Reaching Our Potential: Behaalotecha

Reaching Our Potential:  Behaalotecha

D’var Torah by Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

When the Israelites were wanderers in the Sinai Wilderness, lighting the Temple’s menorah was no simple matter.  In fact, it was an exacting ritual.  Crafted out of a solid block of gold, the seven-branched lampstand must have been an impressive sight to behold.  Its glow was luminous and brilliant.   Clean-burning olive oil provided the fuel, and the flames represented God’s eternal light.

As God’s first act of Creation, light for us is a symbol of all that is holy.  In this portion (Behaalotecha, Numbers 8:1-12:16), it becomes Aaron’s responsibility to kindle the menorah’s lights.

Flames can dance and glow cheerfully, but flames can also blaze out of control.  An unsteady hand could spill the precious oil, and the light, instead of being raised, could be profaned and desecrated.  It took unwavering self-control to pour just the right the amount of oil, to light the menorah precisely as instructed and maintain its flames just so.

And “just so” is precisely how Aaron performed the sacred task he was given.

Thus begins one of the most complex portions of the whole Torah.  It weaves many threads into its storyline.  There are moments of exultation and rejoicing; but there are also moments of failure, both personal and communal.  Inspiration alternates with jealousy.  The sacred often conflicts with the secular.

Just like in real life!

But there is also a common lesson that runs throughout the portion, appearing already in its title.  Behaalotecha doesn’t only mean to kindle lights.  It describes a lifting or raising motion.  Rashi explains that Aaron is “required to kindle the lamp until the flame rises by itself.”  By this, Rashi teaches that this ritual is more than a simply physical act.  By giving it more time and careful attention, Aaron more than kindles the lights; he enables the flame to shine freely on its own.  Great teacher of Torah that he was, Rashi saw lighting the menorah as equivalent to raising and teaching children.  At first, they need loving, patient teachers.  Later, as the children grow and mature, they master their craft and can even excel at it on their own.  For Rashi, the menorah becomes symbol for education, and Aaron’s ritual becomes the sacred act of teaching, which elevates not only the student but also the teacher. 

Next in line to be elevated in Behaalotecha are the Levites. 

For reasons not given in this portion, the tribe of Levi is chosen from all the other tribes of Israel to perform the sacred duties associated with the Tabernacle.  Behaalotecha describes the ritual by which the Levites are symbolically offered to God.  No human sacrifice here, however.  What is asked of the Levites is not that they give up their lives, but rather that they dedicate and devote their life to serving God and the People of Israel.

It is a sacred task for which they must be elevated through ritual and purification.

Time is elevated next.  Daily routines can make us forget our larger purpose in life.  So as never to take for granted the time we’ve been granted on this world, we are taught to elevate time, to celebrate its special occasions and junctures.  As an example of how we sanctify time, Behaalotecha devotes a good number of verses to the laws of Passover.  Set aside as a festival of commemoration, this holiday is more than just about taking time off from work. Passover is about making our time on earth count.  It is more than about liberation from slavery (a “dayeinu” moment in itself).  Passover is also about commitment; it’s about the oath we took at Sinai and which we try to fulfill to this day: to try to meet God’s expectation and build a society founded on justice, freedom and compassion.  Passover is about elevating life from a state of mere existence, about making time and life sacred.

However, Behaalotecha would fail if it only showed us how to turn the ordinary into something special.  It is that much harder to rise up again after a fall.   Dedicating ourselves to God can makes us holy, but we are only human, and as such are weak and prone to failure.  Aaron’s hand and heart may have been steady and faithful; not so, however, are ours.  Behaalotecha offers several examples of how people fail.  There are failures of prejudice and jealousy.  There are failures of faith.  And there is also ingratitude, the failure to show appreciation for the blessings in our life.

Manna, provided to the Israelites by God on a daily basis, is described by the Torah as being sweet as honey, crystal clear and lighter than dew.  In this portion, however, the people grow weary of manna and give in to a craving for meat.  Complaining about their harsh desert existence, they remember only the good about their previous life in Egypt.  They forget about the slavery, the harsh decrees and the killing of their babies.  The people only recall the vegetables, the fruit and the variety of fish that they ate in Egypt “for free.”

When, in answer to their complaining, God provides quail for them to eat, many of the people rashly give in to lust and revert to eating the birds raw. 

It is a deep fall that they experience, from the heights of exultation to this terrible moment of blood and gore.

Behaalotecha teaches us how to rise again after such terrible failures.  There are consequences, yes, but forgiveness and redemption are possible too, when we turn our gaze once again to the lofty goals and aspirations that the Torah teaches us.

Moses has faith in God and Israel as he tries to raise the light of faith within us once again.  He gathers 70 elders, individuals chosen from the masses for the respect in which they are held, for their honesty, righteousness and compassion.  They are to be his assistants in leading the people, in teaching them and in instilling in them moral values.  At the instruction of God, Moses brings these elders close to the Tent of Meeting, where, in the sight of the entire people, they all begin to prophesy—to speak God’s words.

All that is, except for two of the seventy, Eldad and Meidad, two young men who, for some unknown reason, remain in camp while all the others join Moses.  Yet, despite their physical distance, Eldad and Meidad begin to prophesy along with the other elected few.

Joshua, Moses’ assistant, urges Moses to arrest Eldad and Meidad as rebels and impostors.  But Moses, true to his humble nature, gently chides Joshua:  “Are you so jealous on my behalf??  May all Israel be prophets!” 

Even after all that Moses has seen, after all the moral, spiritual and physical failures that he has witnessed, Moses’s faith in God and Israel remains intact and strong.  “May all Israel be prophets!”  In his mind’s eye, he sees the flame uplifted, burning on its own.  It is a vision of a far-away future, to be sure, yet one that Moses is certain his people will one day reach. He knows the wondrous potential they can reach.  He has seen the sacred flame glow within them and he knows the flame can once again be stoked just so, just as Aaron did when he lit the Temple menorah on that day in the Wilderness, with an unwavering hand and a steady heart.

It is our faith that elevates us.  From the ordinary creatures of flesh and blood that we truly are, our spiritual journey leads us ever upward.  No matter how many times we fail, we are given the tools to get up time and again, to raise ourselves as we raise others, to devote and dedicate ourselves time and again to the higher goals that God has set for us and that we, so long ago, accepted as our own.  It is the Torah’s highest teaching.

© 2014 by Boaz D. Heilman