Why We Slander

At the conclusion of Parshas Beha’aloscha, we encounter the sobering story of Miriam speaking Lashon Hara (gossip) about her brother, Moshe. Even though Miriam’s intentions were ostensibly noble—she was concerned about the well-being of Moshe’s wife—the Torah is unyielding. Miriam is struck with tzaraas (a supernatural skin malady), and the Jewish people are commanded to remember this incident every single day.

This episode serves as the foundation for the laws of speech, but it also reveals a dark psychological phenomenon regarding how we perceive—and misperceive—the motives of others.

The Temple Treasury: A Study in Suspicion

A fascinating insight into the mechanics of gossip is found in the Mishna in Maseches Shekalim (Chapter 3). The Beis HaMikdash (Temple) maintained a vault for the Shekalim (coins used for sacrifices). The Halacha (law) was incredibly stringent regarding those who entered this vault to prevent even the slightest hint of embezzlement.

Workers could not wear garments with pockets, hems, or even shoes or Tefillin, lest they hide a coin inside. Most remarkably, they were required to speak the entire time they were inside; if they were talking, they couldn't be hiding a coin in their mouths!

The Mishna explains the reason: A person must be beyond reproach. If a worker later became poor, people might say, "He is being punished for stealing from the Temple." If he became wealthy, they might say, "He is spending the money he stole from the Temple." To avoid this, the Torah demands: “You shall be innocent before Hashem and before Israel” (Bamidbar 32:22).

The Malice of Mutually Exclusive Logic

The Perush HaKosev (in the Ein Yaakov) points out the staggering hypocrisy of the "suspicious observer."

If the observer decides the worker is a thief, he will use any data to prove it:

The worker is poor? "See! G-d is punishing him for his crimes."

The worker is rich? "See! He’s living off his stolen loot."

Logic would dictate that you cannot have it both ways. If poverty is a sign of Divine punishment for theft, then wealth should be a sign of Divine reward for honesty. Conversely, if wealth is the "fruit of the crime," then poverty should be proof of the worker's integrity—that he refused to take even a penny despite his need.

But the Baal Lashon Hara (the serial gossiper) does not care about logic. As the Perush HaKosev explains, the gossiper is so "warped and perverted" in his perception that he will use mutually exclusive theories just to ensure the target is always cast in a negative light. This is a game of: "Heads, you're wicked; tails, you're wicked."

Psychology: The "Horn Effect" and Confirmation Bias

Modern psychology has a name for this "warped" logic: The Horn Effect. This is a cognitive bias where our overall negative impression of a person causes us to interpret all their specific traits and actions negatively.

Once we decide someone is "the villain," our brains engage in Motivated Reasoning. We are no longer objective observers; we are "prosecutors" looking for a conviction.

Confirmation Bias: We only "see" the evidence that supports our negative view and ignore everything else.

The Fundamental Attribution Error: If we see someone we dislike succeed, we attribute it to "cheating" or "luck." If we see them fail, we attribute it to their "bad character."

In the book The Righteous Mind, it describes the mind as a "lawyer" defending the "client" (our emotions). If our emotion is "I dislike this person," our inner lawyer will twist any fact—rich or poor, silent or loud—to win the case against them.

The Passion of Slander

The Steipler Gaon notes that a person can become "passionately invested" in speaking slanderously. When passion enters the room, logic exits. This is why the Baal Lashon Hara doesn't feel the contradiction in his words. His goal isn't truth; it is the "hit" of dopamine that comes from feeling superior by demeaning another.

As Bernard Meltzer famously said: "Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, and does it improve upon the silence?" The gossiper fails all four tests because they have replaced "Truth" with "Agenda."

Conclusion: Remembering Miriam

Why must we remember the story of Miriam every day? Perhaps it is because we are all prone to this psychological trap. Miriam was a prophetess and a righteous woman, yet even she fell into the trap of misinterpreting Moshe’s motives.

If it could happen to her, how much more so can it happen to us? We must constantly audit our thoughts: Are we judging someone based on facts, or are we bending the facts to fit a "Horn Effect" we’ve already created?

