Monday, June 9, 2025

Parashat Beha’alotcha: Carrying the Light - How is Torah as the Prerequisite for Dwelling in the Land?

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Parashat Beha’alotcha
Carrying the Light - How is Torah the Prerequisite for Dwelling in the Land?



Is Israel a Secular or Torah-based State?
Lately, I’ve had meaningful discussions with students and friends who have questioned the legitimacy of Medinat Yisrael – the State of Israel. While many of the early Zionists who fought for Israel’s establishment were secular and the State was initially founded with a largely secular framework, we must not overlook the deeper spiritual underpinnings at its foundation.
The first draft of Israel’s Declaration of Independence, prepared by Mordechai Beham, opened with a bold acknowledgment of our sacred inheritance: “Whereas this Holy Land has been promised by the Lord God to our fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and their seed after them…” This reference was later removed by secular Zionists, sparking a passionate debate between the religious and secular leaders of the time. Eventually, a compromise was reached. The final document concluded with the phrase: “Placing our trust in the Rock of Israel, we affix our signatures to this proclamation.”
The expression Tzur Yisrael (“Rock of Israel”) appears several times in the Torah as a reference to G-d. Yet the secular Zionists could interpret it more ambiguously, as a symbol of the Jewish people’s enduring strength. Still, the fact that even this phrase remained reflects the deep tension – and connection – between the spiritual and political dimensions of the State.

What is the Extent of Torah Learning and Observance in the State of Israel?
No matter how one chooses to interpret the origins of the modern State of Israel, I see the Torah at its core. To give a sense of scale, at the beginning of 2024, there were around 169,366 Hereidi yeshiva and kollel students in Israel. More than 20,000 students were learning in dati leumi institutions, and around 7,439 women were enrolled in seminaries in the 2021–2022 academic year. Remarkably, all of these students receive stipends from the so-called “secular” state – to study Torah.
And beyond the official statistics, there are tens of thousands of additional Israelis – like my husband and me – who are actively engaged in Torah learning and teaching, even without being formally registered in a yeshiva or midrasha.
For me, coming to Israel and coming to Torah were inextricably connected. Unlike the environment in which I was raised, Israel is a land where Torah is alive. It boasts many neighborhoods where Shabbat is observed. The Shabbat atmosphere is tangibly felt in the streets, where only emergency vehicles pass, and families stroll peacefully in sanctified time. Most importantly, there is a vast array of institutions dedicated to deep Torah learning, for men and women alike. Torah is not a niche pursuit here – it is embedded in the rhythm of life.

What Does It Mean to Rekindle the Light of Holiness Each Day?
Parashat Beha’alotecha begins the final preparations for the Israelites’ journey from the Sinai desert to the Promised Land. It opens with the instructions for Aharon, the Kohen Gadol, to tend to the light of the Menorah:

ספר במדבר פרק ח פסוק ב דַּבֵּר אֶל אַהֲרֹן וְאָמַרְתָּ אֵלָיו בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ אֶת הַנֵּרֹת אֶל מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה יָאִירוּ שִׁבְעַת הַנֵּרוֹת:
“Speak to Aharon and say to him: When you light the lamps, the seven lamps shall cast their light toward the face of the menorah” (Bamidbar 8:2).

The Ohr Hachayim draws our attention to something surprising: the Torah does not treat the lights as fixed parts of the Menorah. If the cups were permanently attached, why would the verse separately list “its lights, its tongs, and its fire pans” when describing how to wrap up the Menorah for transport (Bamidbar 4:9)? Clearly, the cups were movable. The Ohr Hachayim even notes how this is supported by the verse: “the menorot (candelabras) and their lamps” (II Divrei HaYamim 4:20), implying they are not one and the same. He explains that Aharon would remove, clean, reset, and rekindle the cups each day – a process of daily renewal, not mere routine. So why is this detail so meaningful? Because Aharon, feeling a sense of loss for not participating in the tribal offerings at the dedication of the Mishkan, was comforted with a task that transcends time: “Yours is greater than theirs – for you will kindle and prepare the candles” (Tanchuma Beha’alothecha 3 cited by Rashi, Bamidbar 8:2).
Unlike the tribal offerings that occurred once, Aharon’s avodah (service) was continuous, bringing new light into the world each day. Each rekindling was considered a new Chanukat HaMenorah – a daily rededication of light (Ohr Hachayim, Bamidbar 8:2).

