facebook_badgetwitter_badgeYouTube badgeGoogle+ badge

JSN Parsha Team
Parshat Chukat: June 2010

Click here for the PDF version

Although we are usually able to glean some meaning or message out of the mitzvot, a few mitzvot are, frankly, entirely beyond  us. Our parsha begins with what is probably the most mysterious mitzvah in all the Torah, the mitzvah of parah adumah, the red heifer. It deals with complex spiritual realities and it seems highly unlikely that the red heifer would have a relevant message for us today. Well, we’ll see about that.

The parah adumah plays a central role in the process of purifying someone who becomes “tamei”, i.e., spiritually tainted. A Jew becomes tamei when he or she comes into contact with a corpse, and as long as you are tamei you may not enter the Holy Temple in Jerusalem (Bamidbar 19:13,21). However, this condition is treatable. A red heifer is slaughtered and burned, and its ashes are used to create a mystical potion with purifying powers. A kohen sprinkles the contaminated Jew with the red heifer ash mixture and the Jew then returns to a normal state of tahara, i.e. spiritual purity (19:1-12). (Obviously, these laws have been out of use ever since the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE.)

This procedure is hard enough to understand, but here’s the clincher: The kohen who administers the sprinkling becomes tamei! The very same process that purifies the contaminated Jew contaminates the kohen (19:21). Try to explain that one!

King Solomon himself, the wisest of men, gave up trying to unravel the mystery of the parah adumah  (red heifer). After much contemplation about this mitzvah he finally said, “I thought I would be wise, but it is far from me” (Ecclesiastes 7:23). He understood every other mitzvah in the Torah, but when it came to the red heifer King Solomon had no explanation.

Several great medieval rabbis independently compiled listings of the 613 biblical mitzvot. But the most innovative of these works is undoubtedly the Chinch (anonymous, 13th century). Besides the basic listing, the Chinuch also speculates about the meaning and purpose of every mitzvah. This makes for a fascinating blend of law, ethics, and philosophy.

When it comes to the parah adumah, however, the Chinuch throws in the towel. “Although my heart emboldened me to write hints of the reasons for the other mitzvot… when it comes to this mitzvah my hand goes weak and I am frightened to open my mouth about it at all. For I have seen how our sages of blessed memory wrote at length of its deep mysteries and the vastness of its theme…” (Chinuch, mitzvah 397).

Rabbi Yaakov Kamanetzky (1891-1986) questions the Chinuch’s nervous reaction to the parah adumah. The Chinuch knew that all mitzvot are ultimately beyond our understanding. Mortals can’t expect to fathom the myriad of divine reasons for mitzvot. Although we certainly do appreciate the beauty and relevance of every mitzvah, we need to remember that we are only dipping beneath the surface of great depths of meaning. As the Chinuch himself admits, his explanations of the mitzvot are no more than surface level interpretations. He never claimed that his suggestions were all there is to it. So why won’t the Chinuch provide us with some insights into the red heifer? If he managed to supply a reason or a message for each of 612 other mitzvot in the Torah, why not finish the job?

Rabbi Kamanetzky explains that the Chinuch did not at all give up when it came to the red heifer. He indeed does reveal its message. The red heifer’s message is the very fact that it is completely unknowable.

This is a fundamental principle for all of Torah. There comes a point with every mitzvah where we must recognize that our human minds are limited. There is more to this world than we can ever know. There is a spiritual reality.

King Solomon, an inspired poet like his father David, wrote the following riddle: “Say to wisdom: ‘You are my sister’” (Proverbs 7:4). What is King Solomon trying to tell us here? A superficial reading of Rashi’s commentary (Kiddushin 30b) seems to offer the following interpretation: The same way you know that the Torah forbids incest with your sister, you should also know every other mitzvah with that same degree of clarity. Although such a level of scholarship is certainly something we should all strive for, this is a poor interpretation of our verse. King Solomon does not seem to be saying that at all.

A more careful reading of Rashi reveals a much deeper teaching. “Say to wisdom: ‘You are my sister’”. The verse is encouraging us to develop the same kind of relationship with Torah that we have with a sister. You have a beautiful, meaningful relationship with your sister and you love your sister. (At least, that is the way it should be.) But there is a line that you dare not cross. Incest is forbidden and your relationship can only go so far. There are some things about your sister that you will never know.

King Solomon is telling us that we should relate to Torah in the same way. We should be close, very close. We should always maintain and strengthen our relationship with Torah. But keep in mind that there are some things that we will never know.

The centrality of the red heifer’s message cannot be underestimated. Acknowledging the natural limitations of the human mind in its attempt to know the Mind of G-d is an absolute prerequisite for an honest appreciation of mitzvot, Torah, and even Jewish history. It is the awareness of this truth that humbles us before G-d and inspires us with awe every time we study His Torah.

In the end it seems that the red heifer has a message for us after all.