It’s Electric
Vayikra
The essay explores the significance of humility (Anivus) as exemplified by Moshe Rabbeinu, particularly in the context of the Korbanos and their spiritual implications.
There is an old Minhag that when children begin learning Chumash, they start with the first Passuk in Sefer Vayikra. To many, this seems somewhat odd—the topics discussed in these Parshios are related to Korbanos and other Avodos, hardly material that it is necessary to be familiar with at such a young age. In fact, many are hesitant to learn these Parshios even in their adult years, as the unfamiliar topics can be difficult to relate to. If we learn this Passuk carefully, however, we will see that indeed there is a message that can be appreciated by all, young and old alike.
The Passuk begins: “Vayikra El Moshe Vayidabder Hashem Eilav.” The Passuk uses two words that seem to have similar meaning: Vayikra, and He called, and Vayidaber, and He spoke, leading one to ask why both are necessary. Rashi therefore explains that the word Vayikra is a one of “Chiba”, love, and when Hashem spoke to Moshe, he first called to him in a loving way. This is in contrast to Neviei Umos Haolam, such as Bilaam, who were addressed with term “Vayakar”, a word that not only lacks the implication of Chiba, but is in fact cold and distant.
There is however another aspect of the word Vayikra that is discussed by Achronim.
Each letter in the Aleph-Bais appears one time in a smaller format that usual, and one time a larger form. The Aleph at the end of the word “Vayikra” is smaller, known as the Aleph Zeirah, indiciating that there is a special meaning to this word.
The Ba’al Haturim, in a famous comment, explains that Moshe wished to hide the fact that Hahsem called to him with Chiba, as would be indicated by the word Vayikra, and preferred to write “Vayakar” but Hakadosh Baruch Hu instructed him to write the word as it should appear. The Anivus of Moshe, however, prevented him from writing the word outright, and so it is written with the smaller Aleph. The Aleph Zeirah, then, is a declaration of Moshe’s overriding Middah—Anavah.
It seems, however, that the entire word Vayikra may be seen in this light as well. The Tanchuma here has a lengthy discussion about the virtue of running from Sherara or Kavod, discussing various figures who ran away from the limelight, or made the mistake of actively seeking it. The Medrash continues, showing how Moshe continually tried to avoid being placed in a leadership position that would lend him the appearance of being important, only to be prevented from doing so at every turn by Hashem. The final example given relates to our Parsha: after all the events of Yetzias Mitzrayim, Mattan Torah and the Egel, and after Moshe built the Mishkan, he felt that his work as a leader was done, but Hashem had other plans, declaring that Moshe would now have to teach Bnei Yisroel the Halachos of Korbanos so they could properly use the Mishkan. Thus, once the Mishkan was built, Moshe thought that he could rejoin the ranks of the common, but was once again called into service: “Vayikra El Moshe Vayidabder Hashem Eilav”
This Passuk, then, is itself an illustration of the Anivus of Moshe Rabbeinu: Hashem had to call out to him because otherwise he would not have entered the Mishkan and continued his role as Manhig. So great was the humility of the Anav Mikol Adam that he wished only to fade into the background.
Taking all this into account, we must wonder why the Torah specifically teaches us about Moshe’s Anivus at this point. As the Tanchuma related, there are many instances in which Moshe tired to avoid Kavod, yet he was drawn into service by the Borei Olam. But here, at the beginning of Sefer Vayikra, there seems to be a specific stress—be it through the word Vayikra or the Aleph Zeirah—on the Anivus of Moshe Rabbeinu. Why is this the case?
In order to answer this question, and better explain the Passuk, it seems vital to explore the subject matter at hand: the Inyan of Karbonos.
There is a Machlokes among Rishonim regarding the purpose of Korbanos. The Rambam, in Moreh Nevuchim, explains that we bring animals as Korbanos in response to the use of animals, by the Umos Haolam, as Avodah Zarah. Because the Yidden, prior to Mattan Torah, lived amongst nations that worshipped various animals, the Torah commanded us to use those very same animals as Korbanos in order to illustrate the fallacy of their worship.
The Ramban, however, sees a different purpose to Korbanos. He says that from the fact that the Torah refers to a Korban as Ishe Rayach Nichoach L’Hashem, they must have a much more Ruchniasdik impact. There are two ways to understand this impact, one of which is in the realm of Sod that is beyond us. On a more basic level, we know that the process of being Makriv a Korban is one that brings Kapparah to the various parts of the body that a person used to do Aveiros—the animal stands in his stead in that way, and it is considered as if he had experienced physical pain. The fact that this is possible, for the Korban to be one’s proxy, so to speak, is due to an affect that is beyond us even as we know that it exists: in some way a Korban bridges the Olam Haruchni and the Olam Hagashmi and brings Kapparah. When someone brings a Korban, then, he is carrying out an Avodah that has affects in ways that he cannot even fathom.
The Meshech Chachma, in his Hakdama to Sefer Vayikra, attempts to resolve the Machlokes between the Ramban and Rambam by applying their opinions to two separate types of Korbanos.
Prior to the Hakamas HaMishkan, and then again between the period of the Mishkan and Binyan Bais Hamikdash, there was a concept of a Bamma, a private Mizbeach. During those times, one could build a Mizbeach and bring Korbanos wherever he was, though those Korbanos were certainly on somewhat of a lower level of Kedusha than ones brought in the Mishkan. Once the Bais Hamikdash was built, however, there was no longer a Heter Bamos, and Korbanos could be brought only there.
