Parashat Fikudei

If it is good to the King, [he should] write to destroy [the Jews] and I will pay 10,000 Kikar of silver by the hands of the laborers to the King’s treasury.

Megilas Esteir, 3:9

Haman wasn’t the only anti-Semite of his generation. In fact, the Malbim explains, the populous hated the Jews so much they would pay money to kill a Jew! Haman assessed a certain price per Jewish head, added up the values, charged the nations this value, estimated the total monetary gain at 10,000 Kikar, and promised this money to the King. The language Haman uses to describe the agents of this genocide, Osei HaMelacha, hints back at a different event in history, the construction of the Mishkan:

Said Reish Lakish: It was known before the One Who spoke “Let the World be” that Haman would pay Shekalim for Yisrael; therefore, He preceded their [obligation to bring] Shekalim before his.

Meseches Megila, 13b

I heard that 10,000 Kikar of silver corresponds to a half-Shekel from each Jew (who were 600,000 when they left Mitzrayim) and [Haman] said to give to Achashveirosh their entire Pidyon. Check this yourself and you will see.

Tosafos, Megila 16a

Tosafos completes the striking parallel that Chazal outlined centuries earlier. Hashem commands that Klal Yisrael pay for their own lives years before Haman places a price on their heads. When Haman finally comes to power, Hashem considers the Jews to have already bought themselves, thus guaranteeing their salvation.

If only it were that simple. Unfortunately, 600,000 half-Shekels does not equal 10,000 Kikar after all. According to the pasuk in Parashat Fikudei (38:27), the 603,550 half-Shekels donated amounted to about 100 Kikar (plus another 1775/3000 Shekalim, to be precise). To make matters simpler and the numbers rounder, Tosafos approximates the total to 600,000 half-Shekalim, bringing the total quantity of collected silver to exactly 100 Kikar, 9,900 Kikar short of Haman’s estimate.

As for Tosafos’s approximation, there are two possible ways to justify the oversight of the extra 1775 Shekalim. The pasuk also states that 100 Kikar of silver was used to cast the 100 Adanim of the Ohel Mo’eid (48 Krashim, two Adanim per Keresh, and 4 Amudim holding up the Paroches, one Oden per Amud). The rest of the silver was used to hold up the Klayim, the curtains around the Chatzer (by means of hooks and belts). It is therefore possible that Tosafos focuses only on the significance of the silver used in making the Ohel Mo’eid. Secondly, Tosafos doesn’t say that only 600,000 donated half-Shekalim but rather that 600,000 people ascended from Mitzrayim, which happened the year before the collection of Shekalim. In other words, Tosafos might possibly only focus on the Shekalim of the Yotzei Mitzrayim, the Jews above the age of twenty when the nation was initially redeemed. Regardless of Tosafos’s intent, there are certainly enough Midrashim that refer to Klal Yisrael as 60 myriad strong to justify this approximation; this difficulty therefore does not fall upon Tosafos’s shoulders but rather upon those of the Midrashim.

As for Tosafos’s miscalculation, there are again two possible ways to assess the disparity in Shekel values. The Shekalim of Haman’s era were worth exactly half that of a Shekel Kodesh; therefore, whether one presumes that Haman’s 10,000 Kikar were Kikar Kodesh or Kikar Chol will affect the math. If one assumes he charged Kikar Kodesh, then Haman promised Achashveirosh exactly 100 times the value of Yisrael’s Shekalim. If one assumes he charged Kikar Chol, then Haman pledged only 50 times more.

The Chizkuni takes the latter approach. He explains that Klal Yisrael gave half-Shekalim on a yearly basis. Each Jew begins donating at the age of 20 and lives, on average, to the age of 70, thereby donating 50 half-Shekalim along the course of his life. Haman’s Shekalim, therefore, correspond to the cumulative donations of the 600,000 Yotzei Mitzrayim.

