The topic in this week’s Parsha that grabs most focus is the tochecha – the admonition, or rebuke. The tochecha – the shorter of two such sections found in the Torah, alongside the 98 curses found in Parshat Ki Tavi – is filled with graphic descriptions of the punishments issued when the ways of the Torah are not followed. The section it follows is of the opposite nature, detailing the berachot we’ll see when following the ways of the Torah, a section that begins with the letter alef and ends with taf (אִם־בְּחֻקֹּתַי תֵּלֵכוּ... וָאוֹלֵךְ אֶתְכֶם קוֹמְמִיּוּת). The Gemara (Bava Batra 88b) points out that the attributes of Hakadosh Baruch Hu are different than those of mankind. He blessed us with berachot that covered twenty-two letters, whereas the curses that followed spanned only eight letters (וְאִם־לֹא תִשְׁמְעוּ לִי... וְגָעֲלָה נַפְשִׁי אֶת־חֻקֹּתַי). In Parshat Ki Tavo, however, Moshe Rabbeinu blessed Bnei Yisrael with eight letters (וְהָיָה אִם שָׁמוֹעַ תִּשְׁמַע... לַעֲבֹד אֶת־ה') and cursed them with twenty-two (וְהָיָה אִם לֹא תִשְׁמַע... וְאֵין קֹנֶה).
Rav Chaim Paltiel, in Chidushei Rav Chaim Paltiel, points out there are sixty words in the berachot of our Parsha, along with sixty letters in Birkat Kohanim. The former, he says, has conditions attached to it. The section begins with alef and ends with taf, indicating that if one follows the Torah from alef to taf, they’ll merit the berachot that follow. The latter, however, has no strings attached. We’ll always receive the Birkat Kohanim regardless of our deservedness. Why is it that the latter comes with no conditions? It is as a result of Zechut Avot – the merits of our forefathers. This is hinted to in our Parsha’s opening letters – אִם־בְּחֻקֹּתַי תֵלֵכוּ – which spell out אָבוֹת according to the Ba’al HaTurim, and which links the opening word of Birkat Kohanim – כֹּה תְבָרֲכוּ אֶת־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל – with the acts of Avraham and Yitzchak at Akeidat Yitzchak: כֹּה וַאֲנִי וְהַנַּעַר נֵלְכָה עַד. Therefore, towards the end of the tochecha, we find the following Pasuk:
וְזָכַרְתִּי אֶת־בְּרִיתִי יַעֲקוֹב וְאַף אֶת־בְּרִיתִי יִצְחָק וְאַף אֶת־בְּרִיתִי אַבְרָהָם אֶזְכֹּר וְהָאָרֶץ אֶזְכֹּר׃
I will then remember My covenant with Yaacov and also My covenant with Yitzchak and also My covenant with Avraham, I will remember and I will remember the land.
This Pasuk is not to be mistaken with a similar one that follows three Pesukim later: וְזָכַרְתִּי לָהֶם בְּרִית רִאשֹׁנִים. The former is still part of the tochecha, and not part of the consolation that follows, says the Shelah HaKadosh, based on the Pasuk that immediately follows still being of rebuke: וְהָאָרֶץ תֵּעָזֵב מֵהֶם – The land also shall be forsaken by them. The Pasuk referencing the covenant with the Avot is also part of the tochecha, as explained by a simple parable. A criminal who grew up in a house of criminals will be spoken to differently in court than a defendant who grew up with the best of parents, education, role models, and living conditions. Theft is something fully expected of the former, as it’s all they know, and a judge will aptly speak to them with a trace of pity and compassion in their voice. The latter, however, will receive the judge’s full ire, as they exhibited unexpected behavior totally unfitting given their upbringing. The same is true of us, the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaacov. As part of the tochecha, Hakadosh Baruch Hu tells us, “I know where you come from and who your ancestors are! I know what holy land you grew up in!” We weren’t raised by thieves in Sweden and this statement amplifies the claim against us and increases its severity. Sefer Yalkut HaEzovi adds, it is of note that this Pasuk also contains sixty letters, hinting to Birkat Kohanim, and that within the entire section of berachot there is no instance of the letter ס (60). He explains this to mean that all the blessings will be delivered on condition of following the Torah from alef to taf, except for the blessings within the sixty letters of Birkat Kohanim, which are unconditional.