The Deeper Message for Life in Eretz Yisrael
In our own lives, especially in Eretz Yisrael, this teaching offers a profound message. Life in the Land requires constant renewal. There is no autopilot for holiness. Whether we’re facing bureaucratic frustration, ideological tension, or the mundane routines of daily life, the soul of Eretz Yisrael calls us to be like Aharon – to awaken and raise up the light anew.
Just as the Menorah’s candles were not fixed – they had to be removed, cleaned, and reset – so too we are invited to continually reawaken our spiritual focus. The Land of Israel is not passive; it interacts with us, mirrors us, and calls for our intentionality. Each mitzvah here, even repeated daily, is a fresh opportunity to draw down Divine light. Even when the act is externally the same, the inner intention – kavanah – transforms it into something new.

Renewed Service Beyond Routine
Rashi teaches us that the Torah and the mitzvot should not appear to you as an antiquated edict which no one cares about, but as a new one, which everyone hastens to read, as it states, “these words, which I command you today shall be upon your heart” (Devarim 6:6). We learn from this never to say, “I’ve already done this mitzvah.” Instead, we must perform each act as if it were the first time. This is the spiritual training embedded in the daily lighting of the Menorah – and in our lives in the Holy Land.
Living in Eretz Yisrael demands perseverance. But it also offers a powerful gift: the opportunity to engage in constant renewal. Whether you’re planting a tree, teaching Torah, raising children, or simply sweeping your doorstep with love for the Land, you’re part of the daily rekindling of the Divine light. Like Aharon, you are reassembling the sacred, cup by cup, flame by flame.
Let us then walk into each day with the awareness that holiness is never static. The Menorah’s flame calls to us: Reignite your light. Clean your vessel. Lift it up anew.

Letting our Flame Rise on Its Own in the Land of Light
Rashi furthermore notes the unusual word בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ/beha’alotcha used in our Torah verse for igniting which literally means “when you cause to ascend.” He explains, based on Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 21a, that since the flame rises, Scripture describes kindling in terms of ascending. He is required to kindle the lamp until the flame rises by itself. This concept is often cited for educational purposes. As teachers, we must not just do the tasks for our students or even show them how. Rather, we must exercise patience, allowing the student to practice what she has learned until she can perform it independently, no longer reliant on her teacher.
During the Israelites’ wilderness journeys, Hashem literally spoon-fed His people with daily manna and fresh water from the well. He also protected them from enemies, snakes, and scorpions within His Cloud of Glory. Yet, to conquer the land of Canaan, the Children of Israel had to grow up and take the swords into their own hands. They had to take up a hatchet and a pickaxe to break the hardened ground and transform it into fertile fields, producing enough to sustain their families. They needed to become like the flame that rises by itself, no longer dependent on their Father in Heaven to provide for them unconditionally. How fitting, then, was Aharon’s mitzvah of causing the flames to ascend as a preparation for entering the Land of Israel, where we are called to rise to the challenge of applying our own efforts, until our flame rises on its own.

The Ark Guides Our Path and Leads the Way to the Land of Israel
Yet Hashem is not leaving us completely to our own devices. His Holy Ark will accompany us into the Land of Israel and bring about His protection from our enemies. Moshe’s request that Hashem rise reflects our rising – like the flame that ascends on its own. When we rise to eradicate evil and spread light, we elicit Hashem’s response to complete our endeavor through the light of the Torah.
Igniting the lights of the Menorah parallels the Ark, which carries the Luchot – the Tablets of the Covenant – as it states, “For a candle is a mitzvah and Torah is light” (Mishlei 6:23). Just as the lights must ascend on their own, the Ark went ahead of the people. It did not follow them – it led them. The journey into the Land of Israel begins with the Ark, the container of Torah. Just as light precedes movement, Torah precedes and guides the people’s path. Without the Ark, there is no direction; without Torah, the journey is devoid of purpose.