The Chizkuni’s proposal is by far the most popular resolution to Tosafos’s comments; the Ba”Ch, Maharsha, and Rabbeinu Bachya all take this stance. However, the calculation does little to explain a third difficulty within Tosafos, namely the placement of this esoteric comment. Presumably, Tosafos should compare Yisrael’s Shekalim to Haman’s where the gemara says that Hashem preceded their obligation before Haman’s. Instead, Tosafos comments on a completely different incident:

Haman arrived to ride Mordechai on the King’s horse, and saw him teaching the Rabanan the laws of Kemitza… he asked [the Rabanan,] “what were you discussing?” They replied to him, “when the Beis HaMikdash stood, one who promised a Mincha would bring a Kometz of fine wheat flour, and this would atone for him.” [Haman] replied, “along came your Kometz of flour and wiped away my 10,000 silver Shekalim!”

Meseches Megila, 16a

Tosafos’s comments look like an aside, an alternative means by which Klal Yisrael pushed away the Shekalim of Haman. Perhaps one could say Tosafos even contradicts the gemara at hand! Why then should these comments appear in regard to the conversation between Haman and the Rabanan? Why not comment where Reish Lakish discusses the Shekalim of Yisrael?

Perhaps Tosafos’s comments don’t really contradict this gemara but rather provide a resolution between Reish Lakish’s statement and Haman’s gesture, somehow connecting the significance of the Kometz to that of Yisrael’s Shekalim.

The Aruch LaNeir favors the former approach, the notion that Haman paid in Kikar Kodesh. By this count, Haman offered one hundred times the donation of Klal Yisrael. Taking note of Tosafos’s use of the Lashon “Pidyon,” the Aruch LaNeir reasons that the Pidyon (Erech, as detailed in Parashat BeChukosai) of an average male, one between the age of 20 and 60, is 50 Shekel Kodesh. Each member of Klal Yisrael, therefore, donated a hundredth of his essential value towards the building and upkeep of the Mishkan. The Torah’s concept of Terumah is to donate a hundredth the value of one’s possessions (for the only MiDi’oraissa Terumah is Terumas Ma’aseir); therefore, Hashem made each Jew bring a Terumah of his Erech, as the pasuk says, “Machatzis HaShekel Terumah LaHashem” (Shemos 30:13). Haman, on the other hand, donated their entire value, Kol Pidyonam.

By the Aruch LaNeir’s measure, the money Haman paid and the money Yisrael donated were indeed not equal. In fact, this was exactly Haman’s intent, to outweigh Klal Yisrael’s measly donations and buy out each individual. Haman set his price at fifty Shekel per Jewish head; any Goi could simply pay this Erech for the right to kill a Jew.

But Haman’s calculation was for naught, for he misunderstood the very essence of a Terumah. The notion of offering only a hundredth of one’s possessions to Hashem is not an act of stinginess; rather, the retention of the other ninety-nine hundredths acknowledges that the goods and benefits Hashem gives to Man in this world are meant to be enjoyed, to be appreciated, and to bring him closer to a true love for his Maker. Of course, the offering of Terumah reminds him where the other ninety-nine percent comes from, thereby allowing him to appreciate and love Hashem as the source of all good.

In Hashem’s eyes, Haman’s 50 Shekel bounty was a relatively meaningless gesture. The gesture of Terumah has enduring properties, for it not only increases the donor’s awareness of Hashem’s presence at the time of the donation but also every time he partakes of the leftover ninety-nine percent. The Erech bears no such effect. Once he donor pays off his obligation, he can proceed with his life without ever again considering his donation, withot ever considering Hashem’s presence.

In this sense, the Kometz plays a very similar role in combating Haman’s Shekalim. A Korban Mincha consists of a large quantity of flour, usually some oil, and some Levonah. The Kohein removes a fraction of this Mincha and burns it on the Mizbei’ach to Hashem, in turn permitting the rest of the flour for the Kohanim’s consumption. How little flour is donated to Hashem and how much flour is enjoyed by the Kohanim! Yet with that miniscule Azkarah, the Mincha becomes Kodesh Kadashim MeiIshei Hashem (VaYikra 2:3), worthy to be enjoyed by Man through his recognition of Hashem.

Rashi comments that Mordechai was teaching the Rabbanan about Kemitza that morning because the topic pertained to the matters of that day, namely the 16^th of Nissan. When the Beis HaMikdash stood, this was the day that Klal Yisrael would bring the Korban Omer.