There is another place where the letter ס does not appear, and that is the section of בִּכּוּרִים – First Fruits. Instead, the word טֶנֶא (basket) appears, according to the Ba’al HaTurim, referencing its numerical value of sixty. I once saw a reason given for the lack of the letter ס in the section of Bikkurim, and it relates to the Satan being referred to by this letter due to its name being comprised of the letters ס-מ-א-ל. Chazal say, until Hakadosh Baruch Hu created the woman, He did not create the Satan, as the first time the letter samech appears in the Torah is in the Pasuk: וַיִּסְגֹּר בָּשָׂר תַּחְתֶּנָּה – and He closed up the flesh in its place – teaching us that the Satan was created only in tandem with woman being created. (Note: there is actually an instance of ס beforehand, in the words הוּא הַסֹּבֵב, but Chazal explain it as an exception.) As long as man did not have an עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ, a helper mate, no Yetzer Hara (evil inclination) was brought to him. As we know from the statement בָּרָאתִי יֵצֶר הָרָע וּבָרָאתִי לוֹ תּוֹרָה תַּבְלִין, the Torah was an antidote to the Yetzer Hara, but since there was no Torah given to man yet, it was his mate that served to help him stay on the path of his holy mission. Returning to the topic of Bikkurim, the act of bringing first fruits reflects man giving thanks for all he was given, and not being an ingrate. One who lives in constant appreciation for what he is given will not sin because one’s appreciation of Hakadosh Baruch Hu is at peak levels, and it becomes impossible to transgress His wishes with the gifts of eye, mouth, and hands received.
Before shifting to the topic from which I’d like to draw our main lesson, there is a quick note to make regarding the number of curses found in our Parsha: 49. This number is learned from Rashi, based on the Midrash (Tanchuma, Nitzavim), who says that after hearing a total of 147 curses (49 in Bechukotai and 98 in Ki Tavo), Bnei Yisrael turned to Moshe Rabbeinu in tremendous fear, asking who could possibly survive such rebuke and warning. Moshe Rabbeinu responded with words of solace and support: אַתֶּם נִצָּבִים הַיּוֹם כֻּלְּכֶם – You stand this day, all of you. His message was simple: “You angered Hakadosh Baruch Hu many times and in severe ways up to this day, yet here you are, still standing.” The number 147 also represents the number of chapters composed by David HaMelech in Tehillim, although a few were later split up to form the total number we know today – 150 (Massechet Sofrim, 16) so that reciting the entire book twice on the Yamim Noraim would result in the numerical value of כָּפֵר – atone (300).
While the topic of berachot precede the tochecha, the strange topic that follows it yields a lesson very applicable to our Avodat Hashem each and every day. Sefer Vayikra is one jam-packed with Mitzvot. Just last week we read sixty-three Mitzvot, and fifty-one Mitzvot the week prior. Large amounts of Mitzvot can be found in each Parsha, and a final twelve can be found in our Parsha this week, all in the final thirty-four verses. These Mitzvot pertain to instructions on valuing individuals who make vows, with specific values based on age and gender, and rules for valuing dedicated animals, and consecrating houses and fields. For example, if a man vows to offer a gift to the Beit Hamikdash based on the estimated value of a particular person he wishes to honor, or he offers to give a gift equal to the estimated value of his wife or his child, how does he go about determining the exact amount to give? Our Parsha tells us that appraisal is based on the age and gender of the individual in question, with a schedule as to the value, in silver shekels, for each age group.
It’s worth noting the value of a man drops from 50 to 15 shekels (-70%) upon reaching the age of 60, whereas the value of a woman drops less, from 30 to 10 shekels (-66%), at the same age. Rashi, quoting the Gemara (Arachin 19a), explains why a man retains less of his value after reaching this highest age bracket:
ד ּ ְ א ָ מְ רֵ י אִ י נ ְ שׁ ֵ י: סָבָא בְּבֵיתָא, פַּחָא בְּבֵיתָא, סָבְתָא בְּבֵיתָא סִימָא בְּבֵיתָא וְסִימָנָא טָבָא בְּבֵיתָא .
