Certain Uncertainty

קׇרְבָּנוֹ קַעֲרַת־כֶּסֶף אַחַת שְׁלֹשִׁים וּמֵאָה מִשְׁקָלָהּ מִזְרָק אֶחָד כֶּסֶף שִׁבְעִים שֶׁקֶל בְּשֶׁקֶל הַקֹּדֶשׁ

שְׁנֵי אוֹיְבִים לֹא נֶאֶרְרוּ עַד שֶׁהִשְּׁלִים עֲלֵיהֶם שִׁבְעִים פְּסוּקִים, הַנָּחָשׁ וְהָמָן הָרָשָׁע

In Parshas Nasso, we learn about the Korbanos HaNesiim, which were brought when the Mishkan was inaugurated. While each Nasi brought his Korban on a separate day, the Korbanos themselves were exactly the same, yet the Torah enumerates each Korban separately. This seems to indicate that although the items offered each day were identical, there was some difference between them, and indeed the Medrash Rabba, there, speaks at length about the Kavanos related to each day’s Korbanos. The Medrash establishes a general theme for the Korbanos brought by each Shevet, and then shows how each item included in the Korban related to that idea.

After this lengthy discussion, the Medrash offers an apparently differing opinion: רַבִּי פִּינְחָס בֶּן יָאִיר אָמַר כְּנֶגֶד הַדּוֹרוֹת שֶׁהָיוּ מֵאָדָם הָרִאשׁוֹן וְעַד הַמִּשְׁכָּן, וּכְנֶגֶד הַמִּצְווֹת שֶׁנִּצְטַוּוּ הִקְרִיבוּ הַנְּשִׂיאִים. R’ Pinchas ben Yair explains that the Nesiim shared the same Kavanos in their Korbanos: each brough items that related to the Doros between Adam HaRishon and the Mishkan, and the Mitzvos that had been given during that period.

One of the parts of each day’s Korban was מִזְרָק אֶחָד כֶּסֶף שִׁבְעִים שֶׁקֶל בְּשֶׁקֶל הַקֹּדֶשׁ, a silver vessel that weighed seventy Shekel. The Medrash explains the significance of this weight, according to R’ Pinchas ben Yair: לָמָּה שִׁבְעִים, כְּנֶגֶד מֵרֹאשׁ סֵפֶר בְּרֵאשִׁית, עַד קִלְלַת נָחָשׁ, שִׁבְעִים פְּסוּקִים. The seventy Shekel correspond to the number of Pessukim between the beginning of the Torah and the קְלָלָה issued to the נָחָשׁ after the חֵטְא עֵץ הַדַּעַת.

The Medrash continues, telling us of another significance to these seventy Pessukim: שְׁנֵי אוֹיְבִים לֹא נֶאֶרְרוּ עַד שֶׁהִשְּׁלִים עֲלֵיהֶם שִׁבְעִים פְּסוּקִים. There were two אוֹיְבִים, enemies, that were punished after seventy Pessukim, הַנָּחָשׁ וְהָמָן הָרָשָׁע. The נָחָשׁ is punished in the seventieth Passuk of Parshas Beraishis, as noted earlier in the Medrash, and the death of Haman comes seventy Pessukim after the words אַחַר  הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה גִּדַּל הַמֶּלֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ אֶת־הָמָן.

How can we understand this last part of the Medrash? How are the נָחָשׁ and Haman connected to one another? Why do they share this unique aspect as the two אוֹיְבִים whose punishment comes seventy Pessukim after their stories begin? What is the Medrash teaching us?

The truth is that in some ways, this connection seems almost manifest.

The Gemara in Chullin asks: הָמָן מִן הַתּוֹרָה מִנַּיִן, seeking a Remez to Haman that can be found in Chumash. The answer comes from the Pessukim at the beginning of Parshas Beraishis: הֲמִן־הָעֵץ אֲשֶׁר צִוִּיתִיךָ לְבִלְתִּי אֲכׇל־מִמֶּנּוּ אָכָלְ. The Passuk in which HKBH addresses the Chet of Adam and Chava, brought about by the Nachash, hints at the name of Haman. This further establishes a connection between the שְׁנֵי אוֹיְבִים referenced in the Medrash, but does not explain why this is the case. Why are the Nachash and Haman so closely related, and what does this teach us?

Seeing as the נָּחָשׁ, and his קְלָלָה came long before that of הָמָן, we can begin there.