The Maharsha takes serious issue with this conjecture. Granted the Omer required a Kemitza, but the Rabbanan clearly state to Haman that Mordechai was teaching about the Kometz of fine wheat flour, and the Korban Omer is brought of barley! This, however, is no question at all, for Rashi never said that Mordechai instructed regarding the details of the Korban Omer, but rather regarding the Inyan, the essence of these laws. Before the Korban Omer is brought, a Jew may only use Kemach Yashan, grain harvested in the previous year. But after the Korban, one can use even the new grain, the Kemach Chadash. In this sense, the Korban Omer is exactly like the Azkarah of the Kemitza. Man, with just the smallest donation of barley to Hashem, a donation one would hardly consider fit for human consumption, can enjoy his entire year’s produce.

With these words, Mordechai offered Chizuk to the Rabbanan, promising them that no matter how little of themselves they could offer to Hashem, so long as they remain aware of His presence and committed to His service, they should never doubt their share in this world and should never question whether Hashem would come to their rescue. May we be Zocheh to the same in our days, to give of what we have and in turn appreciate and love Hashem through our enjoyment of the rest. May the good we intend towards G-d and towards one another precede the bad our enemies intend towards us, as the Shiklei Yisrael preceded the Shiklei Haman and gave Hashem what to cherish about His nation. And may we bring a Geula Shleimah BaAgalah, return to offering the Kometz Minchah, and achieve a full and sincere Kapara.

Parashat VaYakheil

The Chatzer of the Mishkan was one hundred amos long and fifty amos wide. Curtains surrounded this space, and the curtains hung on Amudim, pillars. There were twenty pillars on each side, the north and south sides, and ten pillars in the back, the west. On the east side, each Kaseif, or shoulder, of the front wall spanned fifteen amos and required three pillars; the middle twenty amos were called the Masach and required four pillars. Rashi explains that each Amud stood five amos apart.

At first glance, the description above makes perfect sense; twenty pillars, five amos apart, spans a hundred amos. Ten, also five amos apart, spans fifty. And so on. But a closer look reveals a serious flaw, for twenty pillars only have nineteen spaces in between, and if each space is five amos long, there are only ninty-five amos per side of the Mishkan.

Perhaps one could count the width of the pillars separately from the nineteen five-amah gaps. How wide would the pillars be? Five amos short of a hundred, divided among twenty pillars, leaves a quarter amah (or a tefach and a half) width for each pillar. Of course, on the west, the ten pillars would have to be three tefachim wide to compensate the missing five amos there (for ten pillars with nine gaps in between yields a span of only forty-five amos, five shy of the required fifty). It’s difficult to imagine that the pillars of the Mishkan were different sizes, especially after Rashi goes to such great lengths to emphasize the uniformity of the gaps between each pillar. It’s also difficult to imagine a quarter-amah wide pillar with a half-amah wide pole sticking out its top.

He made poles, six tefachim by three tefachim, with a copper ring attached at the center, and folded the edge of each curtain around [the pole] with [the aid of] ropes… one end stood upright, while the other end stuck into the [top of the] Amud.

Rashi, Shemos 27:10

So it certainly sounds like each Amud was the same width and that none of the Amudim could be thinner than three tefachim. Therefore, the width of the Amudim must have counted toward the five amah gaps between each other. But how then can one completely suspend the respective hundred amah and fifty amah spans of the curtains? Rashi implicitly acknowledges this difficulty in one of his comments, and locally resolves the quandary:

“Amudeihem Shloshah,” the southeast shoulder [of curtains] hung by three pillars.

[There are] five amos between each pillar. From the pillar at the head of the south, which stood in the southeast corner, until one pillar from the east side is five amos. From [this first pillar] to the second [pillar of the east side] is another five amos, and from the second to the third is another five amos. So too did the second shoulder [in the northeast corner hang]. And four pillars for the Masach, which spanned twenty amos across the east.