The lesson of the Temple treasury and the end of Beha’aloscha is the same: True integrity means being "clean before G-d and man," but true wisdom means realizing that if we want to find fault in others, our warped logic will always find a way—unless we choose the path of Dan L'Kaf Zechus (judging others favorably). To be a person of truth, one must first be a person who refuses to let their "inner lawyer" prosecute their neighbor.

Tranquility

In the center of Parshas Beha’aloscha, surrounded by special inverted Hebrew letters (nuns), we find two of the most famous verses in the Torah. These verses, which we recite every time we open and close the Ark, represent Moshe Rabbeinu’s prayers for the traveling nation:

“When the Ark would journey, Moses said, ‘Arise, Hashem, and let Your enemies be scattered...’ And when it rested, he would say ‘Reside tranquilly, Hashem, among the myriads and thousands of Israel’” (Bamidbar 10:35-36).

The prayer for the journey is intuitive. When a nation travels through a desert, they are vulnerable to external threats—the "enemies" and "those who hate You." But the prayer for the resting of the Ark contains a linguistic and psychological depth that speaks directly to the human condition.

The Linguistic Shift: From "Return" to "Tranquility"

Most translations, including the Targum and Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, translate the word Shuva as "Return." It makes sense: we have been traveling; now, Hashem, please return to Your resting place.

However, Rashi, citing the 10th-century grammarian Menachem ben Saruk, offers a different interpretation. He links Shuva to the word Nachas (calm/rest), as in the verse in Yeshayahu (30:15): "In tranquility and calm (shuva v’nachas) you shall be saved."

According to this view, Moshe wasn't asking G-d to "return"; he was asking G-d to grant the people Tranquility.

The Danger of the Idyllic: The Psychology of Idleness

Why did a nation camping in a secure, divinely protected environment need a specific prayer for tranquility? They had no taxes, no bills, no traffic, and no grocery shopping. The Manna fell at their door, and their clothes grew with them. It was a "utopian" existence.

The answer lies in a profound psychological truth: Human beings are often most dangerous to themselves when they have nothing to do.

Modern psychology refers to this as the "Existential Vacuum." Viktor Frankl, the father of Logotherapy, observed that when people lack a sense of purpose or a structured task, they often fall into a state of "abysmal boredom." This boredom is not passive; it is highly volatile. Frankl noted that this vacuum often leads to aggression, depression, and addiction.

When the Jews were traveling, they had a "mission." They had an external focus—getting to the next stop and watching for enemies. But when they rested, the external focus vanished. In the absence of a "struggle," the mind begins to eat itself.

The "Sunday Neurosis" and the Vacation Paradox

Frankl coined the term "Sunday Neurosis" to describe the depression that afflicts people who, after a busy week, realize the emptiness of their lives when the weekend arrives and they have no "to-do" list.

We see this in the modern phenomenon of vacations and retirement. Many people find that vacations are surprisingly stressful. Without the "scaffolding" of a daily schedule, small irritations with a spouse or children become magnified. 17th-century philosopher Blaise Pascal famously captured this: "All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone."

If we aren't "busy," we become "jumpy." Research on "Dread of Idleness" suggests that humans are hardwired to stay active. When we aren't active, our brains often default to "ruminative thinking"—focusing on perceived slights, old grudges, and petty complaints.

Retirement and the Loss of Structure

The transition to retirement is a classic example. Many people work their whole lives for the "rest" of retirement, only to find that their physical and mental health deteriorates once they reach it. Without the "front door" of an obligation, the "back door" of depression opens.

The Avos D’Rabbi Nassan stated this centuries ago: "If a person has nothing to do and he sits around idly, he becomes depressed... and ultimately leaves this world."

For the Jewish person, the solution to the "retirement trap" is the transition from Work to Learning. The Daf Yomi or a daily Halacha seder isn't just a spiritual activity; it is a psychological necessity. It provides the "Flow State" (as described by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi)—a state of intense focus that provides the "tranquility" Moshe was praying for.

The Prayer for Internal Peace

When Moshe prayed Shuva Hashem Rivevos Alfei Yisrael, he was essentially asking for G-d to help the people manage their leisure. He was saying: "Hashem, now that we are resting and the external enemies are gone, please help us not to become our own enemies. Grant us the inner serenity (mirgo-ah) to live with one another in peace, even when we have nothing to do."

