Parashat Korach

In response to Korach’s insurrection, Moshe Rabbeinu attempts to persuade both him and his followers from assuming so much power. He reminds them that only one man is fit to bring Ketores, for Nadav and Avihu had attempted so and were immediately incinerated. Moshe reasons that even were Aharon not the chosen representative of HaKadosh Baruch Hu, only one man could survive the next day’s challenge, Rav Lachem Bnei Levi, and so they are each guilty of assuming too much power, for the odds were against each one of them.

But Moshe isn’t finished arguing, he then turns to Korach, the Pikei’ach, as described by Rashi, who truly believed – and for good reason – that he was chosen above Aharon and the other challengers.

“VaYomeir Moshe El Korach, Shimu Na Bnei Levi”

BaMidbar, 16:8

This short pasuk poses a confusing transition; at first Moshe turns to talk to Korach, but then he addresses his words towards Sheivet Levi. Rashi explains that Moshe recognized there was no hope in compromising with Korach, for the man was simply too obstinate. So as to prevent the rest of the Shvatim from joining in his rebellion, Moshe turned towards the others present, and addressed them instead.

However, Rashi’s explanation too is not without its difficulties. The preceding pasuk itself closes with the words “Rav Lachem Bnei Levi;” whom did we think Moshe was addressing then? If he has already spoken to the Bnei Levi, why does he need to readdress them? Additionally, if Moshe gave up speaking to Korach because of his obstinacy, whom do we think Moshe addresses in the very next pasuk when he says”ViYakreiv Osichah, ViEs Kol Achechah Bnei Levi Itach?” This certainly cannot be directed towards Sheivet Levi; they are referred to in the third person!

Altogether, Rashi’s assessment of our pasukim is rather inexplicable. He claims Moshe refused to address Korach and instead directs his plea to the rest of his Sheivet. But clearly Moshe has already spoken to Sheivet Levi, and clearly he does not back down from a conversation with Korach! What sense can we make of Rashi’s comments?

It is additionally strange that Moshe should direct his instructions and ensuing warning regarding the Ketores towards Sheivet Levi altogether. The Ketores was offered exclusively by the 250 leaders that enjoined with Korach, not by the masses, and Rashi writes that the majority of these leaders hailed from Sheivet Reuvein. If anything, Moshe should beckon “Rav Lachem Bnei Reuvein.”

Perhaps we should approach Moshe’s rebuke from an alternate angle. In Sefer Devarim, Moshe reprimands the people for such sins as the Cheit HaEigel and sending the Meraglim, but the generation guilty of these offenses had already died out! Moshe wisely demonstrates that rebuke is always more effective if instead of directing ones derogatory remarks at the party in concern, one can direct the comments at another, and the let the true intended audience infer their own rebuke. Such a method allows the listener to be critical of himself without putting himself on the defense. It is not unlikely that Moshe employs this same approach towards rebuke in our parasha.

When Moshe first states Rav Lachem Bnei Levi towards the 250 leaders, he is indeed aiming his rebuke at Sheivet Reuvein. But in order for the leaders to be receptive of his remarks, he cannot directly attack them; therefore, he vocally limits his audience to the few leaders from Levi. Sheivet Reuven is left to draw their own conclusions, and Moshe reminds them of Levi’s greatness; therefore, it is likely each non-Levi leader would consider the likeliness of his Ketores being accepted, as opposed to that of a Levi’s, and realize how unlikely his chances of surviving the next day’s challenge truly were. And the very effectiveness of Moshe’s warning comes from its indirect nature, but the words nonetheless set up an implicit Kal ViChomeir.

Likewise, when Moshe prevents all the Shvatim from joining with Korach, he begins his speech Shimu Na Bnei Levi. Note how Rashi does not specify that the speech comes to keep the Levi’im from joining with Korach, but rather to persuade all the Shvatim – had Moshe wished to influence the Levi’im, he never would have directly addressed them. Instead, Moshe makes mention of how Hashem “separated” the Sheivet from the rest of Yisrael, a reference to the aftermath of the Cheit HaEigel. The nation was reminded that they indeed are more distant from Hashem then the Levi’im are, and so they infer their own rebuke, and hesitate to join Korach’s side.