Rashi, Shemos 27:14

Rashi explains the Amud in the southeast corner counted as a southern pillar, not an eastern pillar. Likewise, the northeastern pillar must have counted towards the twenty Amudim on the north side. With another three Amudim for each, the “shoulders of the eastern wall could easily span fifteen amos, as the pasuk explicitly describes (27:14-15). Unfortunately, Rashi’s solution does not address the original difficulty with his description, for if the first southern pillar stood in the southeastern corner, and each subsequent pillar stood five amos apart, then the last pillar of neither the northern or southern walls reached the Mishkan’s western wall. With only ten Amudim left to span the fifty amos in the west, the Amudim would have to be spaced father than five amos apart to cover the necessary distance.

The Mizrachi proposes an elegant solution to this difficulty. He counts the pillar in the southwest corner towards the ten pillars of the west, the pillar in the northwest corner towards the twenty pillars of the north, and the pillar in the northeast corner towards the pillars in the east. The next three pillars, moving north to south along the east side, comprised the northern “shoulder” of the Mishkan. The next four pillars were the Masach, and the last three were the southern “shoulder.” The last Amud of the southern shoulder stood exactly five Amos from Amud in the southeast corner, the Amud Rashi describes as the “head of the southern pillars.”

The Mizrachi’s solution works fairly well, except it contradicts a statement in from the Braisaos DiMeleches HaMishkan:

“The curtains of the Chatzer, on the Mishkan, and the Masach of the Chatzer’s entrance, one the Mizbeiach.” (BaMidbar, 4: )

The [eastern] curtains stood fifty amos from the Mishkan, and the Masach stood fifty amos from the Mizbeiach (which was ten amos in front of the Mishkan).

According to this widely accepted Braissa, the Masach of the eastern wall did not connect to the Kesaifos on either side. Rather, the Masach jutted out ten amos, allowing people to enter without lifting the curtain. This creates an irreconcilable difficulty for the Mizrachi, for he assumed the Masach could hang on five pillars, the four central pillars and the first (or northernmost) of the southeastern pillars. Likewise, the Mizrachi needed the northernmost pillar of the Masach to hold up the edge of the northeastern Kaseif. The only way the Mizrachi’s interpretation could hold is if all the walls of the Mishkan form a perfect box and none jut out.

The Malbim comes to the Mizrachi’s aid and suggests that the drasha in the Braissa is in fact not universally accepted but rather hinges on a machlokes between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Yose.

“And make the Mizbeiach [HaNechoshes]… three amos high.”

‘Literally [three amos].’ So says Rabbi Yehuda. Rabbi Yose says, ‘Here [the pasuk] states “Ravua” and regarding the [Mizbeiach HaZahav] it also says “Ravua.” Just as [the Mizbeiach HaZahav’s] height was twice its width, so too [the Mizbeiach HaNechoshes’s] height was [ten amos,] twice its width. And how do I uphold “three amos high?” [This distance measures] from the edge of the [decorative] band to the top [of the Mizbeiach].

Rashi, Shemos 27:1

The Malbim explains, based on a gemara in Mesches Zevachim (59b), that the purpose of the surrounding curtain was to keep outsiders from watching the Kohein perform his avodah at the top of the Mizbeiach. According to Rabbi Yehuda, who maintains that the Mizbeiach was only three amos high, the curtains were five amos high (as indicated in Shemos 27:18). According to Rabbi Yose, who maintains that the Mizbeiach was much taller than five amos, the curtains were really fifteen amos, thereby blocking the outsider’s view of the Kohein’s avoda; hence the pasuk calls them “five amos high,” meaning five amos higher than the height of the Mizbeiach. If the purpose of these curtains, the Malbim suggests, was to block sight of the Kohein, then only Rabbi Yehuda should worry about outsiders peeking underneath the curtain. According to Rabbi Yose, however, the Kohein stands ten amos up in the air when he performs his avoda, so even if the bottom of the Masach was permanently suspended, nobody would see the Kohein.

Perhaps, the Malbim concludes, the Braissa DiMeleches HaMishkan only follows the view of Rabbi Yehuda, in which case Rabbi Yose could maintain that the curtains formed a perfact box, that the bottom four amos of the Masach were folded over, forming a permanent entrance, and that the Masach did not jut out ten amos. In this case, Rashi describes the arrangement of the pillars and curtains the way Rabbi Yose would have arranged them, but not according to Rabbi Yehuda’s arrangement, and the Mizrachi’s explanation would not need to fit the description in the Braissa.