In Parshas Beraishis, the Torah introduces the נָּחָשׁ as follows: וְהַנָּחָשׁ הָיָה עָרוּם מִכֹּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה. In one sense, this Passuk seems to be a continuation of the one just before it, in which we are told: וַיִּהְיוּ שְׁנֵיהֶם עֲרוּמִּים הָאָדָם וְאִשְׁתּוֹ וְלֹא יִתְבֹּשָׁשׁוּ. The Torah tells us that Adam and Chava were placed into Gad Eden without clothing, and were not abashed. The words וְהַנָּחָשׁ הָיָה עָרוּם seem related to the description of Adam and Chava, but this is difficult to understand: עָרוּם is a binary state—one is either clothed or not—so why does the Torah say עָרוּם מִכֹּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה? How could the נָּחָשׁ have been more עָרוּם than any other being?

The answer to this question seems to be found in Pirkei D’Rebi Eliezer, which speaks of סָמָאֵל שַׂר גָּדוֹל בַּשָּׁמַיִם , who wished to bring evil into this world, and sought a being to serve as his tool. The Medrash continues, telling us: וְלֹא מָצָא בָּהֶם חָכָם לְהָרַע כַּנָּחָשׁ. The Medrash brings a proof that the נָּחָשׁ was חָכָם לְהָרַע to a greater extent than any other animal: the words וְהַנָּחָשׁ הָיָה עָרוּם מִכֹּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה.

We see that the word עָרוּם, in this case, does not mean unclothed, but instead refers to the abilities of the נָּחָשׁ to be חָכָם לְהָרַע. The Torah is therefore telling us that the נָּחָשׁ was more cunning and deceitful than any other being. This is not just a description of the נָּחָשׁ, but his very definition.

This definition of the Nachash is called into question, however, if we consider the following Pessukim.

As the Nachash engages Chava in conversation, we do not find him to actually be that devious; he simply asks her whether Hashem indeed forbade her from eating from every tree. Then, when Chava confirms this with the words וּמִפְּרִי הָעֵץ אֲשֶׁר בְּתוֹךְ־הַגַּן אָמַר אֱלֹקִים לֹא תֹאכְלוּ מִמֶּנּוּ וְלֹא תִגְּעוּ בּוֹ פֶּן־תְּמֻתוּן, the Nachash simply contradicts her: וַיֹּאמֶר הַנָּחָשׁ אֶל־הָאִשָּׁה לֹא־מוֹת תְּמֻתוּן. He does then concoct an explanation for why HKBH may have told Adam and Chava not to eat from the עֵץ הַדַּעַת, but that does not seem particularly sly either.

If indeed the Nachash was עָרוּם מִכֹּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה, and singularly חָכָם לְהָרַע, why do we not see that in the few Pessukim that describe his actions?

The Chassam Sofer, in his Pirush on Chumash, asks a few similar questions about these Pessukim.

Why, he asks, would the Nachash even consider contradicting the words of Hashem? If Chava had heard directly from HKBH that she was not to eat from the עֵץ הַדַּעַת, why would the Nachash even attempt to convince her otherwise? Even more so, he notes, it is astounding that Chava listened. As we know, she heard the words וּמֵעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע לֹא תֹאכַל מִמֶּנּוּ כִּי בְּיוֹם אֲכׇלְךָ מִמֶּנּוּ מוֹת תָּמוּת from HKBH—why did she listen to the Nachash and his justifications?

The Chassam Sofer answers these questions by explaining the opening tha Nachas found in Chava’s words.

Hashem told Adam and Chava that they may eat from any of the trees in Gan Eden, other than the עֵץ הַדַּעַת, adding the words כִּי בְּיוֹם אֲכׇלְךָ מִמֶּנּוּ מוֹת תָּמוּת. When Chava spoke to the Nachash, however, she reported this Tzivuy differently, saying that Hashem said לֹא תֹאכְלוּ מִמֶּנּוּ וְלֹא תִגְּעוּ בּוֹ פֶּן־תְּמֻתוּן. The word פֶּן, which Chava added, has two connotations—it can mean “lest” or “perhaps”—and so the words פֶּן תְּמֻתוּן can be understood as “lest you die” or “perhaps you will die”. The Chassam Sofer explains that Chava meant the latter—after all, she had heard the consequences from HBKH directly—but the Nachash seized upon this minuscule bit of ambiguity and created an opening.

