says that the Ishah HaKushit was not in fact Tzipporah as Tzipporah was from Midian (modern day Saudi Arabia) and not Kush (modern day Sudan or Ethiopia). He quotes an unfamiliar Midrash that says Moshe ruled over Kush for 40 years during which he married one of the local princesses. Miriam disapproved of Moshe marrying a woman descended from Ham, unaware that he had never been intimate with her. The main problem here is that there is no other mention of this mysterious woman (and none at all about the abstention). Second, why would this criticism only surface now if they married so long ago. Finally, it would seem cruel and purposeless to marry her but then never consummate the marriage.       

A third explanation is offered by Shmuel David Luzatto (Italy, 1800-1865) and this is the approach I’d like to build on. He identifies the Ishah HaKushit as Tzipporah like Rashi, but he relates Miriam’s issue to the fact that Tzipporah was of non-Israelite origin — similar to Rashbam. Not only was she a non-Israelite, but she was a Kushite — a term that Miriam seems to use pejoratively. The second verse adds that Miriam thought Moshe was acting as a law unto himself due to his prophetic superiority. 

As for the geographical issue, Ibn Ezra already points out that some references in Tanakh seem to equate Kush and Midian suggesting ethnical overlap: 

תַּחַת אָוֶן רָאִיתִי אׇהֳלֵי כוּשָׁן יִרְגְּזוּן יְרִיעוֹת אֶרֶץ מִדְיָן׃ (חבקוק ג׳, ז)

It may also be the case that the Kushite reference is figurative and describes Tzipporah’s appearance — notably her dark skin, even though she was an ethnic Midianite. From other biblical references it is indeed clear that skin colour was perceived as a defining feature of a Kushite:

הֲיַהֲפֹךְ כּוּשִׁי עוֹרוֹ וְנָמֵר חֲבַרְבֻּרֹתָיו גַּם־אַתֶּם תּוּכְלוּ לְהֵיטִיב לִמֻּדֵי הָרֵעַ׃ (ירמיה י״ג, כ״ג)

In any event, it seems reasonable to assume the Kushite woman in this passage does indeed refer to Tzipporah.

Black vs white

The significance of Tzipporah being referred to as the Ishah HaKushit and not by her real name, lies in the fact that her ethnicity (and perhaps her skin colour) was precisely the target of Miriam’s slur. When Miriam speaks “concerning the Ishah HaKushit which he took” we anticipate some sort of explanation of what the problem was. Instead the verse simply repeats word for word the earlier part of the verse: “for he had taken an Ishah Kushit”. The repetition highlights that Miriam took issue with the very fact that she was a Kushite and there was nothing deeper to it. This point is especially forceful if the term Kushite is meant figuratively to describe skin colour rather than ethnicity.   

To add salt to the wound, Tzipporah together with Yitro had demonstrated tremendous self-sacrifice in leaving their homeland to join the Jewish people. The name Tzipporah evokes the homing instinct and fidelity of a bird and probably reflects her loyalty and dedication in returning to Moshe even after he had “sent her away”:[1]

וַיִּקַּח יִתְרוֹ חֹתֵן מֹשֶׁה אֶת־צִפֹּרָה אֵשֶׁת מֹשֶׁה אַחַר שִׁלּוּחֶיהָ׃ (שמות י״ח, ב)

Despite her loyalty, she was now being dismissed as an outsider. Since Miriam’s transgression was to speak negatively about Tzipporah by casting her as an outsider, the onset of Tzara’at — an unsightly skin affliction — was a fitting punishment: 

וְהֶעָנָן סָר מֵעַל הָאֹהֶל וְהִנֵּה מִרְיָם מְצֹרַעַת כַּשָּׁלֶג (י״ב, י)

Miriam marginalised Tzipporah on account of her (black?) skin colour, so Miriam was excluded from the camp for a 7 day period on account of her diseased (snow white) skin.

There is also a sharp irony in the way Miriam touts her prophetic capacity to support her criticism of Moshe. A prophet is supposed to have a deep powers of perception which enables them to envisage the future.[2] In sharp contrast to these qualities, however, Miriam's perspective on Tzipporah was merely skin-deep. On the other hand, it was specifically Tzipporah's father that has demonstrated prophetic qualities which enabled him to predict the tragic events described in the prior passage...[3]

Yitro - the deep-sighted outsider 

The Miriam passage is embedded in a sequence of passages which commences with Yitro (=Chovav) leaving the camp and ends with the tragic episode of the spies. By understanding the Miriam passage in this way it fits neatly into the broader theme of these passages.