But when does Moshe ever address Sheivet Levi? If all the direct reproving is to no avail, then when can the Levi’im learn their lesson? For this reason, Moshe ends his speech in direct dialogue with Korach, not to win over his overly obstinate heart but rather to beat some sense – and a little compassion – into his own Sheivet. Moshe ends, “ViAharon Ma Hu Ki Salinu Alav,” what is it worth to you to pick on Aharon, he has never caused you any harm. The logic in Korach’s argument, as Rashi explained in opening pasuk of the parasha, lay solely in his claim to the Nissius of Mishpachas Kehas. He stood at the front of the paternal line of leadership – and not Eltzafan Ben Uziel – and so he felt wronged and shorted by Moshe. But for the rest of Shevet Levi, and even for Korach, Aharon Ma Hu Ki Salinu Alav, there was no logical argument to be made for the dethronement of Aharon, and so the rest of Sheivet Levi was dissuaded from Machlokes.

Ultimately, Dassan, Aviram, and Korach stirred the camp back into dissent with their overnight rallies, but Moshe’s rebuke, for the time being, worked effectively. We see from the nuances in Rashi’s assessment of this story that Moshe did not simply lash back at his aggressors, even in the heat of the moment, but rather calculatedly persuaded and abated his opposition. While Aharon may have been the idyllic and ideal Rodeif Shalom, it is Moshe who most effectively meted Hochacha, time after time, and kept Klal Yisrael at large on its proper path.

Parashat Shlach

And when you will err and not perform all of these Mitzvos which Hahsem spoke to Moshe – everything which Hashem commanded you through Moshe from this day onward and through the generations – and it will be if the community acts errantly, then the entire community brings one cow as an Olah, a pleasing fragrance to Hashem… and one goat for a Chatas.

BaMidbar, 15:22-24

Rashi introduces this short parasha as exclusive guidelines for handling a Tzibur that accidentally worships Avoda Zara. Sefer VaYikra has already detailed the process of the Par Ha’Aleim Davar, the Chatas cow that is brought to atone for all other accidental communal sins, but our parasha comes specifically to remove Avoda Zara from those general guidelines. When the community is accidentally Oveid Avoda Zara, they must offer the cow as an Olah instead, and also bring a goat for a Chatas.

Rashi then declares that our pasukim discuss Avoda Zara, and not some other Aveira, for we compare Avoda Zara to all the other Mitzvos in the Torah combined; just as one who refuses to keep any Mitzvos annuls his Bris with Hashem, so too one who worships Avoda Zara annuls his Bris with Hashem. Therefore, when the pasuk describes an act as “not perfoming all of the Mitzvos,” we can assume the pasuk is referring to Avoda Zara.

Rashi’s two comments are fairly straightforward, but their order is rather perplexing. If Rashi needs to prove to us that these pasukim discuss Avoda Zara and not some other Aveira, wouldn’t we excpect Rashi to spell out this proof first, and only after comment how Avoda Zara’s Korbanos are removed from the Klal of the Par Ha’Aleim Davar? In other words, both of Rashi’s comments open with the assumption that our parasha discusses Avoda, but only his second comment questions this assumption. If his assumption can be questioned, shouldn’t Rashi do so before elaborating on some other point?

Perhaps we can answer that Rashi is indeed bothered by Chazal’s assumption that our parasha refers exclusively to accidental Avoda Zara, but before he can justify and defend this assumption, he must first establish that our parasha focuses exclusively on one Aveirah. We may have read these pasukim and considered them a new Bris of sorts. Before the Cheit HaMeraglim, only a cow was required to atone for communal sins; however, the severity of the nation’s sin in our parasha may have shifted this paradigm, and now both a cow and goat are required. Rashi asserts that no such Bris has changed; rather, the Aveira described is a very specific one, and the proof comes from the words of our pasuk.