But the Malbim’s resolution bears its own difficulties. For starters, there is no clear indication that Rabbi Yose and Rabbi Yehuda argue over the statement in the Braissa. Furthermore, Rashi offers no indication that he is only describing the layout of the Mishkan like the view of Rabbi Yose. In fact, if Rashi’s comments accord to only one Tanna’s view, they certainly sound more like Rabbi Yehuda’s view than Rabbi Yose’s:

“[The curtains are] five amos high.”

[This is] the height of the walls of the Chatzer, and the width of the curtains.

Rashi, Shemos 27:18

The Ma’aseih Choshev suggests a completely different approach. By this alternative method, there were no Amudim in any of the corners of the Chatzer. To illustrate the design, here is a layout of the southern wall’s pillars: The first Amud of the south side stood two and a half amos from the southeast corner. The next Amud stood five amos away, and so on. The last Amud on the south side, therefore, stood two and a half amos from the southwest coner. Each of the sides followed a similar plan.

But the Ma’aseih Chosheiv does not explain what held the curtains up in the corners of the Chatzer. Presumably, a pole could extend across the tops of all the Amudim, and the curtains could hang off this pole. This in turn would explain how the southeast Kaseif hung off the first southern Amud in the southeast corner, provided that the pole count as part of the Amud. However, such an approach would not work so well with Rashi’s description of the vertical poles. Rashi asserts that the curtains were wrapped around the three tefach by six tefach poles that stuck out of the tops of the Amudim, not around any horizontal poles that spanned the length and width of the Chatzer. All in all, the Ma’aseih Chosheiv’s interpretation, like the Malbim’s, provides an elegant understanding of Rashi’s layout of the Amudim, but too requires an imagination to fill in the gaps within Rashi’s description.

I would like to propose a solution of my own, perhaps more imaginative than the two solutions above. The Levush HaOrah, working within the Mizrachi’s alignment of the Amudim, raises a separate issue regarding the dimensions of the Chatzer. Presumably, the curtains would run either along the inner perimeter or outer perimeter of the Amudim, but could not run through their center. But if the Amudim were an amah wide (as indicated by the dimensions of the poles sticking out their tops), then the outer perimeter of the Mishkan would be an amah longer than the necessary length, and the inner perimeter would be an amah shorter. For example, along the southern wall of the Mishkan, there were twenty-one pillars (the westernmost pillar belonging to the ten western pillars). The center of each pillar stood five amos away from its neighboring pillars. This itself spans a hundred amos. But if the curtains ran across the outside of these pillars, the curtain would have to span one hundred and one amos to fully cover the Amudim. The same problem emerges on each side.

The Levush HaOrah answers that the Amudim were an amah wide, but shaped like semi-circles, like such: ∩ ∩ ∩ ∩. The curtain then hung along the outer perimeter. Furthermore, the Amudim in the corner were quarter-circles, half the size of these semi-circle pillars. Although this proposal breaks the uniformity of the design, the purpose of the uniformity was only to enhance the appearance of the Mishkan, and if quarter-circles fit more appropriately in the corners of the Chtzer, then presumably that’s what the design entailed.

The Levush HaOrah otherwise maintains the Mizrachi’s approach to laying out and counting pillars, thereby assuming that the Masach rested flush with the “shoulders” and did not jut out ten amos to the east. This certainly adheres to the simple interpretation of Rashi’s words, but doesn’t rest well with the aforementioned Braissa.

Perhaps one could count the quarter-circle Amudim in the corners as “half pillars” in a sense, for they were indeed half the size of the standard pillars. In such a case, the “half pillars” in the corners could count towards both intersecting sides. For instance, the quarter-cirlce pillar in the southeast corner counted both as a half a pillar in the east and a half a pillar in the south. The southern wall, therefore, consisted of nineteen full Amudim, and two “half Amudim,” one in each corner. The northern wall consisted of the same. The western wall consisted of nine full Amudim and also two halves, again one in each corner.