In that earlier passage, Moshe attempts to convince Yitro to stay on as their guide on account of his ability to act as “the eyes” of the camp:

וַיֹּאמֶר אַל־נָא תַּעֲזֹב אֹתָנוּ כִּי  עַל־כֵּן יָדַעְתָּ חֲנֹתֵנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר וְהָיִיתָ לָּנוּ לְעֵינָיִם׃ (במדבר י׳:ל״א)

The direct meaning relates to the experienced vision of a guide. However, it might also allude to Yitro's far-sighted vision demonstrated when he established the judiciary (Ex. 18). In that earlier episode, Yitro sensed that Moshe's autocratic leadership was unsustainable. Through his plan to decentralise the leadership and invite, he was able to relieve the pressure on Moshe and empower the people. However, as soon as Yitro departs and his influence wanes, his earlier predictions come true. This is the story of the next passage:

נָבֹל תִּבֹּל גַּם־אַתָּה גַּם־הָעָם הַזֶּה אֲשֶׁר עִמָּךְ כִּי־כָבֵד מִמְּךָ הַדָּבָר לֹא־תוּכַל עֲשֹׂהוּ לְבַדֶּךָ׃ (שמות י״ח, י״ח)

לֹא־אוּכַל אָנֹכִי לְבַדִּי לָשֵׂאת אֶת־כׇּל־הָעָם הַזֶּה כִּי כָבֵד מִמֶּנִּי (במדבר י״א, י"ד)

The Divine response to the situation follows Yitro's blueprint. New spiritual leaders are appointed who will share the burden of leadership with Moshe and add a new spiritual dimension to counter their base desires. The theme of eyes and perception is prominent in this passage as well:

וְעַתָּה נַפְשֵׁנוּ יְבֵשָׁה אֵין כֹּל בִּלְתִּי אֶל־הַמָּן עֵינֵינוּ׃ וְהַמָּן כִּזְרַע־גַּד הוּא וְעֵינוֹ כְּעֵין הַבְּדֹלַח׃ (במדבר י״א, ו)

The next passage deals with Miriam's negative speech which, as discussed, was driven by the superficial perspective about Moshe's wife. The same theme then continues its way into the spies passage and lies behind the downfall of the spies the land. Every indication of the fertility and beauty of the land is perceived by the spies as a threat. This shallow perspective caused them to see everything as outsized and intimidating. 

וְשָׁם רָאִינוּ אֶת־הַנְּפִילִים בְּנֵי עֲנָק מִן־הַנְּפִלִים וַנְּהִי בְעֵינֵינוּ כַּחֲגָבִים וְכֵן הָיִינוּ בְּעֵינֵיהֶם׃ (י״ד, ל"ג)

Like Miriam, they were led astray by superficial vision which couldn’t penetrate the surface of what met their eyes. 

Finally, a call for a deeper perception stands at the heart of the Tzitzit passage that appears at the end of next week's parashah:[3]

וְהָיָה לָכֶם לְצִיצִת וּרְאִיתֶם אֹתוֹ וּזְכַרְתֶּם אֶת־כׇּל־מִצְוֺת ה׳ וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֹתָם וְלֹא־תָתוּרוּ אַחֲרֵי לְבַבְכֶם וְאַחֲרֵי עֵינֵיכֶם אֲשֶׁר־אַתֶּם זֹנִים אַחֲרֵיהֶם׃ לְמַעַן תִּזְכְּרוּ וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֶת־כׇּל־מִצְוֺתָי וִהְיִיתֶם קְדֹשִׁים לֵאלֹהֵיכֶם׃ (במדבר ט״ו, לֹ״ט-מ)

These verses contain a number of allusions to the spies episode where it was the inability to see beyond the harsh reality that caused the fear and failure. Only through a conscious awareness of a deeper reality beneath the surface, can the nation develop the spiritual fortitude to enter the land and overcome their outsized enemies.