This is the ultimate "Measure of a Man." Can you handle rest? Can you find meaning when there is no crisis to solve?

Conclusion

Moshe understood that "peace" is not merely the absence of war; it is the presence of internal harmony. The greatest challenge for the "myriads of Israel" was not the desert heat or the Amalekite sword; it was the restless human heart.

As we close the Ark and say Shuva Hashem, we are asking for more than just a divine presence. We are asking for the wisdom to fill our "rest" with purpose, our "vacations" with growth, and our "leisure" with the tranquility that only comes from a soul at peace with itself.

The Measure Of Man

In Parshas Beha’aloscha, a profound psychological theme emerges regarding the nature of human desire and the source of our emotional distress. While the Parsha covers diverse topics—the Menorah, the offerings of the Princes, the "Second Passover," and the complainers in the desert—they are all linked by a single question: What is the "Measure of a Man"?

1. The Psychology of the "Patur" (The Exemption)

In Chapter 9, we meet a group of individuals who were ritually impure (tameh) due to contact with a corpse and therefore could not bring the Paschal lamb. Legally, they were patur—exempt. In most areas of life, an exemption is a relief. If a person is told they are exempt from a tax or a difficult chore, they usually react with joy.

Yet, these individuals approached Moshe with a cry of "Lama Nigara?"—"Why should we be deprived?" (Bamidbar 9:7).

The Sifrei describes them as Charedim—those who "tremble" to perform commandments. In modern psychology, this represents a shift from Extrinsic Motivation (doing something because you have to) to Intrinsic Motivation (doing something because it is core to your identity). To these men, the Mitzvah was not a "burden" to be discharged, but a "resource" to be consumed. They didn't see an exemption; they saw a deprivation.

2. The "Front Door" vs. "The Back Door"

The Gemara in Berachos (35b) contrasts the "earlier generations" with the "later generations." The earlier generations brought their produce in through the "front door" to ensure they would be obligated in tithes (Ma’aser). The later generations brought their produce in through the "back door" or via loopholes to remain exempt.

From a behavioral perspective, this describes a person’s Regulatory Focus.

Prevention Focus: The "later generations" were trying to avoid "loss" (giving away their grain). They looked for loopholes to minimize their obligations.

Promotion Focus: The "earlier generations" were seeking "gain" (spiritual connection). They purposely triggered the obligation because they saw the Mitzvah as an opportunity for growth.

As Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky notes, the "Measure of a Man" is found in whether he is looking for a way in or a way out.

3. Emotional Data: What Makes You Sad?

This theme continues at the beginning of the Parsha. Rashi explains that Aaron HaKohen became "depressed" (chalsha da’ato) when he saw the twelve Princes of the Tribes bringing their dedication offerings while he was not included.

Winston Churchill once famously remarked, "It is the measure of a man—what makes him angry." We can extend this to: "It is the measure of a man—what makes him depressed."

In clinical psychology, our emotions are "data." They tell us what we value.

If a person is depressed for a week because their favorite sports team lost, it reveals where their heart is invested.

If a person loses sleep over a dip in the stock market but feels no sting when they miss a chance to help a neighbor or learn Torah, it reveals their Value Hierarchy.

Aaron was not jealous of the Princes’ honor; he was grieving a missed opportunity for service. His "depression" was a testimony to his righteousness. He didn't say, "Great, I have less work to do today." He felt a void where a Mitzvah should have been.

4. Displacement of Despair: Onions vs. Meaning

Contrast Aaron and the "Why should we be deprived?" group with the Misonenim (the complainers) later in the Parsha. They, too, were depressed. They sat at the entrances of their tents and wept. But what were they weeping about? Cucumbers, watermelons, and onions.

Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs suggests that as humans evolve, they move from physiological needs (food, water) to self-actualization and transcendence. The Misonenim were regressing. Despite having the manna—a spiritual food—they were stuck in "Bottom-Tier" thinking.

When we look at these two groups side-by-side, the contrast is stark:

The Righteous: Depressed because they cannot perform a spiritual service.

The Complainers: Depressed because they must perform a spiritual service and miss the physical "spices" of Egypt.

