Maximizing Potential

The “title” of this week’s Parsha reminds us that there are many areas of the Torah that we cannot understand. The very concept of a “Chok” is that while there are some Mitzvos that are easier to comprehend, there are others that are impossible for us to fathom. As Shlomo HaMelech, the wisest man to live, said “Amarti Echkema, V’hi Rechoka Mimeni.”

While the Para Aduma, which is the first Mitzvah discussed in the Parsha, is the prototypical Chok, the Parsha begins with “Zos Chukas HaTorah” rather than “Zos Chukas HaParah.” Perhaps this is to remind us that just as the Para Aduma cannot be fully understood by mortal man, so too much of the Torah is beyond our comprehension. This applies to Mitzvos, but also to the various stories that occur throughout the Torah. While we can, through the words of Chazal, try to understand them on some level, we will never reach total understanding of Hashem’s ways.

This then is a befitting theme for our Parsha, which contains not only the Mitzvah of Para Aduma, but also the story of the Mei Meriva, wherein Moshe angers Hashem by hitting the rock. Both the Parah Aduma and the story of the Mei Meriva have parts that can be more easily understood, and some that really are beyond our comprehension. In that way the two are connected. But I think there is another connection, a lesson that we can learn, that we can take from both the Parah and the Mei Meriva and apply to our lives.

The Parah Aduma is indeed the “classic” Chok. There are some aspects of the Mitzvah that are come closer to being understood in our human capacity, and many that obviously have meaning and purpose beyond our comprehension. The portion of the Mitzvah that is often cited as passing understanding is the fact that the one who is the Mazeh, who sprinkles the Mei Chattas on the Tammei, himself becomes Tammei. This is paradoxical: if the Parah Aduma is the essence of Tahara, why does the one who carries out the Avodah become Tammei?

Truthfully, the Parah Aduma is not alone in this aspect—there are other times when one carrying out an Avodah becomes Tammei. For example, the one who brings the Sair HaMishtaleach to the Azazel on Yom Kippur becomes Tammei. Similarly, there are certain Korbanos that are burned outside the Mikdash, and the ones who carry out that part of the Avodah become Tammei as well.

There are other instances, though, where this is not the case. The Tzipporei HaMetzorah and Egla Arufa are both types of Avodah that are done outside the Bais HaMikdash, yet the ones who perform the Avodah do not themselves become Tammei.

The question can be asked: Why is it that sometimes the ones doing the Avodah outside the Bais HaMikdash become Tammei and sometimes they do not?

The Meshech Chachma explains the central difference between these two categories of Avodah.

The Seir HaMishtalech begins its journey in the Bais HaMikdash. Two goats are brought in and there is a lottery: one becomes an Olah in the Bais Hamikdash and the other is sent out to the Azazel. In this way, the Seir HaMishtalech has a connection to the Bais Hamikdash—but its ultimate Avodah is outside.

Similarly, the Parim HaNisrafin are burnt outside the Bais Hamikdash, but the beginning of their Avodah—the Sechita and other parts—is done in the Bais Hamikdash.

The Tzipporei HaMetzorah and Egla Arufa, on the other hand, are in no way connected to the Bais Hamikdash: they are performed from beginning to end outside.

One can therefore understand that the reason for the Tummah in the case of the Seir HaMishtaleach and the Parim HaNisrafin are because they have a connection to the Bais Hamikdash, but that potential is not fully realized: their Avodah is performed outside.

The Parah Aduma is in the first category. The Avodah, by its very nature cannot be done in the Bais Hamikdash because the Tammei who needs the Mei Chattas cannot enter. But when the Avodah is done, it is opposite the Mikdash. In fact the Gemarah at the beginning of Meseches Yoma describes in great detail exactly how it was possible for the one performing the Avodah to see the Bais Hamikdash from where he was standing.

In this sense the Parah Aduma is an Avodah that is on the level of being done in the Mikdash—butit is done outside. It is this fact—that the full potential for Kedusha is not realized—that creates the Tummah.

One of the many lessons we can learn from the Parah Aduma, then, is that a failure to maximize potential is itself negative, and Tummah is therefore created.

The story of the Mei Chattas conveys a similar message.

After Miriam was Niftar, the Be’er that had been providing water for Bnei Yisroel until that point ceased to function, and Bnei Yisroel began to complain to Moshe an Aron about the lack of water. In response to these complaints, Hashem told Moshe to speak to a rock and it would give forth water. When Moshe approached the rock, however, he was confronted by the Bnei Yisroel and he struck the rock rather than speaking to it.

We know that as a result of this episode, Moshe was punished and not allowed to enter Eretz Yisroel. But the Torah is not clear exactly what the cause of this anger was, and why Moshe was deserving of this punishment.

In this way the story is itself a Chok: we know the outcome, but we can’t really fully understand the reasons behind it. Once again, though, Chazal have a number of Pshatim that attempt to explain this episode on a level that we can grasp—the Ohr Chaim HaKadosh counts at least ten different opinions—and we have the responsibility to learn from them for our own lives.

The Passuk in which Hashem expressed his anger at Moshe says: “Ya’an Lo HeEmanti Bi L’Hakdisheni: Because you did not believe in me to be Mekadesh my name.” R’ Elyashiv explains, according to Rashi, that the Aveira was that Moshe could have created a bigger Kiddush Hashem by speaking to the rock, rather than hitting it, and was punished for this shortcoming.

An important question to answer with regard to this story is: why did Moshe hit the rock rather than speaking to it? Hashem explicitly said to speak to the rock, why would Moshe have acted differently?

R’ Elyashiv explains that when Moshe approached the rock that Hashem told him to speak to, people started to say that Moshe knew the language of the rocks, and that he would bring forth water that way. Moshe therefore thought that if he spoke to the rock, it wouldn’t be clear that the water came as a result of a Nes, so he struck a different rock with his stick, so as to make it clear that the water came because of a Nes.

Nonetheless, because speaking to the rock would have actually created a bigger Kiddush Hashem, Moshe was punished for not maximizing that potential for Kiddush Shem Shamayim.

Here too we see that a failure, or inability, to maximize potential brings about great destruction.

The message of the Mei Meriva and the Parah Aduma are related: in each case even as one acts in the way that they see as best in the moment, or even as they are commanded to by the Torah, the fact that there is potential that is unrealized is a great detriment.

We all have talents, abilities and potential to do great things. Our responsibility is to understand what our own potential is and to work on maximizing those capabilities to create Kiddush Shem Shamayim.