Because there is a familiar saying: “An old man in the house is a nuisance in the house, an old woman in the house is a treasure in the house and a good omen in the house.”
I believe it may be a bit different now, with so many kollels open for men once they retire, to keep them busy and productive from early morning until late at night. But for men who wake up and plan their daily trip to the doctor or clinic, and who then answer, “I wasn’t feeling well,” when asked why they didn’t show up one day, the math may still be correct.
Chazal say, when Haman proposed to Achashverosh that he allow for the Jewish people to be destroyed, he submitted a quote. Haman offered the king 10,000 shekels to take care of the job. Chazal ask what sort of number that is, and the Midrash says, Haman estimated that when Bnei Yisrael left Egypt they were shishim riboh (600,000) in number, and Rabbeinu Bachya says, multiplied by fifty shekel, it results in a total of 10,000 kikar kesef. Haman didn’t do his math based on a range of values or using lower values for younger or older individuals. He took the same maximum value possible for each, the top of the line, and constructed his offer based on it. We’ll come back to this point shortly.
Following the breakdown of values for people, we’re given a similar chart to follow for animals and property, so one can know how much to give when pledging a donation equal to the value of a particular animal or possession. And following these values, we find a specific commandment:
לֹא יַחֲלִיפֶנּוּ וְלֹא־יָמִיר אֹתוֹ טוֹב בְּרָע אוֹ־רַע בְּטוֹב וְאִם־הָמֵר יָמִיר בְּהֵמָה בִּבְהֵמָה וְהָיָה־הוּא וּתְמוּרָתוֹ יִהְיֶה־קֹדֶשׁ׃
He shall not alter it, nor change it, a good for a bad, or a bad for a good: and if he shall at all change beast for beast, then it and its substitute shall be holy.
Even if one has good intentions, such as wishing to upgrade their donation by replacing the original animal with a larger healthier one, they are forbidden from doing so. And should they attempt to do so, both the original and new animal are considered consecrated to the Beit Hamikdash, and both are off-limits to the owner. And an owner can decide they want their pledged property back, but they must pay a penalty – i.e., they must pay 20% more than the value determined by the Kohen, which is the amount someone else would buy that animal or property or field for (with the money then going to the Beit Hamikdash).
The final topic of valuation in our Parsha is that of מַעֲשֵׂר בְּהֵמָה – the animals an owner must donate to the Beit Hamikdash based on the number of new animals birthed that year. The manner in which this is done is of importance. The animals are all lined up inside the pen and their mothers just outside. When the mothers makes a noise, each of the children walk over to approach her, one by one. As they pass through the door, the owner counts them, and upon reaching the number ten, he gives a bang with his stick and that animal is marked. What happens if one of those counted jumps back into the pen? What happens if fifty sheep have already passed, and there are one hundred still to go, but one of the already-counted sheep jumped back into the flock of uncounted sheep? The Gemara says (Bava Metzia 6b), all those in the pen are now all exempt because each of them could be the animal that was already counted. This raises the question – why can the owner not simply set aside fifteen sheep and take them to Yerushalayim? When the farmer has twenty apples, they don’t line them up and count them one by one, setting aside the tenth and twentieth. It’s must simpler – they take all their apples, weigh them, and hand over a tenth of that value. Why is this whole process and procession needed when it comes to animals? Chazal provide a scary answer to this question.
Apples are easy, but man has a difficult time separating out animals. He raised them, fed them, cared for them, and now the time came for him to give them away. To ask him to collect fifteen and load them onto a truck would be too difficult. By lining them up and counting them one by one, the Torah sets him up in a position of, “One for me, two for me, three for me, four for me... eight for me, nine for me! One for Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Wow! I have nine!” After the second wave passes, the owner says, “Two for Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and chai for me! Incredible!” This technique is a lot more palatable than grabbing a bunch and forgoing them all in one shot. And should it happen in this system that two sheep reach the owner at the same time, one newborn and barely able to walk, and the other eleven months hold and strong as can be, the owner cannot intervene and set the tiny one up to be the tenth. If he does so, both become kodesh and both are taken.