---------------------------

[1] Interestingly, Moshe convinced Yitro to join them when he spoke about (אודות) the nation — the same phrase as used in the Miriam passage. But in this context it is not slander, but quite the opposite — Moshe conveys how God responded to their distress and saved them:

וַיְסַפֵּר מֹשֶׁה לְחֹתְנוֹ אֵת כׇּל־אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה ה׳ לְפַרְעֹה וּלְמִצְרַיִם עַל אוֹדֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל אֵת כׇּל־הַתְּלָאָה אֲשֶׁר מְצָאָתַם בַּדֶּרֶךְ וַיַּצִּלֵם ה׳׃ (שמות י״ח, ח)

[2] The Ko'ach HaMedameh in the terminology of the Rambam (see Moreh Nevuchim II:36)

[3] The irony actually runs even deeper. I've suggested previously that a careful reading of the earlier Yitro passage shows that Yitro’s reforms placed emphasis on diffusion of power, democratization of knowledge, and individual responsibility which was a critical prelude to Matan Torah. Accordingly, the mass revelation and prophetic experience at Mt Sinai was directly related to Yitro’s intervention. If this is correct then the very prophecy which Miriam enlists to back her criticism of Moshe, was enabled as a result of Yitro — inspired by his sensitivity to the need for broader inclusivity.   

     

[4] The roots ראה, תור, זנה from the Tzitzit passage feature prominently in the spies episode, for example:

אֵלֶּה שְׁמוֹת הָאֲנָשִׁים אֲשֶׁר־שָׁלַח מֹשֶׁה לָתוּר אֶת־הָאָרֶץ וַיִּקְרָא מֹשֶׁה לְהוֹשֵׁעַ בִּן־נוּן יְהוֹשֻׁעַ׃  (במדבר י״ג, י״ז)

וּרְאִיתֶם אֶת־הָאָרֶץ מַה־הִוא וְאֶת־הָעָם הַיֹּשֵׁב עָלֶיהָ הֶחָזָק הוּא הֲרָפֶה הַמְעַט הוּא אִם־רָב׃ (במדבר י״ג, י״ח)

וּבְנֵיכֶם יִהְיוּ רֹעִים בַּמִּדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה וְנָשְׂאוּ אֶת־זְנוּתֵיכֶם עַד־תֹּם פִּגְרֵיכֶם בַּמִּדְבָּר׃ (במדבר י״ד, לֹ"ג)

 

פינחס

The Mo'ed of the Tamid

The list of Korbanot mentioned in Parashat Pinchas raises a difficult challenge. Seemingly these should be located in Sefer Vayikra which describes the various categories of Korbanot, as well as the details of the various festivals during which the Musafim are typically brought.[1] The Musafim are alluded to, but for some reason the details are deferred to Sefer Bamidar.

The appearance of the Korban Tamid at the start of the list raises particular questions. The details of the Korban Tamid were previously set out in almost identical terms in Parashat Tetzaveh (Ex. 29:38-41) and referenced again in Parashat Tzav (Lev. 6:2). Why are the details of the Korban Tamid repeated here alongside the Musafim?

Ramban addresses the first question by suggesting that the Musafim were not in fact offered in the wilderness.[2] The instructions relating to the Musafim were therefore only given as the final preparations were made to enter the land. It seems that the Ramban's general position that the Torah follows chronological order informs his approach here.

The problem is that there are many Mitzvot which explicitly apply only upon entry into the land, and nevertheless the instructions were given at an earlier point. This includes the Korban Omer and Shtei HaLechem which are discussed within the very passage in Vayikra which omits the details of the Musafim.[3]

Second, if this reasoning were correct, one would have expected the Torah to introduce the Musafim with a caveat that the foregoing applies when they enter the land (e.g. ki tavo'u el ha'aretz…) as it indeed does in other places where such limitation applies. Other than the question of location, there seems to be no compelling textual or other reason to assume that the Musafim were only offered once in the land. The Ramban's view also seems to contradict the Mishna (Menachot 4:4) which assumes that the Korbanot mentioned in Sefer Bamidbar were in fact offered in the wilderness.

Due to these reasons, I would like to consider an alternative approach which relates the location of the passage to the overarching theme of Sefer Bamidbar.

Vayikra to Bamidbar – from Tamid to Musaf

As discussed in a previous post, Sefer Vayikra deals with the fundamental framework and structure of the Mishkan. It also deals with the various categories and definitions of purity and holiness, and their immediate legal ramifications and associated obligations. These systems and laws are fixed and rigid.