The Chassam Sofer continues, expanding on the words of the Nachash. When Hahsem said that once they ate from the עֵץ הַדַּעַת they would become יֹדְעֵי טוֹב וָרָע, explained the Nachash, it meant that they would be subject to the Yetzer Harah for Gashmius of Olam Hazeh. This could mean disaster, but the עֵץ הַדַּעַת would also give them the ability to overcome the Yetzer Harah, achieving greatness. The outcome of this decision was therefore in question; it was a situation of פֶּן תְּמֻתוּן, presenting an ambiguous destiny.

With this explanation, we can see the חָכָם לְהָרַע by which the Nachash is defined. Chava added one word, פֶּן, and that little bit of uncertainty was enough for the עָרוּם מִכֹּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה to insert himself. The חָכָם לְהָרַע finds any small amount of doubt or hesitation and uses that create distance between his target and HKBH. Even though Chava knew that eating the עֵץ הַדַּעַת would lead to an eventuality of מוֹת תָּמוּת—she had heard so directly from Hashem—but when she showed the slightest bit of uncertainty, the Nachash pounced.

This is the way of the Nachash, and it seems, the Koach of Amalek.

In Parshas Beshalach, the Torah describes the events of Refidim, where there was no water to drink. Moshe Rabbienu then hit a rock, as instructed by HKBH, וְיָצְאוּ מִמֶּנּוּ מַיִם וְשָׁתָה הָעָם. The Torah then tells us: וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם הַמָּקוֹם מַסָּה וּמְרִיבָה עַל־רִיב  בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל...לֵאמֹר הֲיֵשׁ ה' בְּקִרְבֵּנוּ אִם־אַיִן. The location of this episode was known as מַסָּה וּמְרִיבָה because it was there that Bnei Yisroel asked הֲיֵשׁ ה' בְּקִרְבֵּנוּ אִם־אַיִן.

The next Passuk describes the events that followed: וַיָּבֹא עֲמָלֵק וַיִּלָּחֶם עִם־יִשְׂרָאֵל בִּרְפִידִם.

As soon as there was some hint of ambiguity, some uncertainty, Amalek appeared. Bnei Yisroel did not deny the existence of Hashem or his Hashgacha—after all, they had seen the Nissim of Yetzias Mitzrayim and Krias Yam Suf just a short time prior—but there was a momentary lapse, a second of doubt, and it was there that Amalek found its opening.

It seems that Haman inherited this ability as well, striking at a time of uncertainty.

The Medrash Rabba, in Parshas Vayishlach tells us: רְאוּיִים הָיוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל כְּלָיָה בִּימֵי הָמָן, Klal Yisroel was deserving of destruction at the time of Haman because they made an inaccurate calculation. The said: אָמְרוּ מָה אָבִינוּ יַעֲקֹב שֶׁהִבְטִיחוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא וְאָמַר לוֹ: וְהִנֵּה אָנֹכִי עִמָּךְ, נִתְיָירֵא, אָנוּ עַל אַחַת כַּמָּה וְכַמָּה. When Yaakov Avinu was leaving for Charan, he was given a promise, as Hashem told himוְהִנֵּה אָנֹכִי עִמָּךְ, yet before he encountered Esav, the Passuk tells us וַיִּירָא יַעֲקֹב מְאֹד. If this was the case, they reasoned, all the more so should they be afraid of Haman.

Faced with the threat of Haman, Klal Yisroel immediately began to question their survival, prompting them to make the Cheshbon that they were no better off than Yaakov Avinu. It was this fear that made them susceptible to Haman, as the Medrash says רְאוּיִים הָיוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל כְּלָיָה בִּימֵי הָמָן. In this way, they too were asking הֲיֵשׁ ה' בְּקִרְבֵּנוּ אִם־אַיִן.

This can be seen in the way the Megillah speaks about their reaction to the news of the plan that Haman made. The Passuk says הָרָצִים יָצְאוּ דְחוּפִים בִּדְבַר הַמֶּלֶךְ וְהַדָּת נִתְּנָה בְּשׁוּשַׁן הַבִּירָה וְהַמֶּלֶךְ וְהָמָן יָשְׁבוּ לִשְׁתּוֹת וְהָעִיר שׁוּשָׁן נָבוֹכָה. When the messengers went out, Haman Achashverosh celebrated, וְהָעִיר שׁוּשָׁן נָבוֹכָה. The word נָבוֹכָה does not mean sad or desperate, it means confused, or bewildered. The news of their impending destruction led the Yidden of Shushan to a place of uncertainty, and it was then that the Medrash tells us רְאוּיִים הָיוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל כְּלָיָה .