In VaYikra, the sin of the community is described as “doing one of the Mitzvos they were commanded not to do.” This is how we normally view Aveiros. We are told to refrain from doing something, and then we accidentally do it. However, our pasuk in BaMidbar describes the sin as “not performing all the Mitzvos.” This is very backwards from our standard perception of sin. Usually not doing something is good! Clearly our pasuk must be pointing at something very specific.

Many mifarshim point to the word “Ne’estah,” the sin that “is done,” in pasuk 24, as the proof that our parasha refers to a single Aveirah, for the word is written in singular form. Because it seemingly contradicts the plural nature of “Es Kol HaMitzvos HaAleh,” Rashi resolves this inconsistency, by suggesting our parasha refers to “the Mitzvah that is like all the Mitzvos,” a single Mitzvah. But this inference is not without its difficulties. Firstly, Rashi says absolutely nothing about the word “Ne’estah;” if the focal point of his inference comes from the word, wouldn’t I expect him to say so? Furthermore, there is no inconsistency in the pasuk to begin with! We can easily read pasuk 22 “if the community violates any of all the Mitzvos Hashem commanded Moshe,” and then we’d understand quite easily why the Aveirah in pasuk 24 is written in singular form! Instead, I believe, Rashi knows our pasuk is targeting in on something very unique and specific because of the strange lashon, ViKee Sishgu ViLo Sa’asu.

What makes the pasuk’s lashon so strange is that one cannot incur a Chiuv to bring a Chatas unless he actively violates an Aveirah. Even if one accidentally thinks to worship Avoda Zara (not realizing the intended action is Avoda Zara, for instance), as bad a thought as it might be, one would not give a Chatas until he has actually performed the intended action.

The Levush HaOrah explains that Rashi is not trying to attribute any action to the words “ViLo Sa’asu Es Kol HaMitzvos Ha’Aleh Asher Diber Hashem El Moshe” altogether; instead, Rashi is saying that one who violates the particular Mitzvah described in our parasha cannot practically perform all the other Mitzvos. And what are those other Mitzvos? Everything which Hashem spoke to Moshe (with the exception of the two Mitzvos we heard from Hashem ourselves, Anochi Hashem, and Lo Yiheyeh, which we can always choose to perform). But without submitting to exclusive existence of Hashem, there is no point in performing any other Mitzvah, for to whom would we perform the Mitzvah? Our Avoda and Shmiras Mitzvos can only be worth anything if we direct it properly.

Therefore, our pasuk reads, ViKi Sishgu, when we make a mistake and accidentally think to worship other gods, then ViLo Sa’asu, it is as if all the Avoda we perform is for naught, for it is not directed towards HaKadosh Baruch Hu anymore. All that Moshe commands is for naught, for we cannot act upon it constructively, and all the words of the later Nivi’im are for naught as well, for the very same reasons. Only in pasuk 24 do we begin to describe the act of worshiping Avoda Zara, the act that incurs the Chiuv Chatas. But unlike any of the other accidental communal sins, we must also give an Olah to mend our separation from HaKadosh Baruch Hu and His Avoda at large, and we must bring the Olah first.

It now becomes clear exactly how Rashi knows our parasha refers to Avoda Zara and not anything else. And it becomes clear that we are not merely or arbitrarily choosing any “Mitzvah that equals all the other Mitzvos,” for if that were the case, I could have chosen Shabbos:

“Why does the parasha of the Mikosheish border that of Avoda Zara? To tell [us] that one who violates Shabbos is likened to an idol worshiper, for Shabbos is equal to all the Mitzvos as well.”

