Skip to main content

Accept No Substitutes

Parashat Behar-Bechukotai (Revised May 8, 2026) This week's double parashah, Behar and Bechuotai, bring to a close the book of Vayikra, a book the all-consuming focus of which is, undoubtably, KEDUSHAH, holiness. The last chapter is concerned largely with the kind of vows people make in dedicating something to the service of Hashem in the Mikdash. There are many laws regulating this seemingly noble motivation and its accompanying action, but my attention was taken this time around by the following law: "If (the devoted thing) is an animal of the kind from which an offering is brought to Hashem, any one which is given to Hashem shall be kodesh . One shall not exchange it ( lo yachalifenu ) nor shall one substitute for it ( yamir oto ), good for bad or bad for good; now if one DOES substitute for it, it will be that it and its substitute will be kodesh ." Vayikra 27:10-11  This mitzvah turns out to be very curious, because one is lashed for its intentional violation...

Miles from NoWhere

Yep, time to start a new book. We just finished Vayikra, wrapped up in a tidy little package all those laws about sacrifices and the like (well, not so tidy – see last week's Pshat!), and it's time to move on.

But, to where? Where are we going? And where are we now? Oh, yeah, those last couple of parashiyot of Vayikra reminded us that, despite all the emphasis on the MIshkan and, by implication, its permanent successor, the Beit Hamikdash, we are still firmly planted at Mount Sinai. And standing (and sitting, and camping, and waiting) at Sinai, we are still dreaming of returning to a land that returns to each of us every fifty years. Marching instructions? None, yet. We're still stuck in the middle.

Indeed, Josh, my weekly Ramban chevruta, adamantly insists that we are still in Vayikra, still in a process that began toward the end of Shemot and won't come to a conclusion until Hashem "gets those doggies movin'" in Beha'alotecha, where one of B'midbar's three books – the "good" book – comes to a close and another – the "bad" book – slaps us in the face. Until then, we're still in the midst, says Josh.

All of this is true. And yet: we begin a new chumash, one which, though difficult to characterize, with its difficult to grasp interplay of narrative and halachic material - is different from Vayikra from the get-go.

So, let's start from that beginning. Here's the first verse of Bamidbar:

"And Hashem spoke to Moshe in the desert of Sinai on the first of the second month in the second year of their going out from the land of Egypt, saying..."

Last week, Hashem spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai. Now, it's the DESERT of Sinai? Is that the same place? The people haven't departed the mountain yet, so it must be. Yet if so, why change the reference from "mountain" to "desert"?

The key is to be found in the word "spoke". The place reference isn't referring to where the people are, but to whence the Divine voice emanates. Until this point, Hashem has spoken to Moshe from the top of Mt. Sinai. Now, in Bamidbar, the Divine voice comes to Moshe from between the two keruvim almost-embracing atop the aron, as promised by Hashem way back in Parashat Terumah.

The date noted in this passuk confirms this: the first of the second month. Now the entire Mishkan was made operational on the first of the FIRST month of the second year – that's the date of the passage in chapter 8 where the mitzvah of Pesach Sheni is given. ("Wait a second", you ask – "why does a passage dated "1/2/2nd from Egypt" precede one dated "1/1/2nd from Egypt"!! Ah, good question! See Ramban square off with Ibn Ezra on this question – coming up in a couple short weeks!) With the Mishkan up and running, Hashem speaks to us from that special point He's chosen as His Dwellingplace in our midst.

But why the SECOND month? Why do we not hear Hashem's guidance and instruction from that place right away upon the completion of the construction of the Mishkan? Why wait a month? The Kli Yakar has a beautiful insight. He says that since Hashem was not to "take up residence" amongst us as a "temporary lodger" but as a "permanent resident", Now permanent residence – dirat keva – is only established after a full month of residence. Only when one loony cycle of waxing and waning, of hiding and reappearance, of tzimtzum and hitpashtut is complete can the relationship proceed on a basis of trust in process. "Mommy's gone to the store but SHE'LL BE BACK", are words which reassure not only the toddler but the parent as well. Hashem wanted to reveal Himself to us from the perspective of Eternity – a perspective we didn't merit even at Mt. Sinai.

When Hashem move IN, Mt. Sinai, with all of its ephemeral florescence, the lights, the sights, the shakes and sounds and smells – reverts to desert by comparison. The nourishment, the richness, the sustenance – all comes through the channel He has establish "b'toch" – in the midst – of individual, family, tribe, people…universe. That is why, says the Or HaChaim, that midbar in our verse precedes ohel mo'ed. Just as with the designation, where the particular precedes the universal – date precedes year – likewise, and almost counterintuitively, with place: The spiritual singularity of bein shnei hakeruvim, that forever-point bounded momentarily by non-touch of the beating wings of the celestial beings approaching embrace even as they are solidly mired in the thick gold of the atonement cover – that singularity is expressive of the everflow of the The Oneness – and the desert, in all its apparent generality and receptiveness, an unmarked canvass upon which our people will paint its journey in colors of forty years and Shabbat portions, is but a particular waiting to become actualized.

As did our ancestors before us, we wander the deserts of our lives, causing them bloom with meaning by the dripping sweat of our grandest visions and apocalyptic fears. That expanse is as transversable, that bloom is as real as we allow the bein hakeruvim point to be in our lives. When we see and experience the Yes that Hashem says about us and pours into us on every level, then even in the desert, we are miles from nowhere!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Frontlet Lobotomy

The tefillin worn on the head (henceforth, “ shel rosh ”) differ in a number of respects from the tefillin worn on the arm (henceforth, “ shel yad ”). One of the differences is this: Though both must contain the four passages in the Torah which make mention of the mitzvah of tefillin, the shel yad has all four passages written on a single parchment, in the order they appear in the Torah, rolled up and placed in the single compartment of the shel yad . The shel rosh , however, is constructed such that it has four small compartments side by side. Though these compartments appear to be tightly bound to one another, in fact, they are almost actually completely separate from one another. They only join at a common base, like the fingers of one’s hand. Into each compartment is placed one of the four passages, written on four separate parchments. Here is a list of the passages, in the order they appear in the Torah: 1.        Kadesh Li – Shemot 13:1-10 ...

Shmini 5767

I try to read a piece of the parasha each night to Ayelet and Hillel, my two kids who are still young enough to be put to bed by parents. The other night, we were reading about the deaths of Nadav and Avihu as they offered "strange fire before the Eternal which He did not command". When we got to the part where (according to some interpretations) tries to console Aharon by indicating that the Mishkan had to be sanctified by the death of holy tzaddikim (thus, "your sons deaths indicates their tremendously high spiritual level"), and, the Torah continues, "Aharon was silent", Ayelet was not! "I can't understand that, Abba, how could he not cry upon the death of his two precious children?", she demanded? I tried to explain, but she wasn't buying, and it was late, so we said we'd return to the subject later... And as I rolled it around in my head, I realized that I wasn't buying either, because the storyline doesn't make sense: ...

Fixing the Flat with No Words to Spare

Emor  (revised and updated April 2026) Parashat Emor concludes with one of the only narrative passages in all of Chumash Vayikra - the story of the man who blasphemes. Although the account is brief, it must be of critical importance, for otherwise, why interrupt the halachic flow of Vayikra, a Chumash suspended in time with almost no dateable events, to tell us about a single foul-mouthed boor?