5. Introspection: Auditing Our Sadness

Psychologist Viktor Frankl, in Man’s Search for Meaning, argued that humans are not driven by pleasure (the "onions"), but by the "will to meaning." However, when a person lacks a sense of meaning, they fill the void with "hedonic" complaints.

We must ask ourselves: What triggers my emotional reactions?

When we find a "loophole" that allows us to skip a responsibility, is our first reaction "Phew, I’m free," or "Lama Nigara—what am I missing out on?"

What has the power to ruin our day? Is it a petty slight, a material loss, or a missed opportunity to be our best selves?

Conclusion

The "Measure of a Man" in Parshas Beha’aloscha is defined by his Emotional Gravity. Aaron and the carriers of Yosef’s coffin had their hearts pulled upward; they were pained by spiritual distance. The complainers had their hearts pulled downward; they were pained by physical "deprivation."

The Torah is teaching us that "Patur is not always Patur." Technically, you might be exempt. But if you truly value the relationship with the Divine, an exemption feels like an exclusion. The goal of Jewish life is to reach the level of the "earlier generations"—to walk through the front door, seeking every opportunity to be obligated, to be involved, and to be present.

It Wasn't Just About The Onions

In Parshas Beha’aloscha, we encounter the episode of the Misonenim—the complainers (Bamidbar 11). Despite being sustained by the miraculous manna, the Jewish people began to weep, longing for the "delicacies" of Egypt: the fish, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. They lamented, “Now our soul is parched; there is nothing but this manna before our eyes.”

It is a classic case of “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Even today, Jewish life often seems to revolve around the quality of the catering! However, the Torah describes a scene far more dramatic than a mere culinary preference. The verse (11:10) notes that Moshe heard the people weeping “l’mishpachosem”—by their families—at the entrances of their tents.

Rashi, citing the Sifrei, notes that they weren't just crying privately; they gathered in public "family cry-ins" to broadcast their grievances. More provocatively, the Sifrei suggests that l’mishpachosem implies they were crying "concerning family matters"—specifically, the newly legislated laws of Arayos (forbidden sexual relationships).

According to this Rabbinic tradition, the main complaint wasn't about onions; it was about the restriction of their impulses. They said “onions,” but they meant “liberty.”

The Psychology of Displacement

Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky, in his Emes L’Yaakov, asks a fundamental question: How can Chazal depart so radically from the peshat (simple meaning) of the text? If the Torah says they wanted garlic, why do the Rabbis insist they wanted forbidden relationships?

The answer lies in what modern psychology calls Displacement. Sigmund Freud defined displacement as an unconscious defense mechanism whereby the mind substitutes either a new aim or a new object for goals felt in their original form to be dangerous or unacceptable.

When the Jewish people received the Torah, their entire social and moral fabric was restructured. The "freedom" of Egypt—which, though physically oppressive, was morally lawless—was replaced by a disciplined system of sanctity. Admitting, "I am upset that I can no longer follow my carnal whims" is ego-dystonic; it makes a person feel small or unholy. It is much easier to displace that frustration onto the food. As the saying goes in clinical psychology: "If it’s hysterical, it’s historical." The over-the-top weeping over onions was a red flag that the "onions" were merely a screen for a deeper, more painful adjustment.

The Subconscious Agenda

Rav Yaakov points out that Chazal apply this "psychological lens" throughout the Torah:

The Spies (Shelach): When the Spies reported that the land "devours its inhabitants," the Zohar explains their true motive: they feared that entering Israel would mean the end of their leadership roles. They didn't realize they were lying; their fear of losing status triggered a Confirmation Bias, causing them to see only the threats and none of the beauty.

Lot’s Choice: When Lot chose to settle in the wicked city of Sodom, the text says he chose it because it was well-watered. Chazal, however, say he chose it because he was drawn to its immorality. Lot convinced himself it was a "business decision," but his subconscious was looking for an escape from Avraham's morality.

Rav Yaakov explains that Chazal possessed a profound "sensitive intuition" into human nature. They understood that the conscious mind is often just the tip of the iceberg. As Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman explores in Thinking, Fast and Slow, our "System 1" (intuitive, emotional) often makes decisions based on hidden biases, while "System 2" (rational) creates a narrative to justify them after the fact.

