This week, B’ezrat Hashem, we will read Parshat Shelach, which opens with the topic of sending the spies, an episode which led to consequences of weeping for generations:
The whole community broke into loud cries, and the people wept that night.
Chazal in the Gemara (Ta’anit 29a) state: Hakadosh Baruch Hu said, “They wept a weeping for no reason, and I will establish for them a weeping for generations.” I would like to briefly discuss this story of the spies and from there address the current events and issues on all our minds.
Why is Parshat Shelach Juxtaposed with Parshat Miriam?
Chazal, as quoted by Rashi from the Midrash Tanchuma, ask why Parshat Shelach, concerning the spies, is juxtaposed with Parshat Miriam – namely, the story of Miriam found at the end of last week’s Parsha. It is because Miriam was afflicted due to the slander she spoke against her brother, and these wicked ones – i.e., the spies – saw this yet did not heed a lesson. Therefore, this Parsha of the spies is juxtaposed. They should have learned from what happened to Miriam and Aharon, that Miriam received Tzara’at and was in quarantine for a week, so they should have learned not to speak Lashon Hara. These are the words of Chazal.
The question that anyone reading this asks is: At first glance, it is not clear what Rashi is asking here? Why are Chazal in Midrash Tanchuma trying to explain the juxtaposition of two events in the Torah? Did they not occur back-to-back? Immediately after Miriam spoke against Moshe Rabbeinu, she was confined for a week, and then the spies set out on their mission. So says the Gemara: On the 22nd of Sivan, she spoke against Moshe Rabbeinu; she was then confined from the 22nd to the 29th, and on 29th of Sivan, the spies were sent.
It turns out that one event followed another. So why ask why it is juxtaposed? It is juxtaposed because Miriam’s episode ended, and then they sent the spies to scout Eretz Yisrael. So, what is the question about the juxtaposition? When events are unrelated, you ask why they are juxtaposed, but if one event follows another, why ask about the juxtaposition?
At first glance, the question is unclear. Some suggest that in between the story of Miriam and the spies, there was also Parshat Korach. But this seems to be contradicted by many sources, and it doesn’t align for a simple reason: Rashi, in Parshat Masei, when the Torah lists the forty-two journeys of Bnei Yisrael in the desert, states:
They journeyed from Chatzerot and camped in Ritmah.
The place where Miriam spoke against Moshe Rabbeinu was called Chazerot. From there, they moved to the wilderness of Paran. Thus, if it is written that Bnei Yisrael journeyed from Chazerot and encamped in Ritmah, what is Ritmah? Rashi writes: Ritmah is named after the lashon hara of the spies. Why is it called Ritmah?
What can you profit, what can you gain, deceitful tongue? A warrior’s sharp arrows, with hot coals of broom-wood.
The place called Ritmah is associated with the coals of broom. Thus, if it is written that they journeyed from Chazerot and encamped in Ritmah, it means the lashon hara of the spies came afterward, not before. This is the first proof. The second proof is that Datan and Aviram, as we will read B’ezrat Hashem next week in Parshat Korach, say to Moshe Rabbeinu in the dispute of Korach and his assembly:
Is it but a pittance that you have brought us up from a land flowing with milk and honey to kill us in the desert, that you must exercise power over us to make yourself powerful as well?
When was it decreed that they would die in the desert? Only after the sin of the spies. If you say Korach’s episode came first, where did he and his gang get the idea of “to kill us in the desert”? It indicates that the spies’ episode preceded it. These are the facts before us.
The Ramban’s Explanation
The Ramban, in next week’s Parsha, writes: Why did Korach suddenly launch his dispute? Rashi explains that he was jealous of the appointment of Elitzaphan ben Uziel, and thus he rebelled. But why now? The appointment of Elitzaphan happened long ago. Why was he suddenly jealous now? He was also jealous that Moshe Rabbeinu appointed his brother Aharon, but again – why act on it only now? The Ramban explains that if Korach had come to dispute Moshe before the sin of the spies, they would have stoned him. Why? Bnei Yisrael were completely devoted to Moshe Rabbeinu; no one dared say a word against him. He had nullified the decree of Cheit Ha’Eigel, and everyone admired him greatly, with no one daring to speak against him.
But now, the Ramban says, after the sin of the spies, Moshe Rabbeinu failed to nullify the harsh decree, and Bnei Yisrael were sentenced to perish in the desert. The Ramban explains that Bnei Yisrael were in a low state of mind as a result, knowing they would not enter Eretz Yisrael. They were broken and crushed, especially those from twenty to sixty years of age who understood they would be buried in the desert. Their morale was terrible. Here, Korach found an opportunity, says the Ramban, to seize upon the sorrow and distress of Bnei Yisrael to wage war. It follows that the entire Parsha of Korach came only after the spies. Thus, it doesn’t align that the episode of Korach occurred between the Lashon Hara of Miriam and the sending of the spies.