Rashi, BaMidbar 15:41

Astoudingly, there are other Mitzvos that Rashi blatantly asserts are equal to all the other Mitzvos, and in this very same parasha no less! How then does Rashi know that we do not bring that cow and the goat for Chillul Shabbos as well? Clearly, there is a difference between the violation of Shabbos and that of Avoda Zara. When one worships other gods, he denies the very existence of G-d as a unique source. But when one violates Shabbos, he only denies the actions of G-d, the fact that he rested on the 7^th day. Such a distinction is drawn by Rashi in Mesechet Chulin (5a), and it helps us understand why one who violates Shabbos may be considered a Kofer BaHashem, but his other Avodos can still be worth something, for he has not denied Hashem’s existence. The Mitzvos of the idol worshiper, on the other hand, lack all direction and meaningfulness, and so he is exclusively the one who “does not do all the Mitzvos” when he falls out of line.

Parashat BiHa'alosicha

As a precursor to the story of the Meraglim, the Torah introduces us to Klal Yisrael’s insensitization towards Lashon Hara through the story of Miryam HaNivia and the harsh words she had for her brother, Moshe. We know her words were harsh because Rashi tells us so:

VaTidabeir – The word Dibur means nothing but harsh language; likewise, it says “the man [Yoseif] spoke harshly (Dibeir) to us [when the brothers went down to Mitzrayim to collect grain]. [Conversely,] the lashon of Amirah is only one of supplication; likewise, it says “And [Lot] said (VaYomeir) [to the mob], ‘please, my brothers, do not do harm.’”

Rashi, BaMidbar 12:1

Rashi’s comments are certainly accurate and well supported, but their placement is rather obscure and seemingly arbitrary. By the time we reach Sefer BaMidbar, one would hope that we are familiar with the usage of Amirah and Dibur, so that Rashi should not have to remind us what the two words mean. More to the point, if Rashi derives his proofs from pasukim in Beraishis, then why doesn’t he make his comment there? Clearly, something in our pasuk is bothering Rashi to state the seemingly obvious, but what problem do we see with the word ViTidabeir? Furthermore, even if Rashi wants to discuss the usage of Dibur in our pasuk, the lashon of Amirah is nowhere to be found. Why does Rashi feel the need to set up this distinction?

But there are more glaring difficulties to be dealt with. Quoting Rabbi Nosson, Rashi explains that Miryam’s name is mentioned in our pasuk before Aharon’s because she first informed her brother, and then the two spoke against Moshe. And from whom did Miryam discover that Moshe had separated from his wife? When Gershom returned and told Moshe that Eldad and Meidad were prophesying in the camp, Tziporah cried out, “woe to their wives, for they will surely be divorced just as my husband separated from me when he began to prophesy.” From there Miryam found out, and then informed her brother Aharon. Rashi then continues, and just as Miryam, who only had constructive intent (to correct her brother Moshe’s mistakes) was still punished, all the more so will those who have destructive intent be punished!

From Rashi’s last comment, we see that Miryam did not purposelessly speak out against her youngest brother, and yet she was still punished with Tzara’as. Considering Tziporah’s role within Rabbi Nosson’s story, it is difficult to imagine that her actions were any more constructive. She blurts out personal matters, and in a negative tone, and yet we don’t find anywhere that Tziporah is punished! By Rashi’s Kal ViChomer, Tziporah should be dealt with at least as harshly as Miryam was; Rashi’s comments are clearly contradictory!

Perhaps these questions can answer each other. If we look ahead to pasuk 2, we find that Miryam and Aharon both speak out against Moshe, VaYomiru HaRak Ach BiMoshe Diber Hashem. And yet, later in the perek, only Miryam is punished. Interestingly, this pasuk begins with a lashon of VaYomiru, a soft lashon of resolution, like the resolution Lot sought from the people of Sedom, and if we understand that the compliant against Moshe was only meant constructively, then we can begin to imagine why Aharon would not be punished.

But pasuk 1 begins VaTidabeir Miryam, that Miryam spoke harshly, with the attitude of conflict much like Yoseif HaTzadik displayed towards his brothers. Her intentions may have been pure, but the attitude she enjoined with her speech was of no value; to speak harshly at a time of Hochacha more often works against one’s goals of resolution. And so Miryam was punished, not for her complaints to Moshe, but for her harsh words.

