This parsha discusses two outstanding events in our history that seem to be in direct contrast to each other. On the one hand we have the Bnei Yisrael departing from Har Sinai after the giving of the Torah (10:33), which Chazal say Bnei Yisrael didn’t just leave politely, but rather rushed away “like a child [tinok] who escapes from school” out of concern that “maybe Hashem will give us more mitzvot.” Here, Bnei Yisrael express a turn away from mitzvot, perhaps even indicating that less would have been better.
On the other hand we have the episode of the “Pesach Sheini people” who missed doing the Korban Pesach in its designated time since they were involved in burying the dead (Gemara Sukkah). Although the mitzvah no longer applied to them, they nevertheless come to Moshe Rabbeinu pleading to be able to perform the mitzvah of Korban Pesach. Here, these people didn’t just indicate less is not better, but also wished they could engage in more mitzvot than they had to.
We may perhaps suggest that the difference in events depends on obligation versus voluntary/generosity. For example, if someone must do something and doesn’t have the free will in deciding yes or no, one might find it difficult and dislike what they do and naturally wish they could do less. When someone, however, is not bound to do something and willingly decides to take on an endeavor, they find it easy and enjoyable and may want to do more.
The Pesach Sheini people were already beyond the point of obligation for they were seemingly exempt. As such, wanting more mitzvot came from a state of free will, and thus it was easy and desirable. As opposed to Bnei Yisrael at Har Sinai where they were in a state of coercion (Gemara Shabbat, 88) and thus the denial of their free will and the obligatory nature of receiving the Torah led them to resist and not want more mitzvot.
All this notwithstanding, perhaps we can suggest an alternative yet similar understanding in the difference between Bnei Yisrael at Har Sinai and the Pesach Sheini people.
Chazal’s description of Bnei Yisrael’s eagerness to leave Har Sinai is that they were “like a child tinok running away from school.” It seems to be an interesting comparison: Firstly, what’s the necessity for this comparison as opposed to simplifying and saying that Bnei Yisrael simply were overwhelmed? Even more curiously, the comparison of Bnei Yisrael to a “tinok” escaping school stands out, for tinok literally means a baby, and a baby surely can’t run, let alone go to school and understand academics!
Perhaps we can say that Bnei Yisrael at Har Sinai are representing one stage of life, when a person is new to Torah [which is considered “life”], much like a tinok—a baby—who is new to life. Bnei Yisrael can thus represent the beginning of a person’s journey in “kirvat Elokim”—of coming close to Hashem and Torah—where many times beginnings are difficult, distasteful and one wishes there would be less “demands” and “expectations.”
On the other hand, the Pesach Sheini people just came from dealing with the dead, and therefore perhaps they are representing the opposite extreme of life—the climax of a person’s life where one has become accustomed, learned and invested in this journey, thus reaching a level where they appreciate and value Torah so much where they want to do more and more.
This journey in “kirvat elokim” is a delicate and personally oriented journey. Sometimes it’s sweet, sometimes it’s bitter, sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s difficult, sometimes we wish we could do our own thing, sometimes we wish we could do more for Hashem. There’s ups and downs. David Hamelech in Tehillim (73:28) says, “Va’ani kirvat Elokim li tov—And I, kirvat Elokim—closeness to Hashem—for me is good.” The personalization in David’s declaration when he commences with “and I,” as well as when he concludes “for me,” perhaps indicates that “for others” the appreciation of an ever-increasing relationship and closeness with Hashem and Torah is not always there, for they may not be holding there fully.
Much of what gives us enjoyment and satisfaction in life activities is understanding the benefit and value in doing them. Hence, the more one learns Torah and appreciates the value for mitzvot, one’s eagerness to do more for Hashem becomes the focus and what gives him satisfaction in life. R’ Noach Weinberg famously discussed the “five levels of pleasure,” where the base level is the attraction to something because it gives one physical pleasure. In this stage-one level, a person feels accomplished after getting what he wanted, yet it’s a minute and fleeting feeling. Nevertheless, many stay in this first level as it’s the easiest to obtain. The fifth and highest level is a life devoted to activities that bring one close to God, which, although takes work and much effort, delivers the highest dividends. Naturally, many people aren’t fully at the fifth level, not necessarily because they find the fifth level to be much more difficult, but rather perhaps because not enough pondering and thought was given to fully understanding the purpose of life and being honest with oneself. The opening words of the Mesilat Yesharim emphasizes how once the purpose of life becomes utterly clear to a person, he will realize that the ultimate “shleimut,” wholesomeness, is cleaving to Hashem.
The Mishna (Makkot) brings R’ Chanania ben Akashya whose statement we might hear so often: “Hashem wanted to benefit Yisrael; therefore, he gave them an abundance of Torah and mitzvot.” One of my rebbeim, R’ Dovid Sharfman, zt”l, would say that although one might feel relieved if exempt from mitzvot, however, in truth mitzvot are the greatest opportunity, as Hashem “increased Torah and mitzvot” for us, for our own good.
By Binyamin Benji
Binyamin Benji can be reached at [email protected].
