The Torah records in Parshat Shelach, that when Israel left Mt. Sinai, they traveled for three consecutive days, and describes how Israel began to grumble at the inconvenience. The urgency in moving them quickly was based on God’s desire to lead Israel into the land of Israel as quickly as possible, and his motives were dictated by the boundless love that he bore His chosen people, whom He wanted to see settled in the chosen land without delay. Yet that is not what they perceived. They grumbled because of the travails of the journey. Doubtlessly, they ascribed to Hashem an indifference to their well-being and comfort, as indeed we find on other occasions, when they accused Him of taking them out of Egypt without caring as to what happened to them (and worse). And the same is probably true of the complaint that follows immediately, when they grumbled that they were sick of the manna.
In this week’s Parshah too, the spies discovered that wherever they went, a plague struck down the Cana’anim and they were dying in large numbers. They concluded that the air of the land of Israel was unhealthy and prone to breeding plagues. They failed to see (or perhaps they did not want to see), that the Divine Hand was at work, protecting them, preventing their discovery by keeping the Cana’anim too busy to notice them, or at least, to be concerned with their presence. In this way, Hashem reckoned, they would be able to go about spying the land without hindrance. Yet they misconstrued Hashem’s chesed, mistaking His loving care for hatred. The verse in Devarim (1:20) describes how Israel grumbled that night in their tents, how they declared that it was due to God’s hatred of Israel that He took them out of Egypt, to deliver them into the hands of the Ammorites to destroy them. In fact, Rashi comments, He loved them, and it was they who hated Him! And he goes on to quote a famous folk-saying ‘What a person thinks about his friend, he believes that his friend thinks about him’. Presumably, this saying is based on the verse in “ke’Mayim ha’ponim le’ponim” (Mishlei 27:19).
The Zohar attributes the spies’ prejudice to the fear that, once they entered Israel, the old constitution would end, and a new era would begin, incorporating new leaders, who would replace them. Presumably, that is also what prompted them to renounce Hashem as a hater. In order to misconstrue Hashem’s motives in His interrelationship with us, it is not necessary to be guided by personal prejudices (though it does help). All that is needed is a lack of appreciation: a) of Hashem’s extreme goodness; b) of the fact that He loves all his people, and c) the extent of that love.
And you shall not go astray after your hearts and after your eyes… and you will be holy to your God” (ibid.). In spite of the fact that the Torah is addressing people who are prone to serve idols and to commit adultery, the verse nevertheless concludes with an injunction to be holy. It appears, remarked the Chofetz Chayim that no matter how low a Jew sinks, the Torah not only considers him capable of pulling himself out of the mire and of becoming a holy person, but that it actually expects him to do just that. But one could also explain the verse, not so much to stress the potential of a Jew, but to stress the power of mitzvot in general, and the mitzvah of Tzitzis in particular. Man’s body comprises the same components as an animal – to whose level he can sink without much effort. His soul has the make-up of an angel – to whose level he can rise, but only through hard work. To achieve this, God gave us the medium of mitzvot. What the Torah is teaching us here is that the mitzvot in general, and above all, the mitzvah of Tzitzis, will not only prevent us from sinking to the level of an animal (which instinctively follows its heart and eyes), but even have the power to raise us to the greatest heights, to make us holy like the angels.
Devorah Abenhaim