The Problem of "Negius" (Bias)

In Torah terminology, this is called Negius—personal interest or bias. When we are nogeah in a matter, our vision is biologically compromised.

Psychology calls this Motivated Reasoning. We do not see the world as it is; we see it as we need it to be to protect our ego. This creates a "Blind Spot." Just as a driver cannot see a car in the lane beside him without a mirror, a human being cannot see his own subconscious motives without an external perspective.

The Solution: The "External Mirror"

How do we protect ourselves from these blind spots? The Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (1:6) provides the clinical protocol: "Make for yourself a Rav (mentor) and acquire for yourself a Chaver (friend)."

In modern terms, this is the necessity of "Peer Review." We need someone—a mentor, a therapist, or a brutally honest friend—who stands outside our ego-system.

A Rav provides the objective standard, the wisdom of experience that can see through our rationalizations.

A Chaver is someone we "purchase" (koneh) through time and vulnerability. As the psychologist Carl Rogers emphasized, "unconditional positive regard" within a relationship allows a person to finally be honest with themselves.

A 'chaver' is not just a social acquaintance; they are the person to whom you can say "this is how I feel," and who can respond, "I hear you, but are you sure it’s really about the onions?"

Preserving the Relationship

The Mishnah concludes: "...and judge every person with the benefit of the doubt (le'kaf zechus)." This is the final piece of the psychological puzzle.

Inevitably, your Rav or your Chaver will disappoint you. They will miss your Simcha, they will say something insensitive, or they will be unavailable when you need them. The ego's immediate defense is to discard the relationship: "He’s not a real friend," or "He’s not a real Rebbe."

But the Torah warns us: Do not walk away. Because you are nogeah (biased) regarding your own feelings of hurt, you are disqualified from judging the relationship fairly. You must bend over backwards to find excuses for them, not because they are perfect, but because the relationship is your only lifeline to objectivity.

Conclusion

The complainers in the desert weren't hungry for onions; they were struggling with change. They lacked the self-awareness to realize their own "hidden agenda." By highlighting these episodes, Chazal are "banging the idea into our heads": You cannot fully trust your own perceptions.

To live a life of truth, we must invest in relationships that challenge us. We must find a Rav and a Chaver who can help us distinguish between our "onions" and our "Arayos," ensuring that our conscious actions align with our highest values.

Redifas Ha-ta'anugim

כתב הגר"א קוטלר זצ"ל [הקדמה 'משנת רבי אהרן' ח"ב] וז"ל כל רדיפת התענוגים אינה אלא להפיג את העצבות הבאה מתוך החושך של החומר. 

This should be at the top of every ad in every magazine and newspaper. 

Just to keep perspective. 

Man Discovers Amazing New Weight Loss Method Of Crippling Stress And Anxiety

NEW BRITAIN, CT — Local tax preparer Frank MacArthur recently discovered an amazingly effective way to lose weight that makes simple use of crippling stress and anxiety.

MacArthur had already given up on shedding the 40 pounds his doctor told him to lose when he accidentally stumbled on the potent new weight loss system.

"The weight is just melting right off," said MacArthur as he sat consumed by the burden of his responsibilities. "There's something about spiraling into the depths of 24-hour tension and pressure that works like no other diet I've ever tried."

According to sources, MacArthur had already failed at numerous diets, including the Atkins diet, keto, paleo, the Mediterranean diet, intermittent fasting, the carnivore diet, veganism, and even a humiliating stint at Weight Watchers. After Ozempic caused too many side effects, he accidentally discovered the new soul-crushing weight loss system while working one of his 3 jobs.

"Everything I'm dealing with has really kicked my lack of appetite into gear," said the harried father of five. "Of course, I was already dabbling in crippling stress and anxiety, but the last couple of months of a jam-packed calendar and added obligations really got the pounds disappearing fast. I don't even feel like eating most of the time. Thanks, crippling stress and anxiety!"

At publishing time, MacArthur was within 20 pounds of his target weight, with his doctor recommending a stressful family vacation to burn off those last stubborn pounds.

Holy Amnesia/ Social Rejection/ Yerida Tzorech Aliyah/ Value Yourself/ Magic Johnson/ The Sin Of Aharon And Miriam/ Rav Nosson Shpiegelglass

 HERE!!!