This seems puzzling. The question asked – why is the Parsha of the spies juxtaposed with the Parsha of Miriam? – is truly perplexing. At first glance, it is a sequential event: Miriam’s episode ended, and then the spies’ episode followed. Why does Rashi ask about the juxtaposition? Chazal provide an answer: these wicked ones saw and did not learn.
Interestingly, Rashi calls them wicked even before they set out. Rashi writes that they were all prominent men, heads of Bnei Yisrael, and “men” indicates stature and importance. Rashi says that at that moment, they were righteous. Yet here, at the outset, Rashi calls them wicked before they even did anything. Perhaps they were called wicked because of their end, but we certainly need to understand what is the underlying yesod here.
Learning from Miriam’s Punishment
Another question that should be asked: Why should they have taken heed from what happened to Miriam? The Gemara (Arachin 15a) cites a teaching from Rabbi Eliezer ben Parta:
From where do we derive this? From the punishment received by the spies. And if one who defames the wood and rocks of Eretz Yisrael received such a severe punishment, then with regard to one who defames another person, all the more so will he be punished severely.
He says: Learn from the spies who spoke about inanimate objects and received punishment, so one who speaks about a person would receive even greater punishment! But there is a problem here, as this is the opposite of what occurred. Learning from the punishment for speaking about a person and applying it to speaking about Eretz Yisrael doesn’t seem to fit this Kal Vachomer (a fortiori inference). This is a question asked in Sefer Apiryon, written by Rav Shlomo Ganzfried, author of the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch.
Rav Ganzfried illuminates this point with great insight. A wonderful idea appears in the words of Chazal and we need to understand the Kal Vachomer presented. Miriam spoke against Moshe Rabbeinu, who is called “Ish Elokim” (man of G-d). Chazal say: from his middle upward, G-d; from his middle downward, a man. He is not an ordinary person; Moshe Rabbeinu is something entirely different. Chazal say that the claim against Miriam, even if she had questions about Moshe Rabbeinu’s conduct – as we will soon see what Miriam wanted – still applies. The Rambam writes in his commentary on Pirkei Avot, that a person must judge his fellow favorably. He explains that if a person is known as a righteous, renowned individual with good deeds, and he does something that appears bad from every angle, and one can only justify it with difficulty, one should choose that possibility and not suspect him, even if it requires great effort.
As the Pnei Menachem of Gur once said: Why does it say, “Judge every person favorably” with the language of a spoon (kaf) and not “to the fork of merit”? Why specifically “kaf” (spoon)? He explained that it doesn’t mean a spoon for eating, but rather a shoehorn. When you can’t fit your foot into a shoe, you use a shoehorn to force it in. So too, you must force yourself to judge favorably. The Rambam writes that if there is a great Jew like Moshe Rabbeinu, even if Miriam had questions, she should have judged him favorably. Moreover, Chazal say that one who disputes his teacher is as if he disputes the Shechinah, as seen in the dispute of Korach against Moshe Rabbeinu:
In their contention against Hashem.
Chazal say that one who quarrels with his teacher is as if he quarrels with the Shechinah, as we find written:
They are the waters of strife where Bnei Yisrael contended with Hashem.
One who complains against his teacher is as if he complains against the Shechinah, as Moshe Rabbeinu said:
Your complaints are not against us but against Hashem.
And one who doubts his teacher is as if he doubts the Shechinah, as it says:
And the people spoke against G-d and Moshe.
On the other hand, the Mechilta in Parshat Beshalach states:
Those who doubt the faith of the sages begin to cast off the yoke of Heaven. Chazal say: The awe of your teacher should be like the awe of Heaven. The Torah says: You shall fear Hashem your G-d, to which Chazal says this includes Torah scholars.
So how can you compare Miriam speaking against Moshe Rabbeinu to speaking about trees and stones? Here we are talking about one who doubts their teacher, Moshe Rabbeinu, the peak of humanity. Where is the similarity to Eretz Yisrael, that these wicked ones should have seen heeded a lesson?
Another question must be asked: What was Miriam’s punishment for speaking lashon hara? She became afflicted with Tzara’at, and Bnei Yisrael waited for her for seven days. The spies who spoke lashon hara had their tongues extend to their navels, and worms went back and forth from them. Chazal ask why this unique punishment, and answer it is because they used the power of the worm. What is the power of the worm? Its mouth. Chazal compare Knesset Yisrael to a worm: Just as a worm’s strength is in its mouth, so too Knesset Yisrael’s strength is in its mouth.
