Come Inside

The beginning of this week’s Parsha details the Avodas Yom HaKippurim that took place in the Mishkan and later the Bais HaMikdash. As we know this Avodah includes a unique element: the entry of the Kohen Gadol into the Kodesh Hakodashim. This is the portion of the Sedra with which we are perhaps best acquainted, from its connection to the Yom HaKadosh, but does not comprise the entirety of the Parsha. After the conclusion of this section the Torah goes on to teach us certain Halachos pertaining to our consumption of animals, including the Issur of Achilas Dam and the Mitzvah of Kissui HaDam, both of which are prevalent in our times. The Pessukim that immediately follow the Avodah of Yom Kippur, however, discuss a Mitzvah with which we are less familiar, but which requires our attention nonetheless.

The Mitzvah that is discussed in these Pessukim is the Lo Sa’asei of bringing Korbanos outside the Mishkan or Mikdash, and is referred to by Chazal as the Issur of “Shechutei Chutz.” Prior to the building of the Mishkan, one was allowed to bring a Korban on a Bama, or private Mizbeach, but once there was a set place of Hashra’as Hashechina this was no longer permitted. Historically there were times when there was once again a Heter Bamos, when the Mishkan was not in a set place in Eretz Yisroel, but once the Bais HaMikdash was built this Issur became permeant. In its conception, then, this Mitzvah is relatively straightforward: one must bring Korbanos in the Mishkan and nowhere else. The words in the Pessukim, however, seem to indicate that there is more than meets the eye.

When giving this Mitzvah, the Passuk begins with Hashem telling Moshe: “Daber El Aron V’El Banav V’El Kol Bnei Yisroel V’Amarta Aleihem Zeh HaDavar Asher Tziva Hashem Leimor.” Moshe is told to speak with Aron, his sons, and all of Bnei Yisroel, and relay to them the Mitzvah of “Shechutei Chutz.” There are many Mitzvos that are given just to Moshe, less that are given to Moshe and Aron together, and even fewer that were given to Aron’s sons as well—usually the Mitzvah pertains to Kohanim specifically. In addition, there are only two Mitzvos—this being one of them—when Bnei Yisroel is included as well. The instruction given to Moshe here, Daber El Aron V’El Banav V’El Kol Bnei Yisroel, is surely notable, and must tell us something about the Mitzvah.

In fact the Ba’al HaTurim points out that the word “Aleihem” is spelled out fully, with two “Yuds”, indicating that this Mitzvah was to be given in the presence of ten men. This too is an unusual requirement—not only was the original Tzivuy to be given in the presence of Moshe, Aron, the Bnei Aron, and all of Klal Yisroel, but it seems that as the Mitzvah was publicized further there was a requirement of a Minyan. Surely this was not the case for all Mitzvos, for if it was the Torah need not hint to it here, and so we are left to assume that this Mitzvah was so important that even its subsequent transmission was to be done in public.

The remainder of the Passuk has a similar implication: Moshe is told to preface the Mitzvah with the words “Zeh HaDavar Tziva Hashem Leimor.” This too is a phrase that is not used often concerning Mitzvos, and certainly indicates a specific importance—“Zeh HaDavar.”

On its face, this Mitzvah may not seem so fundamental to Yiddishkeit so as to require this impactful introduction, or the very public Tzivuy it received. Rather than relying on our intuition, which is clearly misplaced in this case, we must look deeper, and try to understand why in fact this Mitzvah receives the treatment it does in the Pessukim.

As with any area of the Torah, the only way to begin to understand this Mitzvah is by examining the words of Chazal that surround it. Indeed, if we look at the Medrashim that discuss these Pessukim, a thread that is helpful to understanding the essence of this Mitzvah becomes apparent.

The Medrash Yelamdenu tells us that this Mitzvah exhibits the love that Hakadosh Baruch Hu has for Klal Yisroel. He says to them: “Why would you want to bring your Korbanos out in the open, in your Machaneh or on a mountain, in full view of the Umos HaOlam? If you wish to bring a Korban, bring it to the Bais HaMikdash.” The Medrash continues, that Hashem did so because the Umos HaOlam would see Bnei Yisroel bringing a Korban Mincha, and scoff at the notion of using mere flour and oil as a Korban. In other words, Hashem does not need the Korban to be brought in the Mikdash, so to speak, but tells Bnei Yisroel to do so in order to be spared the mocking of the Umos HaOlam. It seems then that the Chiba displayed by this Mitzvah is the fact that Hashem protects us from the scorn of other nations.