Therefore, Rashi explains, our parasha opens with a lashon of ViTidabeir, unlike the Amirah of the following pasuk. And we can understand why both Aharon and Tziporah, the two calm and soft speakers were not guilty of the afflictions Miryam incurred. It was one thing to speak out against Moshe, but another to speak out disgracefully, even if constructively.

What is Lishna Bisha, disparaging language? Rabbah said, “There is a fire in Yosef’s house” [constitutes Lishna Bisha, for one is informing a pauper where he can find an abundance of food, and intruding on Yosef’s personal matters]. Abayei responded, what has he done wrong? He has merely informed [the pauper] of a known fact! Rather, [an example of] Lishna Bisha is to say “Where else can you find a fire than Yosef’s house, for he’s always got something on the stove” [derogatorily implying that Yosef is a glutton].

Mesechet Arachin, 15b

Rashi comments on the juxtaposition of Miyam’s punishment alongside the Meraglim’s account, explaining that the spies should have taken a lesson from this early episode of Lashon Hara, and yet did not improve their ways. At the heart of Lashon Hara lies not the iniquity of misinformation or the incivility of exposition, but rather the simple disgrace of negative attitude. The nation was punished with forty years of wandering not for the facts and lies their delegates spoke of the land, but rather for their disbelief in Hashem’s promise, their negative attitude towards the conquest of Eretz Yisrael, and the ensuing tears. We are punished Middah K’Neged Midah for the people’s crying, just as Miryam is punished for her sour attitude.

Not surprisingly, sometimes the most potent remedy for Lashon Hara is nothing more than positive attitude.

VaYomeru [Yehoshu and Caleiv]… Tova Ha’Aretz Mi’od Mi’od. Im Chafeitz Banu Hashem ViHaivee Osanu El Ha’Aretz Ha’Zos.

BaMidbar, 14:7-8

Shabbat Shalom from Artzeinu HaKadosh

Parashat Naso

And why does [the pasuk use the word] Hikriv twice [by the offering of Nissanel Ben Tzu’ar, the Nassi of Shevet Yissachar]? Because for two reasons did he deserve to offer second in the order of Shvatim: first, for [the Shevet] knew much Torah…; and second, for they gave the other Nissi’im the idea of offering these particular Korbanos.

Rashi, BaMidbar 7:18-19

Each of the Nissi’im brought Korbanos, but Rashi only explains the reasons behind Shevet Yissachar’s tribute. The Gur Aryeh explains that Rashi only needed to describe one offering since each Shevet offered the same Korbanos for the same reasons (contrary to the Midrash Rabbah’s elaborate description of each Shevet’s Korban and each’s exclusive origins). In other words, when Rashi explains that Nissanel Ben Tzu’ar brought one bull for an Olah as a correspondence to the bull Avrahahm Avinu offered his heavenly visitors three days after his Milah, Rashi means that each Shevet offered one bull as an Olah for exactly the same reason.

The Gur Aryeh’s explanation is indeed very elegant; we can truly consider each Nassi’s offering equal to his peers’ since each was brought with equal intent. However, there is one critical flaw with the Gur Aryeh’s idea, for when Rashi explains that Nissanel Ben Tzu’ar’s Chatas goat came to atone for Mechiras Yoseif, Rashi means that each Shevet’s Chatas came to atone for the Mechira. Such a notion fits very nicely for a Shevet like Yehuda, or Reuvein, or Yissachar, for those Shvatim were all guilty of selling Yoseif. But Ephraim and Menashe also brought Chata’os; what were they guilty for? Binyamin wasn’t present as his brother’s sale either – how could his Shevet be held accountable? Could each Nassi’s Korban truly be equal if the reasons behind their offerings blatantly lack equal relevance?