After all that, there is but one very simple question to ask: Why? Why here? Why is this section located right after the tochecha? Why after reading about big blessings and terrifying curses do we revert to twelve granular Mitzvot before closing out Sefer Vayikra? Could these Mitzvot not have fit into previous sections of Vayikra that dealt with holiness, permitted vs. forbidden animals, Korbanot and holy items brought to the Beit Hamikdash?
If you look closely at the tables provided for the value of person, according to the Ba’al HaTurim, you’ll find that all the possible values added together (50, 30, 20, 10, 5, 3, 15, 10) yield a sum of 143 shekels. He says, this is to atone for the 45 curses in Bechukotai and the 98 curses in Ki Tavo. Of note, he says our Parsha contains 45 curses, based on a Midrash (Midrash Tadsheh) and unlike the common explanation that says there are 49, a number more easily supported by the text itself. This, according to the Ba’al HaTurim, is why the topic of Arakhin (values), is placed right after the tochecha.
The Kli Yakar quotes the above answer in addressing why this section is situated here, and says, when Am Yisrael are in a precarious situation, they make vows. This is learned from Yaacov Avinu, who is considered by Chazal to be the first to make sure a pledge: וַיִּדַּר יַעֲקֹב נֶדֶר לֵאמֹר – Yaacov said, “If G-d will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go... then the Lord shall be my G-d; and this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be G-d’s house; and of all that You give me I will surely give the tenth to You.” The Kli Yakar says this is what we do. When facing peril, we pledge tzedakah and ma’asim tovim in return for being removed from danger. Unlike Yaacov though who followed through on his pledge, he says we too often abandon our word as soon as things clear up. This reminds me of the man who was in a tremendous rush to get to his important business meeting but couldn’t find a parking space. He turned to Hakadosh Baruch Hu and said, “G-d, if you help me find somewhere to park, I promise $5000 towards the local kupat ha’ir fund.” Just as he finished his proposition, a car began pulling out from its prime parking spot right next to him. Not missing a beat, the man looked back up and said, “Nevermind, G-d, I just found a spot!” That is the nature of man, says the Kli Yakar. Similarly, the Chida says, we’re told of three types of gifts that were donated by Bnei Yisrael to the Mishkan: זָהָב וָכֶסֶף וּנְחֹשֶׁת – gold, silver, and bronze. The best of the three is gold, as זָהָב stands for זֶה הַנּוֹתֵן בָּרִיא – the one who gives when healthy, when all is good in life and there is no danger or concern. Next comes silver, as כֶסֶף stands for כְּשֶׁיֵשׁ סַכָּנָה פּוֹדֶה – at first sight of danger, he offers in order to reverse his fate. Lastly, comes bronze, as נְחֹשֶׁת stands for נִמְצָה חוֹלֶה שֶׁאָמַר תְּנוּ – he’s already sick and told things look bleak, so now he decides to dip into his pocket.
The Kli Yakar says, the connection between our two sections is that when one is in danger, they make vows, although this is not the ideal way to make one’s donations. The correct type of terumah is when one has nothing driving them towards giving. No illness, no risk, no uncertainty. When everything is perfect and all one wants to give is fulfill the will of Hakadosh Baruch Hu – that is the optimal way to pledge and give.
Another answer is provided by Rav Dovid Kviat in Sukas Dovid, based on the Midrash Tanchuma. Hakadosh Baruch Hu said to Bnei Yisrael, “If you give to me your value (Arakhin), I will consider it as though you sacrificed your souls to me, and I will save you from gehenom.” A person’s value is the value of the entire body that houses their soul and what their Neshama is dependent on. By offering the value of their body, Hakadosh Baruch Hu considers it as though their soul was given and saves them from gehenom and all the curses of the tochecha. Thus, the section following the tochecha is placed there as a remedy. The Midrash says, this gift was given uniquely to Bnei Yisrael and not to the nations of the world who offer up their children sacrifices and are met with a response of: “I do not want your children nor any of your gifts” (Sanhedrin 39b). אָדָם כִּי־יַקְרִיב מִכֶּם – Vayikra opens with Korbanot, brought only by those referred to as אָדָם, and closes with Arakhin, two items Hakadosh Baruch Hu desires solely from Bnei Yisrael and not from any other nation.