There is a Medrash Rabbah that has a similar message. The Medrash tells us that there was an Issur Bammos in the Midbar—Bnei Yisroel were not supposed to bring Korbanos outside the Mishkan even prior to this Mitzvah but they did so, and were punished. The Umos HaOlam saw this and reacted with surprise: how can it be that Bnei Yisroel were bringing Korbanos to Hashem, but suffered as a result? Therefore Hashem gave us the Issur of Shechutei Chutz, so that the Issur Bammos would be codified, lending it more weight. Here too, we see that the Mitzvah of Shechhutei Chutz is somehow tied to the reactions and impulses of the Umos HaOlam.

While these two Medrashim offer divergent, almost opposite, explanations for the origin of this Mitzvah, there is a common thread in that both are related to our relationship with the Umos HaOlam. The truth is, however, that both Medrashim are likely explaining the appearance of another unique phrase used in the Pessukim here: Ish Ish M’Bais Yisroel”. These words seem to indicate that this Mitzvah is somehow tied to our identities as Yidden, with each Medrash explaining exactly how and why. The fact remains, however, that the Issur of Shechutei Chutz is rooted in our very existence as the Am HaNivchar.

It would seem that if we can further understand this aspect of the Mitzvah, we may in fact be able to explain the way in which the Torah discusses it in our Parsha. Employing his unbelievable grasp of the Derech HaDrush, the Chasam Sofer explains this Mitzvah in a way that may help us do just that.

At times, there are people who seek to do Mitzvos for reasons other than “Yichud Hashem”—they may do what is right, but for the wrong reasons. For example, one may be willing, or even eager, to share his material wealth with those who are less fortunate or Talmidei Chachamim, but his enthusiasm is tied to the personal honor the Mitzvah brings him. Such a person, explains the Chasam Sofer, is akin to one who brings a Korban outside the Mishkan—yes, he is bringing a Korban, using his resources to help others, but rather than doing it because it is the Ratzon Hashem, he does it for outside reasons.

It is this person that the Torah is speaking to here: we must know that what we do is not nearly as important as why we do it. The same action can be elevated to unimaginable heights if we bring it into the Mishkan, so to speak, performing Mitzvos for the sake of fulfilling the Ratzon Haborei, and not for our own motives.

The message of Shechutei Chutz, then, is that the reasons for our actions, and the thought we put into our Mitzvos, are quite significant—a concept that the Umos HaOlam cannot relate to. They witness someone bringing a Korban Mincha and cannot look past the ingredients. There is no way for them to grasp the fact that this Korban, if brought with the proper intents and Kavanos, is as precious as the most expensive animal. Similarly, the Umos Haolam are totally results driven: if someone brings a Korban to Hashem, it is beyond their comprehension that he may be punished for doing so merely because of the location of the Mizbeach.

The Mitzvah of Shechutei Chutz tells us that those who are defined as Ish Ish M’Bais Yisroel must look beyond the mere action, and think about whether we are truly fulfilling the Ratzon Hashem with our Mitzvos. The right intentions can make flour into a most beautiful Korban, but the most beautiful Korban brought under the wrong circumstances is worthless. Our metric of success is the Kiyum of the Ratzon Hashem, and that alone.

We now can understand why this Mitzvah was given with such apparent fanfare: its essence goes to the root of our mission on this world. This is not just a Mitzvah related to Shechitas Kodshim, though of course it is that as well, but it is a guide for our lives. We must always ensure that all of our Mitzvos are done “in the Mishkan”, following the relevant Halachos and done for the right reasons. It is for this reason that the Torah wished that all parties be present when this Mitzvah was given, and that it is referred to as “Zeh HaDavar Asher Tziva Hashem”, for it provides us with such an important insight into Avodas Hashem.

At any given time in our lives, we face decisions related to our Ruchniasdik existence. Sometimes we may wish to do a Mitzvah, but would be forced to compromise on our standards in order to do so. At other times, we are forced to examine our own motives for action, or even inaction. These Pessukim provide us with a simple litmus test: is our Korban being brought in the Ohel Moed, or are we erecting a Bamma, seeking to connect with Hashem under circumstances that are not keeping with His Ratzon? Answering these questions can help us determine if we are standing outside or stepping in.