Lastly, the eastern wall consisted of seven full Amudim and six halves. The Masach took three full Amudim and two halves, one on each side of the twenty amah span. Each shoulder followed a similar layout, with two full Amudim in the middle and a half Amud on each side. Of course, each pillar (or half pillar) was five amos from its closest neighbor. Furthermore, the Amudim of the eastern wall lined up perfectly with the Amudim of the western wall; although some of the eastern Amudim were split in half.

The only overt difficulties lie within Rashi’s description of the southeast Kaseif. Rashi calls the southeastern pillar the “head of the southern pillars” and makes no mention of the eastern pillars, suggesting that the southeastern pillar did not count at all towards the pillars of the eastern wall. This is not a strong difficulty, for Rashi may have only been emphasizing that pillar’s role as also a southern wall pillar, lest one think it only counted towards the eastern wall’s pillars. However, Rashi continues by stating that the “first” pillar of the eastern side stood five amos away from the corner, emphatically suggesting that the corner pillar did not belong to the eastern side whatsoever. This comment is a little more problematic, but also understandable (with a little imagination) since one does not encounter a “full” Amud corresponding to eastern side until he reaches this second Amud. The next Amud brings the count to two and a half pillars, which Rashi calls “two,” and the last half-pillar completes the count to three, so Rashi calls this half-pillar the “third” pillar to the southeast shoulder.

Of course, Rashi makes no mention of half pillars altogether. This is a matter of the Levush HaOrah’s imagination. Whichever approach one takes, the layout of Amudim encounters involves some imaginative work and yet encounters a difficulty of one sort or another. Although the mefarshim agree the curtains served a greater purpose than just defining the boundaries of the Chatzer and looking nice (namely, blocking the outsider’s sight of the Kohein’s avoda), the elegance and uniformity of this structure take no backseat to its function, even if this uniformity leaves us with several other difficulties.

Parashat Ki Tisa

And now, if I have found favor in Your eyes, make Your ways known to me so that I will find favor in Your eyes, and see, for this nation is Your nation.”

Shemos, 33:13

Moshe Rabbeinu’s appeal to HaKadosh Baruch Hu to forgive Am Yisrael for Cheit HaEigel is a partial success. Moshe demands “Im Tisa Es Chatasam,” (32:32) that Hashem lift the iniquity, but Hashem holds strong, “U’ViYom Pakdi, U’Fakadti Aleihem Chatasam” (32:34). Quoting a gemara in Sanhedrin, Rashi notes that all tragedy that ever befalls Yisrael is at least partially a consequence of Cheit HaEigel, indicating that Hashem has still not forgiven the sin. Additionally, Hashem informs Moshe, “Hinei Malachi Yeileich Lifanecha” (32:34), that a Malach will lead the nation in His stead.

But Moshe does not give up easily, and he continues his plea, this time appealing to the favor he found in Hashem’s eyes. The pasuk isn’t clear whether Moshe is appealing for the forgiveness of the Cheit or for Hashem’s Shchina to lead the nation. Presumably, had Moshe thought his Chein could lift the iniquity, he would have mentioned it in his earlier argument. The subsequent pasuk also provides some indication as to the aim of Moshe’s request.

And [Hashem] said, “My [Presence] will walk, and I will lead you.”

Shemos, 33:14

So Moshe Rabbeinu’s argument, “this nation is Your nation” asserts Hashem’s obligation to lead “His nation” through the Midbar. This certainly explains why Moshe attaches Klal Yisrael’s status as “Hashem’s nation” to the favor he found in Hashem’s eyes. But there are still several difficulties with the argument itself. Had Moshe stated, “If I have found favor in Your eyes, see, for this nation is Your nation,” he argument would be complete, Why does Moshe have to say “and see?” Why does he have to request “make your ways known to me?” And why should Moshe ever state “so that I will find favor in Your eyes” if he has perhaps already found favor in Hashem’s eyes?

And Moshe said to Hashem, “See, You said to me ‘take this nation up [from Mitzrayim]’ but You did not inform me that You would [only] send [a Malach] with me, and you told [me], ‘they will distinguish you by name,’ and You have also found favor in my eyes.