Sefer Bamidbar, in contrast, speaks – through the medium of law and narrative - of a dynamic interaction between God and the people. This is borne out primarily by the fact that Sefer Bamidbar is a narrative with legal portions woven in. Narratives are fluid; new circumstances arise which challenge prior stability. The heart of Sefer Bamidbar is a story of failure and revival. One generation sins and dies out and a new one emerges from the ashes.[4] Vayikra, on the other hand, comprises a well-structured body of law with a couple of isolated narratives. In short, Sefer Vayikra is static whereas Sefer Bamidbar is kinetic. Sefer Bamidbar therefore focuses – even within the legal context (as we will shortly see) - on the unscripted and the extraordinary.

A common conception is that Sefer Bamidbar focuses on the Israelite interaction with the Mishkan whilst Vayikra focuses on the Kohanim. But this doesn't quite follow through. The lighting of the Menorah is in Bamidbar, yet it is performed by Aharon. As presently discussed, Sefer Bamidbar also contains the passage of the Musafim which is more related to the world of the Kohanim. Within Sefer Vayikra there are also challenges. Parashat Vayikra itself does not actually deal with the Kohanim (they are hardly mentioned) but focuses on the person bringing the Korban. Furthermore, the second half of Vayikra focuses on the holiness outside the Mishkan and contains many laws which are not related specifically to the Kohanim.

Nevertheless, it is fair to say that whilst the Kohanim are the main characters of Sefer Vayikra, Sefer Bamidar places greater emphasis on the wider Israelite camp. The critical point, however, is that this derives from the fact that the Kohanim are the symbols of law and structure which is what truly defines Sefer Vayikra. In the words of R' Sacks:

"The priestly mind sees the universe in terms of distinctions, boundaries and domains, in which each object or act has its proper place and they must not be mixed. The Kohen's task is to maintain boundaries and respect limits. For the Kohen, goodness equals order." (R' Sacks, introduction to the Yom Kippur Machzor)[5].

In the previous post, I noted many examples throughout Sefer Bamidbar which illustrate the point. In the interests of space, I will note below only the main ones relevant to our Parashah and the next.

• Parashat Pinchas commences with the vindication of Pinchas for his extra-judicial killing of Zimri and Kosbi. The courageous act of Pinchas was firmly outside any normative framework.
• After the division of the land, the daughters of Tzelofchad boldly challenge Moshe about the inequity of their position which results in a change to the existing inheritance laws.
• Immediately prior to the passage of the Korbanot, Moshe demands that God appoints a new leader to replace him. The opening phrase - va-yedaber Moshe el ha-shem lei'mor - is unique and notably inverts the standard formula where God commands Moshe.
• The beginning of Matot sets out the laws relating the exceptional ability of a father or husband to annul certain vows.
• Following the battle with Midyan, the officers decide entirely of their own volition to dedicate some of the booty as gratitude to God.
• The tribes of Reuven and Gad initiate a request to settle the east bank of the Jordan. Moshe rebukes them but then accepts the proposal once they offer to fight alongside (and even lead) their fellow tribes in battle.
• The conquests of the sons of Menashe are undertaken through their own initiative.

We may leverage this same model to explain the position of the Musafim. The unique aspects of each festival (whether agricultural or historical) which are integral to their identity as Mikra'ei Kodesh, are set out in Sefer Vayikra. The discussion there pertains to the essence of the day's holiness and therefore belongs squarely in Sefer Vayikra.

In Parashat Pinchas the Musafim are not intrinsic to the identity of the festivals, but additional Korbanot offered at these opportune and festive occasions. They are a response to the holiness of the day but not part of its core definition. By adding to the regular Tamid, they enhance and harness the spiritual atmosphere of the holy day. They are not human-led initiatives but nevertheless lie outside the normal structure. This may explain why over and over the Torah emphasises that these Korbanot are to be offered in addition to (milvad), and not instead of, the regular Tamid.

This point alone might explain why the Tamid features at the start of the list. It is the baseline requirement which the Musafim build off. The contrast with the norm highlights the special nature of these Korbanot and their compatibility with the dynamic nature of Sefer Bamidbar.

Every day as a Mo'ed

We might stop here but I would like to tentatively suggest there is something more going on with the repetition of the Tamid. The concluding verse of our passage states that these are the laws of the Korbanot to be offered on the various Mo'adim:

וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אִשֶּׁה לַה' עֹלָה אוֹ־זֶבַח לְפַלֵּא־נֶדֶר אוֹ בִנְדָבָה אוֹ בְּמֹעֲדֵיכֶם לַעֲשׂוֹת רֵיחַ נִיחֹחַ לַה' מִן־הַבָּקָר אוֹ מִן־הַצֹּאן׃ (במדבר ט"ו:ג)

Typically the Mo'adim are considered to refer to the various festivals/holidays. What is interesting here is that the term Mo'ed seems to encompass the Tamid as well. This is even clearer from the introductory verse which immediately precedes the Korban Tamid.