Perhaps we should first consider how any of the Nissi’im were authorized to bring Chata’os in the first place. A Chatas is specifically brought by someone who has sinned; one cannot donate it by his own choice or volition. Clearly the Nissi’im did not owe Chata’os to Hashem for these donations were, according to Rashi (7:10), a product of their inspiration. Granted the Olos and Shlamim they brought could be accepted, but why weren’t the Chata’os rejected?

In similar vein, most Chata’os are also brought on Aveiros one performs. If one’s father commits a sin and then dies, his son does not offer his Chatas, even if it has already been set aside for Hekdesh, for the father’s death acts as his Kaparah, and the Chatas is rendered purposeless. Interestingly, and certainly by no coincidence, the Nazir also brings a Chatas over no apparent sin.

When the Nazir accidentally becomes Tamei, he brings an Olah, Chatas and Asham. The pasuk qualifies the Chatas offering “ViKipeir Alav MeiAsher Chata Al HaNafesh,” as atonement over that which he sinned against his own soul. Clearly, this Chatas comes as atonement over his own actions. Rashi explains that the Nazir should have been more careful not to become Tamei, and is thereby responsibe for the violation of his Neder Nazir. Additionally, Rashi quotes the opinion of Rabbi Elazar HaKapar, who reasons that the Nazir owes a Chatas “SheTzi’er Min HaYayin,” for he pained himself [by abstaining] from wine.

Everyone asks on Rashi’s comments how Rabbi Elazar HaKapar’s explanation exclusively addresses the Chatas of a Nazir Tamei, for any Nazir must give a Chatas – along with an Olah and Shlamim – at the end of his Nezirus, and every Nazir abstains from wine. The Levush HaOrah answers beautifully that a Nazir Tamei’s abstinence from wine is very different from a regular Nazir’s for the Nazir Tamei’s abstinence is all for naught, as the pasuk says “ViHaYamim Rishonim Yipilu,” the first attempt drops off and the period of Nezirus resets. Furthermore, the fact that the Nazir became Tamei, the Levush HaOrah continues, was out of his control and therefore serves as an indication from Shamayim that his vow was not accepted for he did not offer it wholeheartedly. Like the servant whose master splashes a cup of water in his face, the Nazir’s pledge is rejected, ad so he must offer a Chatas for the unnecessary pain he inflicted upon himself.

The Levush HaOrah leaves us with little room to explain the Nazir’s inevitable culpability, to explain his need to bring a Chatas at the end of his term, regardless of whether he ever became Tamei. The pasuk notably says nothing about being Mikapeir for the Nazir’s Cheit, nor does Rashi specify any reason for the Chatas. Perhaps, we should take a better look at who the Nazir is before we dismiss his lack of culpability based on what he does:

Rabbi Shimon HaTadik said: In all my days, I never ate from the Asham of but one Nazir who came from the south and I saw he had a beautiful appearance. I said to him “My son, what did you see that compelled you to shave off such beautiful hair?” He replied “I was a shepherd for my father. I went to draw some water and saw my reflection in the well. When I saw how beautiful I looked, my Yeitzer Hara spread through me and tried to lower me from the world. I said to my Yeitzer ‘Rashah! Why do you try to take from a world that is not yours, for your future lies with the maggots and the worms. I will shave you off LiShem Shamayim.” I stood, kissed his head, and said “My son, may every Nazir in the world be like you, for it is upon you that the pasuk states Eesh Ki Yaflee Lindor Neder Nazir.”

Mesechet Nedarim, 9b

The story paints the ideal Nazir in a most admirable light. He is the quintessential Ba’al Teshuva; he recognizes the pull of his Yeitzer, takes the very object of his potential downfall and not only detaches himself from it, but does so LiShem Shamayim. But he is a Ba’al Teshuva all the same; he does not become a Nazir because of his closeness to Hashem, but rather because he recognizes how distant he is. The abstinence from wine becomes a necessary precaution; although it is not a facet of the ideal lifestyle, it becomes the ideal road to such a lifestyle.