Shemos, 33:12

Apparantly, Moshe strings together a lengthy, and successful, argument. But what does he argue?

“And you did not inform me,” and that which you said “Behold I will send a Malach” (Shemos 23:20) is not information, for I do not desire it.

Rashi, Shemos 33:12

The first difficulty with Rashi’s interpretation of this account is how Moshe Rabbeinu negates Hashem’s words merely because he does not like them. Clearly Moshe could not veto the other punishments for Cheit HaEigel, why should this consequence be any different? The Maharif suggests that the term “Hodatani” does not mean “inform” in this context but rather “make loved,” like Hashem’s use of Yedi’a by Avraham Avinu, “Ki Yidativ” (Beraishis 18:19) In other words, Moshe merely complains that he doesn’t like Hashem’s information, not that the matter never occurred. Nonetheless, why should Moshe complain now if Hashem informed him in Parashat Mishpatim, before he ever descended Har Sinai? Thirdly, why should Rashi appeal to this Hada’a when Hashem outright just said Hinei Malachi Yeileich Lifanecha a few pasukim earlier?

Perhaps Moshe’s point is that there is no clear indication from the information of Parashat Mishpatim when Hahsem’s Malach will begin leading Klal Yisrael. Hashem explains that the Malach will lead them up into Eretz Yisrael and chase out the other nations, but does not indicate from what point, whether at the border or in the dessert. Moshe then builds off this argument, noting that he is distinguished by name, suggesting that he holds a universally higher status than his student, Yehoshua (“ViGam Bicha Ya’aminu LiOlam”). Therefore, Moshe suggests to Hashem, the Malach should begin leading when Yehoshua takes over control of the people, namely when they enter Eretz Yisrael, but until then I demand that You lead us.

Of course, Moshe hasn’t yet explained why he should be allowed to argue with Hashem. All he’s done is suggest how the difference between him and Yehoshua indicates that He could request favors that Yehoshua cannot, thereby offsetting Hashem’s guarantee of a Malach to the days of his student’s leadership.

Rashi explains that the favor Moshe finds in Hashem’s eyes earns him an unknown reward. Moshe’s request here is to see that reward so that he knowns how much Chein in worth. Moshe’s mention of Chein is rather perplexing. Moshe needed favors from Hashem in earlier accounts, whether at the Yam Suf or when fighting Amaleik. Why all of a sudden here does he appeal to Chein? Why does he think he has Chein?

Only one other individual in the Torah finds favor in Hashem’s eyes, Noach Maza Chein BiEinei Hashem. As his reward, Hashem set Noach apart from his entire generation, killed the rest, and started the world anew. Interestingly, Hashem proposes a very similar plan to Moshe, “Achaleim ViE’eseh Osicha LiGoi Gadol” (32:10). Of course, Hashem also prefaces this plan “ViAta Hanicha Li,” suggesting to Moshe that he can reject the proposal, and indeed Moshe does, “VaYinacheim Hashem Al HaRa’a.”

Where does this all leave Moshe? Moshe knows he has found favor in Hashem’s eyes, and he knows he gets rewarded for this Chein, as Noach did. Moshe also knows he will not receive the same reward as Noach, for he has already rejected that notion, as he reminds Hashem outright, “see, for this nation is Your nation.” Therefore, Moshe is not 100% certain he will still be rewarded, but nonetheless asks. Moreover, Moshe wants as much Schar as possible; perhaps this is why he says “and You have found favor in my eyes,” as the Mishna in Avos (2:4) teaches, “make His Will your will so that He will make your will His Will.” In other words, Moshe argues that he should still receive reward even though he has turned down Hashem’s first offer. The offer itself is not the consequence of Chein; rather the Chein earns a quantifiable reward, and that Moshe has not yet received.

Hashem gives Moshe his due reward and leads the nation through the Midbar Himself. Moshe’s willingness to speak, a trait Noach severely lacked throughout his life, aided him towards the more desired reward. Notably, Moshe never specified what his reward should be, but Hashem centainly knew what Moshe wanted. And while Cheit HaEigel proved to be a punishment too strong for Moshe to lift, Hashem agreed to Panai Yeileichu.