צַו אֶת־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם אֶת־קָרְבָּנִי לַחְמִי לְאִשַּׁי רֵיחַ נִיחֹחִי תִּשְׁמְרוּ לְהַקְרִיב לִי בְּמוֹעֲדוֹ׃ (במדבר כ"ח:ב)

Every day demands a new Korban Tamid and therefore every day is a Mo'ed. In the words of Rashi:[6]

בְּכָל יוֹם הוּא מוֹעֵד הַתְּמִידִים

The use of the term Mo'ed with reference to the daily Tamid suggests that every day is unique and deserves to be marked independently with its own Korban. Each day is infused with new meaning and enables a new encounter with God.

The ability of the Tamid to mark each day afresh is related to the capacity of the Tamid to inaugurate. The Tamid is the only Korban mentioned in Sefer Shemot other than those which were part of the Mishkan's inauguration. In fact, it is appended to the instructions for the inauguration ceremony as though it is an organic part of it.[7]

This inaugurating function of the Tamid is acknowledged in the Halakhic sources as well. The Mishna states that a new Mizbe'ach had to be inaugurated through the morning Tamid:

...שֶׁאֵין מְחַנְּכִין אֶת מִזְבַּח הַזָּהָב אֶלָּא בִקְטֹרֶת הַסַּמִּים, וְלֹא מִזְבַּח הָעוֹלָה אֶלָּא בְתָמִיד שֶׁל שַׁחַר, וְלֹא אֶת הַשֻּׁלְחָן אֶלָּא בְלֶחֶם הַפָּנִים בְּשַׁבָּת, וְלֹא אֶת הַמְּנוֹרָה אֶלָּא בְשִׁבְעָה נֵרוֹתֶיהָ בֵּין הָעַרְבָּיִם (משנה מנחות ד:ד)[8]

This all stands in stark contrast with the way the Tamid is described in Sefer Vayikra. In Sefer Vayikra, the Korban Tamid is presented as the paradigm of continuity. Its purpose – in the specific context of Vayikra - seems to be to ensure that the Mizbe'ach is not left vacant.

צַו אֶת־אַהֲרֹן וְאֶת־בָּנָיו לֵאמֹר זֹאת תּוֹרַת הָעֹלָה הִוא הָעֹלָה עַל מוֹקְדָה עַל־הַמִּזְבֵּחַ כָּל־הַלַּיְלָה עַד־הַבֹּקֶר וְאֵשׁ הַמִּזְבֵּחַ תּוּקַד בּוֹ׃ (ויקרא ו':ב)

The passage raises many difficulties due to the way it digresses from the general law of the Olah, to the Tamid, to the continual fire, to the clearing of the ashes. The important point for our purposes is that the role of the evening Tamid seems to be to engage the Mizbe'ach throughout the night. Note that unlike the passages for the other Korbanot in Parashat Tzav, there is no reference in the verse to the actual offering or preparation of the Tamid – when it is first mentioned it is already burning on the Mizbe'ach (היא העלה).

This suggests that the main objective is the presence on the Mizbe'ach more so than the offering itself. Hence it is mentioned in the same verse as the fire which needs to be continually burning upon the Mizbe'ach. The fire of the Mizbe'ach is always ready to consume and the Tamid ensures it is continually serviced.

In practice, it is possible that the Tamid may have been fully consumed before the morning. The Netziv, however, based on our verse, understood that there is a literal requirement for the Kohanim to ensure the Tamid is burnt gradually so that the process is extended throughout the night until morning:

המצוה על הכהנים שיראו שיהיו אברי העולה מונחים ונעכלים מעט מעט עד הבוקר ולא יהיו נעכלים מיד ויהא המזבח פנוי מעולה ומש״ה היה המצוה לעשות קיץ למזבח. היינו כדי שלא ישאר המזבח בלי אברי עולה: (העמק דבר, ויקרא ו':ב)

The Netziv sees this verse as the source for a special category of Korban referred to in the Mishna as 'Kayitz LaMizbe'ach'.[9] These were communal burnt offerings brought during 'downtimes' to ensure the Mizbe'ach was never left vacant.

Tamid – continuous or regular?

