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December 8, 2024
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This week’s parsha discusses a variety of individuals who unfortunately sin and must bring a korban chatat or asham. Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky notes that in describing the incidence of sin, the Torah describes it as a potential circumstance, expressing it in a term of hopeful uncertainty: “If an individual person from among the people of the land shall sin unintentionally” (Leviticus 4:27); “If the anointed kohen will sin…” (ibid, 4:3); “If the entire assembly of Israel shall err…” (ibid, 4:13). However when referring to the nasi, the ruler or prince of the nation, the Torah does not choose the tentative words “ki” or “im,” which denote an uncertainty, rather it uses the definitive “asher”: “When a ruler sins (ibid, 4:22). Why, when it comes to the ruler, does the Torah use the definitive term of “when”—indicating a definite expected occurrence—yet when referring to the sins of the common man, kohen or even the entire assembly, it uses “if,” indicating an indefinite occurrence? Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin explains that the Torah makes prescient predictions about a ruler’s rise to power. Unfortunately, the question all too often is not if a ruler will go wrong, but rather when. And so the Torah uses a definitive expression, “When a ruler will sin.”

We find another similar critique in regard to the nasi: Rashi notes that the word “asher” in the beginning of that pasuk about the nasi comes from the word ashrei, which means fortunate, to teach that fortunate is the generation in which the nasi brings an offering when he transgresses unintentionally, and certainly so if he regrets his willful sins. This seems to indicate that it is typically difficult for a nasi to admit his wrongdoing and thereby bring an offering, and also to feel regret, and thus if the leader of the generation—the Nasi—does admit and bring an offering, this is above and beyond expected behavior, and it’s even more remarkable if he regrets his willful sins. Why is this stated specifically in reference to a nasi as opposed to being stated in reference to the kohen gadol or the Sanhedrin? Why is it more difficult for a nasi to admit his wrongdoings and have regret that he needs to be singled out? Rabbi Zelig Pliskin, based on the Maskil Ledavid, answers that the kohen gadol was a person with a high level of sanctity, and the Sanhedrin were great Torah scholars. Those factors themselves contributed to their regretting the wrongs they did. However, the nasi was a person with much power, and power gives a person such high feelings about himself that he is unlikely to admit that he has done anything wrong. Thus, when the nasi admits that he made a mistake and regrets that, it is fortunate for his generation.

The glaring novelty is that seemingly even a great person like a nasi is more inclined to err, and less inclined to admit their mistakes because of their authoritative position. We see how positions of rulership is perceived quite critically, and all of the above indicates the tremendous challenge of being in positions of authority, even if you may be a great Torah scholar with exceptional middot and ethical values. It’s no wonder why we find Pirkei Avot telling us to highly despise positions of authority. So practically speaking, are people in positions of ruler/leadership chopped liver? That’s it? They’re all “done with”? No hope? Chill out, there is.

We have to ask the question: Why is power such a strong form of causing self-corruption and moral frailty? It seems so natural of a cause that it’s like a metzius, a given fact that it will happen whether you like it or not! Well, we can easily blame it on societal pressure, the need to please and remain in power or, of course, money. But I think it cuts deeper than that…

Power inflates a person’s ego so that he may believe he is beyond people, time and even mistakes: “Me? I sinned? Someone so great and prestigious like me?” There seems to be an aspect of ga’avah (haughtiness) that deflects the reality that sin is possible. Will someone who is “beyond sinning” have any reason to look into their behavior and actually feel regret for something they may have done wrong? Hence, the inability to “fess up,” to acknowledge, admit and own up to his mistakes. That’s perhaps why a ruler will be more likely to sin, hence “When a Nasi sins.” Perhaps the greater underlying reasons why “power corrupts” is based on what power can ultimately cause, which is gaavah and a lack of self-reflection. Thus, maybe we can suggest that one way to counter and overcome these potential failings is to emphasize the opposite of those obstacles, namely the qualities of humility and diligent self-introspection. When a ruler excels in humility and begins to realize that he too can make mistakes, and when he engages in rigorous cheshbon hanefesh (self-analysis), he will be armed with the tools to overcome the typical challenges that an authoritarian faces. So of course, all hope is not lost for those in leadership and rulership positions that contain aspects of dominance. Through the significant study of mussar, critical self-introspection, humility and honesty, people will indeed be fortunate to have such a leader. But don’t think this “shmuess” is just for people in lofty positions of rulership and leadership. Most of us are in some position of perceived dominance, whether it’s a boss over his employee, a parent over their child, an older sibling over a younger one, a rabbi over his congregants, a teacher over his students, etc. We have to be careful of the way we relate to such people whom we think, feel or subconsciously perceive as being on a pedestal lower than us. Yes indeed, those exact frailties that challenge a classic nasi can easily apply to each and every one of us on our own level. But thankfully, so do working on those very qualities that can help.

By Rabbi Binyamin Benji


Binyamin Benji currently learns in Rabbi Shachter’s kollel at Yeshivas Rabbi Yitzchak Elchanan, and is a semicha candidate there as well. He holds an MSW from Wurzweiler School of Social Work and is the author of the weekly Torah portion in the Sephardic Congregation of Paramus’ newsletter. He can be reached at
[email protected].

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