How do you compare this to Miriam’s lashon hara? If you learn a Kal Vachomer that the spies should have learned from Miriam, they should have received Tzara’at, just as she did. What did they receive? They all died in a plague on the 17th of Elul. What is the lesson here?
In Sefer Apiryon, Rav Ganzfried offers an explanation, and from there, B’ezrat Hazhem, we will begin our discussion of what is occurring around us at this time. He writes that when a person speaks lashon hara, it comprises two parts: a sin bein Adam LaMakon – between man and Hakadosh Baruch Hu – and a sin bein Adam L’Chaveiro – between man and his fellow. When you speak about a person, you harm two things: Firstly, Hakadosh Baruch Hu forbids speaking lashon hara, and secondly, you harm your fellow. When you speak lashon hara about trees and stones, they don’t feel pain or shame, but the issue is that Hakadosh Baruch Hu forbids it. Thus, you sin only bein Adam LaMakom.
Rav Ganzfried asks: Where is the Kal Vachomer? The spies did not heed a lesson – but from what should they have done so? When speaking about a person, there is both a sin between man and Hakadosh Baruch Hu and between man and his fellow. When speaking about trees and stones, it is only between man and G-d. Where is the point of learning? He answers: We read last week that the Torah testifies about Moshe Rabbeinu:
The man, Moshe was most humble, more so than any other person on the face of the earth.
Moshe considered himself as nothing, saying:
And we are what?
He equated himself to dust, as if he is like nothing; there is no sin between man and his fellow because he feels nothing and considers himself nothing. Here, Rav Ganzfried says, is the Kal Vachomer: The spies saw what happened to Miriam, who spoke against Moshe Rabbeinu, where only the aspect of bein Adam LaMakom applied because Moshe did not consider himself anything and was not harmed by her words. The harm was only to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, who forbids lashon hara. Thus, one who speaks lashon hara about Eretz Yisrael harms only Hakadosh Baruch Hu, as trees and stones feel no pain. This is the Kal Vachomer.
Midrash and the Mashal of the King and His Son
I would like to delve into a Midrash found in Parshat Shelach (Bamidbar Rabbah 16:6): To what were Bnei Yisrael likened when the spies slandered the land of Israel? To a king who arranged a match for his son with a beautiful, virtuous, and wealthy woman. The king told his son, “My dear son, precious prince, I found you a perfect match. A bonboniera! A good family, wealthy, and beautiful!” The son said, “Father, I will go and see her.” Why does he need to see her? His father says she is the most beautiful in the world, but he did not believe his father! The father said she was good, but he didn’t believe him, thinking, “Maybe she’s ugly or lives on welfare.” He wanted to see what she brought – perhaps she’d arrive on a scooter instead of a driving a Tesla! The king was displeased. “If I tell my son I found the best match, meaning I am bequeathing you the kingdom, and you don’t believe me?” Nonetheless, the king concluded, “If I tell him not to go, he’ll think she’s ugly, poor, and not virtuous,” so we told his son, “Go see her, but you won’t marry her. I will only give her to your son.”
What is the meaning of this Midrash? What does it mean, “I will give her to your son”? If the prince is, say, 22 or 25, and the king found him a match, how can he give her to his son if he isn’t even married yet? Does it mean he’ll marry someone else and have a son and the king will then wait for that child to grow up? Would this virtuous woman wait that entire time? I haven’t seen anyone question this Midrash, but an explanation occurred to me, perhaps far-fetched. Maybe the prince was divorced or widowed, already had children, and now the king found him a new wife. The king said, “You don’t want her? Fine, I’ll marry her to your son, my grandson.”
The application of this Mashal is Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Bnei Yisrael, “I have a wonderful land – beautiful, virtuous, and rich.” They didn’t believe Him though, saying, “I want to see it. Maybe it’s not good.” Hakadosh Baruch Hu said, “If I tell them not to go, they’ll think the land is bad,” so He told them, “Go, but you won’t enter it. Only your children will.” This is the meaning of the Midrash.
Ohr HaTorah’s Analysis of the Mashal
In the sefer Ohr HaTorah, the author examines this Midrash closely, asking how the analogy fits. The prince wanted to see the woman to decide if he liked her. Beauty is, after all, subjective. But the spies, even before setting out, intended to slander the land. They didn’t want to enter it, as Chazal expound, because they feared losing their leadership roles. So where is the similarity?
Another question: the prince wasn’t punished for wanting to see her; he was just told he wouldn’t marry her. But the spies who spoke lashon hara were punished severely. So how does the analogy fit?
B’ezrat Hashem, I want to preface with the words of the Maharsha (Sotah 34b). The Gemara says:
Send for yourself men.