This idea can help us understand a Medrash in Esther Rabba as well.

The Medrash tells us that after the decree was signed Haman and his entourage, drunk with glee at their impending success, encountered Mordechai Hatzaddik and observed his actions. At that time, וְרָאָה מָרְדֳּכַי שְׁלשָׁה תִּינוֹקוֹת שֶׁהָיוּ בָּאִים מִבֵּית הַסֵּפֶר, וְרָץ מָרְדֳּכַי אַחֲרֵיהֶם, Mordechai noticed three young boys and ran after them. When he caught up to them, שָׁאַל לְאֶחָד מֵהֶם פְּסֹק לִי פְּסוּקֶיךָ, he asked the boys what they had learned that day.

Each boy responded with a Passuk, which the Medrash enumerates. The first quoted a Passuk from Mishlei: אַל תִּירָא מִפַּחַד פִּתְאֹם וּמִשֹּׁאַת רְשָׁעִים כִּי תָבֹא. The next two mentioned Pessukim in Yeshayahu, עֻצוּ עֵצָה וְתֻפָר דַּבְּרוּ דָבָר וְלֹא יָקוּם, and עַד זִקְנָה אֲנִי הוּא וְעַד שֵׂיבָה אֲנִי אֶסְבֹּל אֲנִי עָשִׂיתִי וַאֲנִי אֶשָֹּׂא וַאֲנִי אֶסְבֹּל וַאֲמַלֵּט. The Medrash relates how those who heard this exchange reacted: כֵּיוָן שֶׁשָּׁמַע מָרְדֳּכַי כָּךְ שָׂחַק וְהָיָה שָׂמֵחַ שִׂמְחָה גְדוֹלָה, Mordchai was joyful, and Haman asked why, to which Mordechai responded: עַל בְּשׂוֹרוֹת טוֹבוֹת שֶׁבִּשְׂרוּנִי שֶׁלֹא אֶפְחַד מִן הָעֵצָה הָרָעָה שֶׁיָּעַצְתָּ עָלֵינוּ, the boys had informed Mordechai that he need not fear Haman. The Medrash concludes: מִיָּד כָּעַס הָמָן הָרָשָׁע.

If the Koach of Hamman came from fear and uncertainty, this astounding Medrash is well understood.

Mordechai asked the boys what they had learned, and each responded with a Passuk that echoed fierce determination, and Emunah. Words such as אַל תִּירָא מִפַּחַד פִּתְאֹם and עֻצוּ עֵצָה וְתֻפָר are the exact opposite of הֲיֵשׁ ה' בְּקִרְבֵּנוּ אִם־אַיִן. These Pessukim declare the certainty that HKBH will help us, even when the path is not clear. Once Mordechai heard that the children of Klal Yisroel were being imbued with this attitude, with an outlook of אַל תִּירָא מִפַּחַד פִּתְאֹם, he understood that Haman would ultimately fail, that the window created by the general reaction of וְהָעִיר שׁוּשָׁן נָבוֹכָה would be closed. Indeed these boys informed Mordecahi that there was nothing to fear, שֶׁלֹא אֶפְחַד מִן הָעֵצָה הָרָעָה שֶׁיָּעַצְתָּ עָלֵינוּ. When Haman heard this, he was rightfully angry, because he saw that his heritage was threatened. Like Amalek and the Nachash, his ability was predicated on uncertainty, and he saw a certitude that would render him ineffectual.

This is the message of the Medrash: שְׁנֵי אוֹיְבִים לֹא נֶאֶרְרוּ עַד שֶׁהִשְּׁלִים עֲלֵיהֶם שִׁבְעִים פְּסוּקִים. The Nachash and Haman met their ends in similar ways because their abilities stemmed from the same place. It follows, that if we wish to combat their descendants, our enemies foreign and domestic, threats to our Ruchniyas and Gashmius, we must resist the urge of uncertainty. If we can strengthen ourselves so that the question of הֲיֵשׁ ה' בְּקִרְבֵּנוּ אִם־אַיִן never crosses our minds or lips, we will be victorious, seeing all of our enemies meet their rightful ends.