Why are the parashiot of Sotah and Nazir juxtaposed? To tell you that anyone who sees a Sotah in her state of disgrace should take upon himself to abstain from wine, for wine leads to adultery.

Rashi, BaMidbar 6:2

It seems that the Nazir recognizes the sinful path of the Sotah and fears that he may fall victim to that same path. However, an ordinary adulteress, with witnesses and warning, does not receive the punishment of the Sotah; she is punished with chenek while a Sotah receives a much more unique penalty. The Sotah’s punishment is not only for her actions but also for the false oath she undertook. Without swearing that she never slept with another man, the Sotah would not be subjected to the test; rather, she would be divorced from her husband and not receive her Kesuvah, end of trial.

The problem with Rashi’s explanation of the Nazir-Sotah connection is twofold. Why does Nazir have to follow the parasha of Sotah; why can’t the Nazir watch a regular No’efes be strangled? Wouldn’t that startle some fear into him as well? Furthermore, if the Nazir was trying to prevent his fate from matching that of the Sotah’s, the last thing he should do is starting making Nedarim and Shvuos. That’s what got the Sotah into so much trouble, so why should the Nazir put himself in harm’s way if his entire goal is to steer clear of harm? Can’t he just abstain from wine without promising so?

We see from the story in Mesechet Nedarim that the Nazir’s fear is not one of succumbing to the misdeeds of another; conversely, the Nazir recognizes a flaw present in himself. The very witnessing of the Sotah’s trial puts the consideration of adultery into his mind. He thinks to himself, “She is a woman and is subject to such a trial, but I am a man; I will never be caught,” and that moment, his Yeitzer Hara begins to seize him and lower him from the world. The response is therefore not only to abstain from wine, in hopes of tightening his connection to HaKadosh Baruch Hu, but to do so LiSheim Shamyim, and so he takes a Neder upon himself in the process, for only then can this deprivation lead towards his ultimate goal.

In essence, the Nazir’s flaw transcends his actions, perhaps even his thoughts. The Nazir recognizes his most critical inequities and set out to repair them. The process concludes with 1) a Korban Chatas, an apology for his initial mistakes, 2) a Korban Olah, an expression of his closeness to and sacrifice for Hashem’s sake, and lastly 3) a Korban Shlamim, the expression of his new persona, the man most able to appreciate his Creator’s world and partake of it in a constructive fashion, capable of partaking from a meal of Kodshim.

Interestingly – and certainly by no coincidence – the Korbanos of the Nissi’im are the only other scenario addressed in the Torah where an Olah, Chatas, and Asham are offered! Perhaps the Nissi’im viewed themselves on the level of Nazirus, in need to correct their most internal and elemental flaws by means of Hakrava. The gifts they brings do not correspond to shallow personal matters; rather, they reflect upon and correspond to the most pivotal events in the nation’s history, the stories that have molded each individual’s persona. Some events, like Avraham’s gift to the Malachim, correspond to Olos. Some gifts, like the two Shlamim cows that corresponded to Moshe and Aharon, served appropriately as Shlamim. And even a Chatas was required to address the brotherly strife that spawns from Mechiras Yoseif.

No Shevet was innocent of such a sin, for each Shevet experienced the aftermath of the rift. Yoseif never forgave his brothers; Binyamin was awarded five times as many gifts. The effects of Yoseif’s sale lasted through the generations, and the Machaneh simply could not function without atonement, and the Nissi’im’s Chata’os served exactly that purpose. Even the western Shvatim – Ephra’im, Menashe, and Binyamin – involved themselves in the Kapara; in fact, in a way they were most responsible for the dissent and dissonance.

But in the end, the Korbanos were offered, the errors were addressed, and the necessary Kesher to HaKadosh Baruch Hu was achieved. The Nissi’im represented their respective Shvatim splendidly. What more, the equality of their Shvatim was expressed not only through the donations they presented, but even through the identical reasons behind each gift, the recognition that each Shevet was equally responsible for the Machaneh’s most dubious failures, and likewise their greatest successes.