Flaming Desire
Things don’t just
happen by themselves. And yet, when the Jewish people built a golden calf while
Moses was away on the mountaintop receiving the Torah from Hashem, something
very strange happened. The Midrash in this week’s Torah portion tells us that
the people threw their golden ornaments into the flames and a fully formed
golden calf emerged. Amazing! Why would such a thing happen? Surely, this must
have been an aberration. Surely, something like this could not happen again.
But wait. Let us peek
into next week’s Torah portion. Lo and behold, the same thing happens. The
people are building the Tabernacle, Hashem’s earthly Abode. The time arrives
for the construction of the golden candelabrum, the mystical symbol of wisdom
that will illuminate in the Inner Sanctum. The construction of this
transcendent vessel is exceedingly complicated, and to make matters even more
difficult, the entire candelabrum is to be made from a single ingot of gold.
Although he gives it his best effort, Moses cannot accomplish this baffling
task. Finally, Hashem tells Moses to throw the gold into the fire and the
candelabrum will emerge by itself. And this is exactly what happens. What is
the connection between these two strange phenomena? Is it coincidence that they
transpired one right after the other?
The commentators
explain that these two incidents are actually two sides of the same coin. They
both reflect the tremendous power inherent in the human will. When a person’s
heart is set on a goal, when he is consumed with a flaming desire to attain
that goal, nothing can stand in his way. Where there is a will there is way,
says the old adage.
The implication, of
course, is that human ingenuity can always discover a solution to any problem.
But it is far deeper than that. The human will generate an almost mystical
energy that can penetrate any barrier. When Moses did not return from the
mountaintop on schedule, the people were confused and disoriented, and they
instinctively turned to their old idolatrous habits for reassurance. In their
distress, they were overcome with a burning desire for the illusory comforts of
the idol worship to which they were accustomed in Egypt. This desire was so
strong, the Torah tells us, that all they had to do was throw their golden
ornaments into the fire and the golden calf emerged.
But just as the human will penetrates all barriers to attain
its sinister goals, it can also be channeled to the good. If a person is
inspired to reach for the highest spiritual goals, his very desire will
generate a mystical energy that will carry him there, one way or another. This
is what Hashem was teaching Moses. Nothing stands in the way of the indomitable
human will, not even the near impossibility of forming the intricate
candelabrum from a single piece of gold. The fire of his enthusiasm would
create the candelabrum even if his hands could not.
This was the true
reversal of the sin of the golden calf. The flaming desire to sin had generated
the abominable idol. But now Moses channeled his flaming desire in the opposite
direction, and by doing so, he created the perfect vessel of wisdom and
spiritual illumination.
A great emperor of
ancient times ruled most of the civilized world with an iron hand. After he was
assassinated, civil war broke out among his potential successors to the throne.
Both pretenders to the throne were powerful charismatic figures, and each was
able to rally many local kings and princes of the empire to his standard.
The war raged on for
several years until one of the pretenders finally emerged victorious and was
acclaimed as the new emperor. One of the kings who had fought valiantly on the
side of the loser feared for his life. He traveled to the imperial city and
pleaded for an audience with the new emperor. The audience was granted, and the
defeated king prostrated himself before the new emperor.
“What have you to say
for yourself?” declared the emperor.
“Your majesty,” said
the king, “do not look at whose friend I was but rather at what sort of friend
I was. You saw that I was a loyal and devoted friend to your rival. If you
honor me by accepting my friendship, you now know what sort of friend I will be
to you.”
The emperor smiled and
nodded. “You have spoken well, my friend. Your life is spared, and you will
retain all your lands and honors.”
In our own lives, it is important to recognize the enormous
power we hold in our own hands. We are capable of attaining any goals we pursue
with true single-minded perseverance, but sometimes we would do well to stop
and consider where we are going. Only if we channel our energies correctly and
pursue goals of enduring value can we truly enrich our lives and find true happiness
and fulfillment.
Understanding G-d’s Judgments
One of the most
persistent and troubling questions regarding the event of the Golden Calf, as
recorded in this week’s parsha, is: “How could Aharon have done what he did?”
Did he not realize the consequences of his action to himself and his family, as
well as to the people of Israel generally? After all Aharon is to be the
paradigm of Jewish priestly leadership for all generations to come.
And yet the Torah
records for us that Aharon rose from this debacle, albeit at a tragic and heavy
price to him and his family, and became revered as the ultimate High Priest of
Israel. In this, he resembles the story of Yehudah, who also inexplicably falls
into strange and unacceptable behavior and yet arises from his situation to
become the leader of the tribes of Israel and the founder of the royal house of
Jerusalem.
The Torah seems to emphasize to us the recuperative powers of
these individuals as examples for us, while dealing with their negative actions
and consequent punishments in a more indirect fashion. The Torah excuses no
sins and gives no one a free pass on one’s negative behavior.
Yet, all of the
champions of Israel have baggage associated with their stories and descriptions
of character as portrayed in the Torah. Yet, even accounting for human frailty,
the question begs itself as to the causes of Aharon’s behavior regarding the
construction of the Golden Calf. And, over the ages, the commentators to the
Torah have wrestled with and attempted to solve this problem.
I suspect that it was
Aharon’s great and unconditional love for the Jewish people that drove him to
cooperate in the construction of the Golden Calf. Moshe’s love for Israel was
also unbounded and unconditional but Aharon was incapable of Moshe’s tough love
approach. He therefore sought to mitigate the evil act that he felt was
inevitably coming and tried to soften its eventual consequences.
He was willing to
provide Israel with the excuse – “Look, Aharon was with us and he participated
in the Golden Calf, so it was not entirely our fault, and it could not have
been that bad.” There is a concept in
Judaism called aveirah lishmah – a sin committed knowingly but for a higher
purpose, for the sake of Heaven itself, so to speak.
A sin committed for the sake of the eventual salvation of the
Jewish people from destruction is still a sin – but it has a moral content to
it that allows the sinner to rise and recover after participating in that sin.
Aharon’s love of Israel, in this case misplaced and exaggerated, was
nevertheless the cause of his redemption and of his becoming the High Priest of
Israel for all history.
Such an insight aids in
understanding the complexities of personality and circumstance that this week’s
parsha occasions. It is beyond human abilities to make such reckonings and
judgments. However the Torah does allow us a glimpse as to how Heaven deals
with such issues and we should be most grateful for having that insight brought
to our knowledge and attention.
Shabat shalom,
Rabbi Berel Wein
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