And the Lord spoke to Moshe after the death of Aharon's two sons, when they drew near before the Lord, and they died (Vayikra 16:2)
The juxtaposition of the Yom Kippur service with the story of Nadav and Avihu (whose story we read in greater detail a few weeks ago in Parshat Shemini) tells of a deeper connection between this set of laws and the seemingly unnecessary repetition of their story. In trying to discover the underlying theme of the parsha we will learn an important lesson about the challenge, uniqueness, and essence of Judaism.
At the surface level, there is an obvious connection between the laws of the Kohen Gadol entering the Kodesh Kedoshim and the incident of Nadav and Avihu. By mentioning their grave mistake, Hashem highlights the sanctity of the place and reiterates the importance of entering only at the proper times and in the proper manner. As we read further on, however, an even more profound message can be unraveled. Hashem commands Aharon:
Do not come at all times into the Holy within the dividing curtain, in front of the cover that is upon the ark, so that he should not die, for I appear over the ark cover in a cloud (Vayikra 16:2)
As Rashi clarifies, Aharon should be careful not to enter regularly into the Kedosh Kedoshim is because Shechinah is revealed in that place.
A fundamental question about our faith and religion emerges from these words: Is not the whole goal of Judaism to be in the presence of the Shechina? Moreover, is not the whole point of the Mishkan to provide a place in which the people could feel and sense the presence of the Shechina in our lives? And finally, how do we understand the sin of Nadav and Avihu if their actions were driven by a desire to feel immersed in the proximity to the Shechina that they felt in this holy place?
Chazal suggest that the mistake of Nadav and Avihu was not that they wanted to feel close to the Shechina, but the fact that they felt the need to be in the holy of holies. One of the lessons to be learned from their story is that places and experiences outside the Holy of Holies is not void of Hashem. We cannot depend on the inherent kedushah of location and surroundings to inspire us, but instead we must be constantly working to make the environment we are in and the experience we are having infused with kedushaha.
This is the very timely lesson that Hashem reminds Aharon and the Jewish people before commanding the laws of Yom Kippur – the one day of the year that the Kohen enters this holy space, the one day that we are commanded to negate all physical desires and focus entirely on the spiritual cleansing of our souls. By referring back to the story of the kohanim who wanted to make this one day into a more common occurrence, Hashem reminds us that it is only one day of the year that Aharon is allowed to enter this most holy site at the center of the Mishkan, only one day that we are supposed to negate our physical needs entirely. In order words, on all other days of the year we are not only allowed, but in essence we are forced to be involved with the physical reality that we live in.
The mission of the Jewish people is to have a completely spiritual existence, and yet the ideal is not necessarily to live in the Holy of Holies nor is it ideal or even possible to fast every day of the year – how do we make sense of this? The answer to this question reveals the unique challenge and opportunity that the Jewish people have is to find Hashem within their everyday life and experience. We are a people that is constantly striving to get closer to Hashem and to reach higher spiritual levels, and at the same time we do not isolate ourselves from our surroundings - instead, in Hashem's greatness He provided us with the opportunity and the challenge to be able to use the world we live to achieve our spiritual goals -and in so doing we can live an even more fulfilling and rewarding spiritual existence.
As we all know from our own experiences, when we put in the effort and we earn a grade we work for or a job position we want, it feels exponentially more authentic and exciting and the elation is so much more long-lasting than if we are given these things without feeling worthy. And so it is in our relationship with Hashem – when we work to create and maintain a level of closeness to Hashem the experience is much more rewarding and the feeling is much longer lasting.
This lesson is at the very core of the upcoming holiday of Pesach. In his insight into the essence of this chag, Rabbi Tatz points out that the word Pesach itself is derived from the Hebrew word that means leap over – on this holiday the Jewish people were able to literally leap from the 49th level of impurity to a level of unparalleled closeness, revelation, and connection to Hashem.
But, soon after Hashem brings us up to this highest moment of elevation and revelation (comparable on some level to the Yom Kippur experience of the Kohen as he enters the holiest site in which the Shechina can be sensed most profoundly), we are brought back to normal life – to a life in which we must work towards finding Hashem and relating to Hashem. As we know all too well that on the other side of the Yam Suf the Jews faced new struggles, doubts, and challenges they would have to overcome.
This pattern of feeling, seeing, and experiencing spiritual heights followed by a time in which we are forced to work so hard to see and feel the same level of emunah and bitachon is hidden within the mystical meanings of mazalot (signs) that represent the months surrounding Pesach. The mazal for the month of Nissan is the sheep, an animal that is dependent entirely on his master to guide him. The month of Iyyar that follows is represented by the bull, a powerful animal that is responsible to pull itself and the load it carries in order to move forward.
These two months culminate in the month of Sivan, symbolized by twins - the synthesis of the two approaches - it is in this month that we are able to finally receive the Torah because it is at this time that we understand the pattern of living a Torah life – a life filled with moments of inspiration that we must seize in order to reach those spiritual heights through our own efforts in our day-to-day lives.
The Shabbat that precedes Pesach is known as Shabbat Hagadol – a Shabbat of greatness. Rabbi Berel Wein suggests that this Shabbat is so named because it is the time that we have to begin to recognize our own greatness. The holiday of Pesach, and the entire month of Nissan, reminds us of our ability to see the great and awesome potential we each have – as individuals and as a nation. May we all try to internalize the feelings of closeness and greatness so that we can push ourselves in the coming weeks to continue to reach for those spiritual heights even after the “holiday spirit” has passed – reminding ourselves always that the most rewarding and lasting relationships sustain themselves only when we work at them on a daily and constant basis.
The Jewish calendar is filled with important days, gifts that Hashem gives us throughout the year - Yom Kippur, Pesach, and all of the other chaggim that function as checkpoints for us in our lives - to step out of the world just for a moment in time to reflect on where we are and to be rejuvenated by the spiritual heights that we reach on those special days. May Hashem continue to grant us these moments of elevation, revelation, and clarity throughout the year so that we can continue to see and therefore strive to reach our very greatest potentials.
Shabbat Shalom & Chag Kasher ve’Sameach, Taly