Rashi explains this to mean “according to your discretion; I am not commanding you.” But at face value, Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Moshe to send spies. The Gemara asks: Does a person choose a bad portion for himself? If Hakadosh Baruch Hu sends someone to scout the land, could it result in calamity? It’s impossible. The Gemara then quotes Moshee Rabbeinu:
And the matter was good in my eyes.
In his eyes, but not in the eyes of Hakadosh Baruch Hu. The Maharsha explains, Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Moshe, “Send for yourself men.” How many is “men”? Two, as the minimum plural is two. Hakadosh Baruch Hu meant two spies, as is standard for scouting missions. For example, in Parshat Chukat, Moshe sent spies to scout Yazer and its daughters; Targum Yonatan ben Uziel says he sent only Kalev and Pinchas. Furthermore, in this week’s Haftarah, Yehoshua also sends two spies, Kalev and Pinchas. When sending spies, you send two. Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Moshe to send two spies to scout the land, but the people demanded a representative from each tribe. Imagine the Mossad sending spies to Iran: one Ashkenazi, one Polish, one Romanian, one Yemenite, one Persian. Spies are sent in pairs, or sometimes even just one. But twelve spies? That’s a tour group, not a scouting mission!
Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Moshe to send two spies to determine the entry point, as it’s a requirement before war, as written in Mishlei:
A horse is prepared for the day of battle, but victory is with Hashem.
Rabbeinu Bachya explains that Shlomo HaMelech warns that one must do everything naturally possible and leave the rest to Heaven; a miracle occurs only where nature is lacking. Man is built on natural measures, so he must prepare to achieve his goals; for war, one prepares weapons, horses, and chariots. Relying solely on miracles leads to defeat. Similarly, for a sick person, you prepare remedies and proper food, avoiding harmful foods. After doing all you can naturally, you rely on Hakadosh Baruch Hu. The Torah commands Bnei Yisrael to prepare for war, set ambushes, and send spies, as these are natural preparations. Then, miracles complement natural efforts.
Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Moshe to send two spies, but each tribe demanded a representative, and Moshe agreed, sending twelve. The Maharsha says Hakadosh Baruch Hu knew their intentions – they didn’t go to find an entry point but to question whether the land was good, doubting Hakadosh Baruch Hu’s word.
Man sees with the eyes, but Hashem sees the heart.
Moshe thought, “Why not? Let Reuven go, let Shimon go, let Zevulun go.” But Hakadosh Baruch Hu saw their true intentions. He said, “I told you to send two, not twelve.” Some Midrashim even suggest twenty-four spies – an entire bus, not a minibus, touring Israel’s beautiful sites. Hakadosh Baruch Hu meant two spies, but their intention was to judge the land’s quality, which Moshe didn’t realize. Thus, he said, “The matter was good in my eyes.” A nice trip with all the tribes, fostering a sense of togetherness. Even in the shelters and safe rooms everyone sits together united! But Hakadosh Baruch Hu knew their true intentions. As the Maharsha explains, the mistake began when they deviated from sending two spies, as was the norm, to sending twelve, turning it into a misguided expedition, challenging the word of Hakadosh Baruch Hu.
This means that this is the way of war, as Rabbeinu Bachya says: A horse is prepared for battle, but salvation belongs to Hashem. If so, B’ezrat Hashem, let us see. The king said to his son, “This land is good. This maiden is good.” A good maiden, from a good family, wealthy, everything is perfectly fine. What did the king’s son say to him? He said, “I want to see her.” Why? He did not believe that the king had chosen her for him; and the same was true with the spies.
Just as the king’s son said, “I don’t believe it, perhaps my father is deceiving me,” so too with the spies. Ohr HaTorah says that if the spies had truly said, “We only want to enter to know from where to conquer,” that would have been their purpose and there’d have been no complaint. However, Hakadosh Baruch Hu said, “They do not want to know from where to conquer, as Pinchas and Kalev did when they spied on Yericho. Rather, they want to slander this land.” Therefore, He said, “You will not merit it, only your children will.”
The question arises: What was the punishment they received, that their tongue went to their navel? Seemingly, it would have been enough for the punishment to match the crime. What did Miriam receive? She received Tzara’at, but she did not receive more than that. She received Tzara’at and was confined for seven days. What is the yesod here?
I want to bring a wonderful idea from Ohr HaTorah, based on Tanna debei Eliyahu Zuta.
For the portion of Hashem is His people, Yaakov is the lot of His inheritance. Also: The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, my inheritance is beautiful to me.
The Tanna debei Eliyahu gives a parable of a mortal king who builds a palace. He constructed the palace, perfected it, and made it, so to speak, joyful, with the building complete. He looked at it and was very happy. He rejoiced in it, placed decorations in it, renovated it, and made it his home. So too, says the Midrash, this is the reward of the...