ספר במדבר פרק י פסוק לה וַיְהִי בִּנְסֹעַ הָאָרֹן וַיֹּאמֶר משֶׁה קוּמָה הַשֵׁם וְיָפֻצוּ אֹיְבֶיךָ וְיָנֻסוּ מְשַׂנְאֶיךָ מִפָּנֶיךָ:
“So it was, whenever the ark set out, Moshe would say, Arise, O Hashem let Your enemies be scattered and may those who hate You flee from You” (Bamidbar 10:35).d

The Zohar teaches that the Shechinah traveled with the Ark (Zohar Part 3, 155a). Wherever the Ark went, the Divine Presence went. Thus, Torah is not only the prerequisite for entering the Land – it is the channel for bringing the Shechinah into it. The sanctity of Eretz Yisrael is not automatic; it is called into being and sustained through the light of Torah.
Rather, certainly He (Hashem) did not turn His face away from them. So what happened at the moment the Ark began to rest? Moshe said, “Return, Hashem…” and then the Ark would settle, and the Shechinah would stand on another side, with Her face toward Israel and toward the Ark.
When we live in Eretz Yisrael today, we are not simply inheriting land – we are fulfilling an eternal covenant. But just like our ancestors in the wilderness, we must first carry the Ark. We must let Torah go before us, illuminate our way, and guide our choices. Only then does our dwelling in the Land become a true yerushah – not just a physical inheritance, but a spiritual one.

Wednesday, June 4, 2025

Parashat Naso: What is the Connection Between External Order and Fulfilling our Inner Mission?

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Parashat Naso
What is the Connection Between External Order and Fulfilling our Inner Mission?  



What is Preferable: External Order and Stability or Inner Warmth and Care?
I grew up in a highly functioning, law-abiding country where all the external frameworks operated like clockwork. The streets and sidewalks were clean, green, and beautifully maintained; the public systems – from libraries to healthcare – were well-funded and reliable. In fact, I recently noticed that according to U.S. News & World Report, Denmark ranks #1 in the world for quality of life, based on education, healthcare, political transparency, economic security, and general societal well-being. Growing up in such an efficient and stable environment should have brought a deep sense of contentment. Yet, I never felt truly fulfilled in what might be called ‘The Dreamland of Denmark.’
Despite its polished exterior and near-perfect punctuality – where trains always arrive precisely as announced – something essential was missing. I find myself far more at home in a land of constant challenge and unpredictable rhythms. Even during times of conflict and uncertainty, I choose to live in Israel – a place bursting with soul. While Israel may lack the external order of Denmark, it overflows with purpose, connection, and vibrancy. Yes, I may have to stoop to pick up stray candy wrappers on the sidewalk – a sight unimaginable in suburban Denmark – but I do so with joy, knowing I walk streets rich with meaning, history, and heart. A society may be perfectly orderly on the outside yet lacking in inner meaning and mission. In Israel, it’s not about appearances – it’s about essence. The laughter of children, the warmth of strangers, and the shared sense of mission here speak to something far deeper than surface-level perfection ever could.

Why Does Parashat Naso Mention the Suspected Adulteress, the Nazarite, and the Thief?
Parashat Naso seems to continue the national themes introduced in Parashat Bamidbar: the census of the tribes, the inauguration of the Mishkan, and the offerings of the tribal leaders. While reading HaRav Aharon Lichtenstein’s article, The Embedded Message, on Parashat Naso, I was struck by his observation that even within the structured and clearly defined national order of the wilderness journey – with its census, banners, and division of Levitical roles – the Torah does not lose sight of the moral and spiritual development of the individual. Interwoven in this narrative are seemingly personal and unrelated topics – the thief who confesses and repays (Bamidbar 5:5-10), the suspected adulteress (5:11-31), and the Nazir who abstains from wine and seeks higher holiness (6:1-21). Why are these inserted here, interrupting the flow of collective preparation for the sanctification of the Mishkan and entry into Eretz Yisrael?
Precisely because the Torah is teaching us that a nation’s spiritual destiny is only as strong as its individuals. In the midst of grand national missions – the revelation of the Shechinah in the Mishkan, and the historical march into the Land – the Torah zooms in on personal struggles: betrayal, longing, inner restraint, and restitution. The message is clear. The sanctity of the Mishkan depends not only on the proper placement of tribes or ritual service, but on the moral integrity of each individual. Without a foundation of personal fidelity, integrity, and spiritual yearning, the collective cannot sustain its calling.
The Torah thus ensures that no soul is forgotten. The lonely convert, the wayward woman, the aspiring ascetic – each has a place in the unfolding destiny of Am Yisrael. A society striving for holiness must care not only for its national structure but also for its moral fiber, woven one soul at a time.