After seeing these various answers there is one additional explanation I’d like to present and focus on. We’ll begin our approach to this powerful answer with a few introductions. We’ll start with a very basic question everyone must be asking themselves: How is it possible that there is a fixed value, a flat price, for all human beings? How can it be that every single man aged twenty to sixty has the identical value of fifty shekels? What sort of formula is that? Is their state of health and wellbeing not factored in? Does their education or intelligence not play a role? Why is their monetary situation irrelevant? Furthermore, what about their spiritual state? How is it that one who is learned and filled with merits from living a righteous life worth the same as one who never picked up a sefer or who ran away from every minyan and Mitzvah? Most of these things can be evaluated relatively easily, so why not leverage them? Instead, we set them aside and appraise one’s value at fifty shekels, regardless of if they know shas by heart or cannot even spell the word shas. The dishwasher, doctor, and high-tech director are each worth fifty shekels. And when they hit sixty, it goes down to fifteen regardless of if they’ve retired or still have many strong years left in them.
Another question to ask is what if someone says, “I will give the value of Putin.” How much do they owe? You all suggest it’s zero or even less, but the Mishna in Arakhin suggests otherwise. Rabbi Meir says a non-Jew is indeed valuated, whereas Rabbi Yehuda says he is not.
You’ll also recall our note regarding Haman taking the values of Bnei Yisrael and wanting to appraise them at highest value in order to eradicate them. What lies behind him making this calculation based on uniform values and connecting Arakhin to his genocidal plans?
Shemen Rosh addresses these questions and provides a truly wonderful answer as to why Sefer Vayikra did not end with the conclusion of the tochecha, despite it being a prototypically perfect Pasuk to read before shouting “chazak”: אֵלֶּה הַחֻקִּים וְהַמִּשְׁפָּטִים וְהַתּוֹרֹת אֲשֶׁר נָתַן ה' בֵּינוֹ וּבֵין בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּהַר סִינַי בְּיַד־מֹשֶׁה׃ These are the statutes, the laws and the teachings that Hashem set between Himself and between Bnei Yisrael, on Mount Sinai, through the hand of Moshe.
His idea begins through looking at how a diamond is appraised. A natural one-carat diamond, dirty inside and unfixable with lasers or other new methods, is worth a certain amount on the diamond exchange. Another diamond, lab created, may look more perfect than any natural diamond from the ground, but it too has a specific value on the exchange. There could also be a three-carat diamond worth only $500, and a .25 carat stone worth the same $500. Why is that? Are they not both diamonds? It is because value is not determined solely by carat size, but also by clarity (along with cut and color). The three-carat diamond can be appraised the same as a .25 carat stone due to their clarity and cleanliness.
Shemen Rosh asks, what happens to a clean diamond that falls into a barrel of dirt? It gets washed, wiped off, and you simply move on. We, he says, are considered like diamonds because our souls are pristine – of the utmost clarity and cleanliness. Our Neshama comes directly from under the Kiseh Hakavod and is a part of Hakadosh Baruch Hu above. אֱלֹקַי נְשָׁמָה שֶׁנָּתַתָּ בִּי טְהוֹרָה הִיא – My G-d! The soul which You bestowed in me is pure. It is pure, but sometimes it is dropped into a pile of dirt and gets soiled on the outside through sins and all sorts of bad deeds. While dirty on the outside though, it is still clean and pure on the inside – it is only the external body surrounding the Neshama that gets dirty. There are also some whose bodies surrounding the holy Neshama are purified and become cleaner by it, when they submit themselves, allowing the soul to determine the body’s actions, speech, and sight. In both cases, however, the soul itself remains the same, as clean and holy as when it was inserted into the body. As such, the value of the soul is a fixed amount, a fixed value regardless of which body houses it. The Mishnah teaches us (Pirkei Avot 4:3): אַל תְּהִי בָז לְכָל אָדָם – do not despise any man. It is forbidden for one to take the life of another when held at gunpoint and given an ultimatum, even if the one with the choice is a righteous scholar and their potential victim a lowlife criminal. We do not know whose blood is deeper red – we may know that Torah and Mitzvot run through our blood and alcohol through theirs, but we all still have the same inner value. Shemen Rosh brings an idea from Binah Le’ittim