The term 'Tamid' attaches itself to various services in the Mishkan and can mean either something continuous or regular/consistent. The Tamid requirement of the Lechem HaPanim, for example, is a continuous requirement, to the extent that the majority view of Chazal held that the table could not be vacant of bread even for a brief moment.[10] On the other hand, the Menorah had to be kindled daily (or twice daily according to some) and this regularity seems to fulfil the basic Tamid requirement in that context. According to many sources, however, the Menorah (or at least one lamp) was kept burning continuously as well.[11]

Indeed, it is worth reflecting on whether a regular act is simply a means to an end to ensure continuity or whether each repetition holds independent value. Was the Menorah lit daily to simply ensure continuity or was there an objective importance to the daily act of lighting? Theoretically, if the lamps of the Menorah would keep burning for days at a time (Chanukah?) would it be necessary to relight it every day?[12] From a practical standpoint the answer is clear. The amount of oil was calibrated to ensure that it had to be relit at least once daily which was clearly the Torah's intention.[13] Hence we may conclude that both elements are crucial.

Returning to the Korban Tamid, it is possible that it encompasses both these dimensions as well. The emphasis on continuity is highlighted in Sefer Vayikra which deals with God's constant presence amongst the nation, whilst the aspect of the Tamid which represents renewal and establishes each day as an independent Mo'ed, is highlighted in Sefer Bamidbar. Sefer Bamidbar, as already mentioned, is one long story of rebirth and renewal whereby the new generation replaces the old one and surpasses it. The new generation faces similar challenges to the old one, but the responses and solutions are different. There is continuity on the one hand; but a new encounter and a new relationship, on the other.

 

 

 

 

 

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[1] Only Rosh Chodesh is missing from the Vayikra list. Since there is no prohibition of labour, it is not regarded as one of the Mikra'ei Kodesh.

[2] Ramban (Num. 28:2, Lev. 23:2)

[3] Ramban touches on this point in his commentary to Lev. 23:2.  

[4] This is particularly relevant to understanding the location of the Parah Adumah but that is beyond the scope of this discussion.

[5] Worth noting that this model is utilised by bible critics who claim that formalistic and ritualistic elements are evidence of an independent Priestly source (known fondly as "P"). The underlying argument here accepts the striking contrast but considers it to be 'intelligent design'.  

[6] Ibn Ezra also understood that 'Mo'ado' refers specifically to the Korban Tamid. On the other hand, Ibn Ezra assumes that the term Mo'ed must entail some form of exclusivity and therefore proposes that it refers to the set time within the day (morning and evening) when the Tamid must be brought. This is not consistent with the use of the word Mo'ed in the concluding verse. In any event, the use of the term Mo'ed is striking.

[7] Rashi even suggests that the reason the Tamid is repeated in Parashat Pinchas is because the passage in Parashat Tetzaveh deals only with the Milluim period whereas our passage contains the directive for eternity. This is problematic (as the Ramban points out) since Parashat Tetzaveh already mentions that it applies le-doroteikhem.

[8] Rashi (TB Menachot 50a) explains the source for this law is the verse concerning the Korban Tamid in Parashat Tezaveh (Ex. 29:39) which is written in the context of inauguration. The consequence of this law is that although normally the evening Tamid could be brought even in the absence of the morning Tamid, this is not the case with a new Mizbe'ach which has not yet been inaugurated (see TB Menachot ad loc.).

[9] See Mishna Shekalim 4:4

[10] See TB Menachot 99b

[11] According to some, the ner ma'aravi burnt continuously by way of miracle. The Rambam himself does not reference anything miraculous about the ner maaravi (the centre lamp in his view). According to some interpreters of the Rambam, however, all the lights were meant to burn continuously and relit whenever they went out. Other Rishonim argue altogether that the command is only to light the Menorah at night.

[12] According to R' Chaim Soloveitchik (and various other Acharonim) the Rambam understood there was no Mitzvah to actively light the Menorah, only to ensure it was lit (therefore a non-Kohen could light it, see Hilkhot Bi'at HaMikdash, 9:7). For those that say the lights needed to be extinguished and relit, this poses a problem for the conventional understanding of the Chanukah miracle that the lamps of the Menorah burnt continuously for seven days. However, various sources suggest that the oil was split into eight daily portions and then lit daily (see Beit Yosef, Orach Chaim, 670:1).

[13] See Rambam (Temidin uMusafim 3:11)