We know that the concept of sending spies is not in it of itself problematic – as we read in our hafotrah of the spies sent by Yehoshua at a later point in our history who were successful and ultimately enabled the successful conquest of the land. The nature of the sin of the 12 spies in our parsha can thus be understood when compared with the two spies sent by Yehoshuah that we read about in this week’s haftorah. The fundamental difference between the two sets of spies is not in the number that went or the route that they took – but in the attitudes that they had toward their missions.
While the spies sent by Moshe went to determine whether the Jewish people were capable of conquering the land, the spies sent by Yehoshua went with the assumption that they would conquer the land – and it was this conviction that motivated them to go to strategize the best way to make this happen. A similar quality of faith is seen in the woman named Rachav who hid them and protected the second set of spies during their mission. Upon sending the spies away, Rachav says: I know that the Lord has given you the land, and that your terror is fallen upon us, and that all the inhabitants of the land have melted away because of you (Yehoshua 2:9).
Like the spies whom she had saved, Rachav knew that Hashem had promised the land to the Jewish people and He would therefore make sure that the land was delivered into their hands. Rachav’s steadfast belief that moved her to act, to risk her own life, and most importantly to become a partner with Hashem in making His words come into fruition. (Interestingly, chazal tell us that Rachav later converted and married Calev – as both of these individuals demonstrated the same quality of bitachon and ability to act on that high level of trust.)
If we understand through these comparisons that the essence of the sin of the spies sent by Moshe at this time was in their lack of faith and trust in Hashem, then how do we understand how the 12 greatest, hand-picked, leaders of Klal Yisrael at the time could steep to such a low level?
The answer is very much rooted in human nature and the human struggle to relate to the Divine. During their “tour” of the land of Israel, these 12 leaders realized that the transition from the desert life to Eretz Yisrael was quite dramatic for the Jewish people at the time.
Rather than feel the constant protection of the cloud that prevented them from reaching harm’s way, the Jewish people would have to take arms to conquer the land of Israel. Rather than the manna that would reliably fall from the skies and Miriam’s well that supplied an unending amount of water, the Jewish people would have to toil the lands and work to feed themselves and their families once they entered the land.
What the spies and the entire nation failed to realize was that the fact that they would now have to work and put in their own efforts to survive and to thrive in the land of Israel, did not mean that Hashem was no longer with them. We see how words of comfort and encouragement offered by Calev and Yehousha alay their fears of leaving their utopian lifestyle in the desert:
But you shall not rebel against the Lord, and you will not fear the people of that land for they as our bread. Their protection is removed from them, and the Lord is with us; do not fear them (Bamidbar 14:9).
Their message can be understood from their unusual comparison of the other nations to "bread." The Gomorrah points out that making bread requires at least 10 steps—more so than most other crops. For this reason, as Rav Binny Friedman notes, bread is the ultimate expression of the partnership between man and G-d, as it requires our actions, but also depends on the rainfall and the right weather conditions for the crops to grow.
Unlike the desert experience, in which Hashem miraculously protected and provided for the Jewish nation, upon conquering and eventually living in the land of Israel, the Jews would have to work. The challenge and the message that Yehoshua and Calev speak to is that the Jews must realize that this is a new reality—one in which we become partners with Hashem—one in which we must do our part and trust that if we do so, Hashem will do His.
There is no such thing as a punishment in Judaism – Hashem is not vengeful. Instead there are consequences for our actions. In the case of the spies and the Jews of their generation, Hashem realized that they were not at a level to be able to enter the land – only Yehoshua and Calev understood that the ideal is not for Hashem to provide for us without our efforts, but that we must be able to recognize both our role as well the involvement of Hashem in our every endeavor and success – and so only they were able to enter the land.
In this light, we can understand the significance of the set of seemingly unrelated mitzvot that we find following the incident of the spies – all of which, we will see, serve as reminders of this partnership that is recognized and celebrated when we are living in the land of Israel. First, we find the mitzvah to separate a portion of the challah to give back to Hashem. In the desert, the Jews did not have to work for the manna, their physical sustenance. But in Israel, the Jews are involved in making their bread; they were obligated therefore to perform this mitzvah to demonstrate to Hashem, and to remind ourselves, that they are partners in this process of making the bread—that without Hashem, their labor would be futile.
Rav Goldvicht explains that this is true also with the mitzvah to pour wine on the altar. Unlike their travels in the desert where there was an endless supply of water form the beer (well), the Jews took part in making the wine in Israel. By pouring the wine onto the altar - giving it back to Hashem - the Jews would constantly be reminded that it is Hashem who ultimately provides them with fruits of the land from which the wine is made.
Finally, the mitzvah of Tzizit takes the place of the Clouds of Glory that protected the Jews and surround them with kedusha throughout their travails in the desert. In Israel, the Jews had to provide their own cloak of kedusha - the tzizit meant to serve as constant reminders that Hashem is all around us and that Hashem is ultimately in control - whatever we do and whatever we are doing it is with the assistance of Hashem.
Finally, this theme of partnership between man and his Creator is found also in the last verses of the parsha, where we find an interesting story about one individual who desecrates the Shabbat and the harsh consequence for this sin. We know that Shabbat is the time in which we commemorate Hashem’s creation of the world as well as our partnership with Him in continuing to create the world—we are meant to be creating and completing the world all week, and like Hashem we rest from this work on the 7th day.
And so, perhaps one of the lessons we learn from the sin of this generation is that a life of bitachon (trust in Hashem) and histhadlut (our own efforts) are not contradictory – if Hashem is with us it does not mean that we do not have to ut in our efforts, and if we put in our efforts and succeed it does not mean that Hashem was not helping us along the way. This lesson is strengthened by the haftorah we read – reminding us that that more bitachnon we feel, the more we have faith the more willing, able, and motivated we are to put in our efforts and essentially become partners with Hashem in changing our lives and the lives of those around us. May Hashem continue to give us the strength to continue to put in our efforts, the ability to feel the Divine assistance that guides and protects us each day, and the opportunity to see the success from this Divine partnership we are part of each and every day. Shabbat shalom, Taly