R’ Meir Simcha posits that the purpose of Korbanos cited by the Rambam, to combat the effects of living among the Goyim, applied to those brought on Bamos. thought they had a lower level of Kedusha, the ability to bring Korbanos on a Bama, by anyone at any location, was an effective protection from Avodah Zarah. The Korbanos of the Mishkan and Mikdash, however, about which the words Ishe Rayach Nichoach L’Hashem are written, serve the purpose explained by the Ramban. Only these Korbanos, brought in the Makom Asher Azkir Es Shemi, the place of Hashraas Hashechina, had the power to fuse the Olamos and had the effect the Ohr Sameach terms “Electri Ruchani”, a spiritual electricity.
With this in mind, it seems that the moment of “Vayikra El Moshe Vayidabder Hashem Eilav” was in fact a turning point in our Avodas Hashem. Until that point, the only Korbanos that could be brought were on Bamos, and had that lower, less impactful purpose. Now, with the Hakamas Hamishkan, Moshe would be told about the higher-level Korbanos—those that have the unique ability to affect the Olam Haruchani through the Olam Hagashmi.
This being the case, a lesson in Anivus is perhaps most appropriate.
The final Mishna in Meseches Sota tells us, among other things: “Mishemes Rebbi Batla Anava V’Yiras HaChet”, once Reb Yehudah Hanassi was Niftar, Anava and Yiras Hachet could not be found in the world. The Gemrah relates that R’ Yosef would tell those repeating this Mishna to omit the word Anava, “D’Ikka Ana, for there is me”. The simplest understanding of the Gemarah is that though the Mishna seems to say that there were no further Anavim once Rebbe was Niftar, R’ Yosef said that the Mishna could be amended for he was now in the world.
R’ Yaakov M’Lisa, known as the Nesivos, asks two rather simple questions on this Gemarah. First, how are the words “D’Ikka Ana” understood—if R’ Yosef was an Anav, rendering the words of the Mishna untrue, would that Middah not preclude him from declaring such? In addition, how do we understand the Mishna to begin with—can we really understand that none of the Tanaaim or Amoraim that followed Rebbe possessed the Middah of Anava, such that the Mishna tells us that the Middah was Batel Min HaOlam?
The Nesivos explains that Rebbe was a rich man, and was the Nasi, but also suffered remarkable physically and emotionally in his lifetime. This unique combination of circumstances showed that wealth and power are worthless if they are not accompanied by health and happiness. Thus, Rebbe’s existence would instill Anava in others, because they would see that those circumstances that generally cause Gaava are indeed nothing to boast about. The Mishna is therefore not commenting on the Anava of others, but on the fact that the lack of a personality such as Rebbe, with his circumstances, would make it more difficult for others to achieve this Middah.
R’ Yosef, continues the Nesivos, had a similar life story to Rebbe—he too was a leader, something of a Nasi, and also suffered tremendous physical Yisurim. He therefore felt that the word Anava could be omitted from the Mishna, “D’Ikka Ana”, because people could learn the lessons of Anava from him, just as they had from Rebbe. These words were not a declaration of his own Anava, but of the ability of others to grow in this vital Middah by looking at him.
We see from the words of the Nesivos that the way to acquire Anava is by realizning why Gaavah, the opposite Middah, is futile. Some people feel a sense of Gaavah because of their material wealth and success—but were they to see Rebbe, or R’ Yosef, they would understand that their haughtiness is ill placed, for all the money and success in the world cannot prevent Yisurim.
At times, one may become haughty based on his successes in Ruchnias as well—he has reached what he considers to be significant heights, and expects praise and adulations as a result. This, however, is only because he does not recognize how high he can truly grow. If he appreciated his capacity and what was left to accomplish, one would never feel a sense of Gaavah regarding his achievements in Ruchnias.
This is why the beginning of our Parsha is an opportune time for a lesson in Anava of Moshe Rabbeinu.
As the Meshech Chachma explained, the Korbanos that were brought in the Mishkan were of a new sort, and they were a testimony to the unbelievable Koach that our actions can have: by bringing a Korban here on earth, we affect the Olamos Elyonim and create the “Electri Ruchani” that affects Kaparah. If we were to fully understand how this works, we would certainly be in awe of our own capacity, our own ability to affect worlds of which we are barely aware.
Moshe Rabbeinu was one who certainly did understand the depths of these concepts, and it was perhaps this understanding that allowed him to become the Anav Mikol Adam. Because he understood our capacity for growth, and the heights he could achieve, he would never fall into the trap of Gaavah, for his own successes would seem insignificant. Thus, at this point, when our eyes are opened to the world of Korbanos, which themselves are a testament to our Kochos and potential, the Torah reminds us of Moshe’s Anava, as if to adjure us to take the lessons of his life, to see what we are truly capable of and allow that to temper any Gaavah we may have.
This is an important lesson to keep in mind as we learn the Parshios of Vayikra. Though we may be unfamiliar with the subject matter, we should remember that the Inyan of Korbanos is one that screams of our abilities as members of the Am Hanivchar. The fact that our actions can have such lofty effects should cause us to strive for the greatness that we can achieve, to be among those that bridge the Olam Hagashmi with the Olam Haruchani, bringing close the day in which we can once again bring Korbanos in the Makom Hamikdash.