"Worth the Wait"
Behaalotecha 5780
Mr. Langer was a
gentleman from the Upper West Side of Manhattan, a prominent supporter of many
different Yeshivos in the United States, during the former half of the 20th
century. He was among those who provided the initial funds to establish
Yeshivas Kletzk in the United States in a resort town in New Jersey named
Lakewood, now one of the largest Yeshivos in the world. Unfortunately, Mr.
Langer lost his wealth later in life, and with it, his influence and prestige
waned. His phone, which used to ring off the hook from Rabbis who desired his
counsel, and especially his donations, went silent. There was, however, one
person who didn’t forget about him, and continued to call regularly. One individual for whom hakaras haTov was more important than Mr. Langer’s current
financial status and who single handedly kept his dignity intact. It was Rav
Aharon Kotler, the Rosh Yeshiva of the Lakewood Yeshiva[1].
Imagine how
difficult it must be one day to be treated like an all-star and to feel like a
pariah the next- how do we contend with such emotionally complex and painful
circumstances? The beauty of the Torah
is that it doesn’t just tell us stories or provide a list of laws; it also
deals with human nature and the vicissitudes of life such as these.
Miriam had just
engaged in a gossip session with her brother Aharon; the subject was as old as
time- family politics. Miriam, voicing concern about Moshe’s marriage and her
younger brother’s treatment of his wife, began to vent to Aharon.
While it's not
clear where Moshe was during this conversation, he does not have to defend his
own honor. Hashem immediately rebukes Miriam instead, punishing her with a bout
of tzaraas and subsequently banishing
her from the camp for seven days:
במדבר
פרק יב
(טו) וַתִּסָּגֵ֥ר
מִרְיָ֛ם
מִח֥וּץ
לַֽמַּחֲנֶ֖ה
שִׁבְעַ֣ת
יָמִ֑ים
וְהָעָם֙ לֹ֣א
נָסַ֔ע
עַד־הֵאָסֵ֖ף
מִרְיָֽם:
15 And Miriam was shut up without the camp
seven days; and the people journeyed not till Miriam was brought in again.
Without skipping
a beat, the Torah informs us that the nation traveled from Hatzeirot and encamped in the Midbar
Paran:
(טז) וְאַחַ֛ר
נָסְע֥וּ הָעָ֖ם
מֵחֲצֵ֑רוֹת
וַֽיַּחֲנ֖וּ
בְּמִדְבַּ֥ר פָּארָֽן:
16 And afterward the people journeyed from
Hazeroth, and pitched in the wilderness of Paran.
The Torah also makes it a point to note that the Bnei
Yisrael didn't take the next step in their desert travels until after Miriam
returned to the camp:
לֹ֣א נָסַ֔ע
עַד־הֵאָסֵ֖ף
מִרְיָֽם
Rashi suggests
out that waiting for Miriam was a special honor accorded to her as a reward for
something that she did many years earlier:
רש"י במדבר פרשת בהעלותך פרק יב
(טו) והעם
לא
נסע
- זה
הכבוד
חלק
לה
המקום
בשביל
שעה
אחת
שנתעכבה
למשה
כשהושלך
ליאור,
שנאמר
(שמות
ב,
ד)
ותתצב
אחותו
מרחוק
וגו':
She
was accorded a reward for the extra moments that she waited for Moshe when he
was placed into the Nile.
In other words,
since she lingered before turning her back on her baby brother, the Jewish
people lingered for a few extra days before continuing on with their journeys.
Upon reading this
agadata, several questions come to mind. Firstly, was having the Israelites wait for
her really a reward? Were there no other
מצורעים,
and would they have otherwise have left them behind, abandoned to the perils of
the wilderness?
Rav Moshe
Feinstein, in his Derash Moshe, poses an additional question:
If God wanted to
reward Miriam for the respect she showed to Moshe when he was placed in the teiva, why did He have to reward her now
- during her period of punishment and humiliation? Was her sin the appropriate
time to pay her back for her kind deed? Would she not have been accorded the
proper honor if she hadn’t spoken lashon hara?
Most likely, the
Israelites would have waited for anyone, and though the Torah does not address
this topic, it stands to reason that they did so on other occasions. But it was
precisely the timing that showed how special Miriam was. Even when she was at
her lowest moment, she was still beloved to Moshe, to the people and to God.
What Rav Moshe is
suggesting is that it is specifically in person’s lowest moments that we
discover what people really think of them.
It doesn't take much to honor Miriam when she is the most illustrious
Jewish woman there is; Prophetess, poetess and possessor of royal blood - no
doubt everyone wanted to be her friend. But who will honor her when her
indiscretion brings her shame, as she is caught with a “hot mic” - saying the
things that she never should have thought or said? Human nature is to celebrate a person in
their heyday and to abandon them in their hour of degradation.
This, however, is
not the Jewish way:
לֹ֣א נָסַ֔ע
עַד־הֵאָסֵ֖ף
מִרְיָֽם
We will not leave
Miriam behind now; we don't lose sight of all of her virtuous deeds
because she happens to be on the cover of all of the tabloids today!
This sentiment
was captured perfectly by Shlomo haMelech, a man who experienced his own
fluctuating fortunes:
משלי פרק יז פסוק יז
בְּכָל־עֵ֭ת
אֹהֵ֣ב
הָרֵ֑עַ וְאָ֥ח
לְ֝צָרָ֗ה
יִוָּלֵֽד:
17 A friend loveth at all times, and a
brother is born for adversity.
This means that true friendship should be based on the
model of siblings, who are “born” specifically to support one another through
their darkest times. When most others
have forgotten about baby Moshe, Miriam still waited for him, watching what
would happen. When society’s lepers are cast aside, the Torah’s charge to us is
לֹ֣א נָסַ֔ע
עַד־הֵאָסֵ֖ף
We are not going anywhere without you.
How many times
does someone fall ill, lose their fortune, go through a divorce and we act as
if they no longer exist, as if their life circumstances are contagious. This callous and cowardly act is a clear
declaration to the beleaguered that we can function perfectly well without
them. When people say things they
shouldn’t, or don’t respond with the correct slogan as determined by the spirit
of the moment - we reject them outright from our group and declare them eternal
lepers. No one is safe from this kind of
“cancel culture” in which there is no reprieve, no room for teshuvah and complete erasure of all
past good deeds. It takes a Rav Aharon Kotler to hand you a lifeline when
everyone else is tying weights to your rope.
Think about the
people we disagree with, politically, religiously or personally. Those who are, for us, חוץ
מן
המחנה. Can we act as brothers and sisters ought
to? We must never write them off, we
must never remove the safety net.
It seems that
times like these call for short tempers to be replaced by longer memories, and
neighbors to start acting a little more like siblings- and above all, the
awareness that all of us are worth waiting for.
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