What is the Ideal Relationship between Outer Details and Inner Refinement?
The ultimate goal is a radiant soul in a healthy body on both an individual and a national dimension. We don’t have to sell ourselves short, we can aspire toward the highest spiritual content encased in the most organized external parameters. For any community to thrive, we need law and order. Role divisions need to be clearly defined, and all community members must carry out their responsibilities and know who to turn to for questions and directions. Parashat Naso highlights the meticulous arrangements needed for the Israelites’ journey on their way to settling in the land.  It provides details about preparations for entering the Land of Israel, particularly focusing on the organization of the camp and the Levites’ responsibilities in carrying the holy vessels. When it comes to the G-d given mitzvot, even physical structures and external order become spiritual and infused with inner meaning and mission. The many details and even repetitions of the sacrifices of the princes of each tribe become infused with meaning, as they are intended not only to provide the external particulars but to teach us an inner lesson about character development.
Parashat Naso is the longest parasha in the entire Chumash because it repeats word for word the offering of each of the tribes instead of just paraphrasing that all the tribes offered the exact same such and such. This demonstrates that although the princes brought the same precise offering, none of them copied their friend. Each had his own personal relationship with his offering. Because of each tribe’s original intention, excitement, and awareness, the Torah described each of their offerings in its own section. Another reason for the repetition of the tribal sacrifices word by word is due to Hashem’s great pleasure with their identical offering of unity that rectified the sibling jealousy of Kain and Hevel. When external details are infused with inner refinement, then even otherwise tedious repetition becomes meaningful.

How Do We Carry the Sanctuary Within Our Unique Spiritual Mission?
The census in Parashat Naso, which continues the census begun in Parashat Bamidbar, moreover alludes to the inner spiritual intention within the exterior positions and roles. The designated roles of the families within the tribe of Levi in carrying and assembling the Mishkan hint at how each family had a unique portion of the holy structure to bear upon their shoulders, not just physically, but also spiritually.

במדבר פרק ד פסוק מז
מִבֶּן שְׁלֹשִׁים שָׁנָה וָמַעְלָה וְעַד בֶּן חֲמִשִּׁים שָׁנָה כֹּל הַבָּא לַעֲבֹד עֲבֹדַת עֲבֹדָה וַעֲבֹדַת מַשָּׂא בְּאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד:
“From thirty years old and up to fifty years old, all who come to serve the service of service and the service of carrying in the Tent of Meeting” (Bamidbar 4:47).

While Ha’amek Davar emphasizes the transition from supernatural guidance in the wilderness to a more hidden Divine providence in the Land, Parashat Naso moreover suggests that the service of carrying the Mishkan was not merely a physical duty – it was a spiritual apprenticeship. This desert service trained each individual to become a vessel for the Shechinah – a sacred preparation for dwelling with Divine presence in Eretz Yisrael. Each person had their role, their burden, and their sacred responsibility, just as each soul in Eretz Yisrael today has a unique spiritual mission to carry.
The Sefat Emet explains that just as each angel has a unique root and mission, so too each member of Am Yisrael longed to know their soul’s root and place of rectification. Though we cannot see this with our physical eyes, through the Torah, each person can find their spiritual origin. Some rare individuals may ascend entirely through their deeds, but even those who are not on that level can leap beyond their natural rung through longing and will alone. “Each man by his camp and under his banner” represents this dual path of fixed service and spiritual aspiration. In this way, every individual’s unique role in the camp mirrors their deeper mission in the Divine structure of the nation, especially as it manifests in the holiness of Eretz Yisrael (Sefat Emet, Bamidbar, year 5639).

Carrying Our Sacred Responsibility in the Land
The Levites carried the Mishkan in the desert. Today, we carry the sanctity of the Land in our own way. Living in Eretz Yisrael is not always easy – there are physical challenges, bureaucratic obstacles, and moments of loneliness. But just as each Levi had to bear his assigned portion – whether it was the heavy planks, the shimmering curtains, or the sacred vessels – each of us carries our piece of the collective inheritance.
Living in Bat Ayin, we can perceive how every soul brings a different panel, a different curtain, a different vessel to the collective sanctuary of our people. Each student who comes to learn Torah, plant a garden, raise children, or simply breathe in the holiness of the Land is carrying their part of the Mishkan – their avodat hakodesh. Each of us, with our unique contribution and role in the community, reflects our deeper spiritual mission, aligned with our soul’s root and place of rectification within the Divine structure of the nation.