This week’s parasha is Parashat Behaalotcha.
Behaalotcha literally means “when you go up.” The parasha says behaalotcha et ha-neirot — we are giving out the jobs in the Mishkan, in the tabernacle, and this job is given to Aharon HaKohen, the Kohanim. The commandment is behaalotcha et ha-neirot: when you ascend, when you raise yourself, to light the candles of the menorah.
I want to talk a little bit about this vessel — the menorah — and why it’s so special. Why is the use of fire so often used in the tabernacle or temple, when fire would seem to be something negative? It would seem to be something destructive. We know that if, God forbid, a fire starts, it causes destruction. So the question being asked here is: why does the Torah — the menorah itself, which gives light — who is it giving light to? It’s certainly not giving light to the Jewish people in the Mikdash. And in fact, when we talk about Hanukkah, where we use the Hanukkiah, we know that you’re not even allowed to use the light of the Hanukkiah. So the question is: who is this light for? What’s so important about the menorah?
One thing that’s also very special about the menorah is the fact that it’s the only vessel that Moshe Rabbeinu could not figure out how to build. Bezalel also could not figure out how to build. We’ll discuss that as well. The menorah itself had many different parts — cups, and flowers, and a stand — but there was something very specific about the commandment pertaining to the menorah that did not have to do with any other vessel in the tabernacle or the Mikdash.
The menorah is one of those keilim, one of the vessels, that will be used also in the future Mikdash that will be built, hopefully in our days. And the commandment was that the menorah has to be built miksha achat — out of one piece of gold — and through that, the entire vessel had to be built. That certainly seems, one, strange, and two, impossible. How do you build such a large lamp out of a single piece? By the way, if you’ve been to Jerusalem, the menorah in the square in the Old City is not a model — it’s a real menorah. It could be used. We’re waiting for the temple to be built. And it is a very large menorah.
So: why does it have to be miksha achat — one piece? What’s so important about it being one piece? And why did Moshe Rabbeinu specifically have trouble building it? There were the two altars — the golden one and the one outside. There was the Shulchan, the Lechem HaPanim, the bread in the Mikdash. There were spoons and shovels. There were many vessels in the Mikdash. What was it about the menorah that Moshe Rabbeinu and Bezalel had a hard time figuring out? That’s what I want to talk about.
First of all, this idea of one piece of gold seems a little bit strange. All the other vessels had different parts and were soldered together. Why does the menorah have to be one piece? That’s the question we’re asking.
The answer is the following. What is the menorah actually used for? The menorah is used for lighting in the Mikdash. But I said — Bnei Yisrael do not need the menorah. We’re not missing light. HaKadosh Baruch Hu does not need light. God does not need light. So why is He commanding us to light this menorah that seems to be useless for everyone? Again, Bnei Yisrael in the Mikdash don’t need it for light, and HaKadosh Baruch Hu doesn’t need light. So obviously, this menorah — this lamp built in the tabernacle — is not meant for practical lighting.
So now the question is: why light the candles? We have to discuss what this light is all about.
There are different ways to light things up. You can light torches, which produce a large amount of light — a torch is made out of many wicks put together. The brighter you want the light to be, the bigger the torch. Today we use spotlights: if you want an area lit up in your living room, you put many small spots on your ceiling. But with candles it’s different. If you ask me what would better light up a room — a huge torch or small candles — what gives more light? Seven small, tiny wicks, or a big torch? The big torch would simply give more light. So obviously, in terms of the menorah, we are not looking at the light itself. The light itself is not the point.
We learn halacha, we learn Jewish law, from this. On Hanukkah — when we remember the Maccabees’ victory over their enemies — we have a commandment to light the Hanukkiah. And there is a Jewish law: you are not allowed to enjoy the light of the Hanukkiah. You light the Hanukkiah, but you cannot use its light. So again we have to ask: if we can’t use the light of the Hanukkiah, why are we lighting it?
And it gets more interesting. According to the rabbis, when you light the Hanukkiah, the purpose is pirsumei nisa — publicizing the miracle. In other words: I’m not allowed to use the light when I light it, but the reason I’m lighting is so that people outside my house will see the lamp and say, “They are remembering the miracle of the Maccabees.”
On the one hand I’m not allowed to use it. On the other hand, the light is supposed to be used — by others. When I light the Hanukkiah, you can’t read a book by that light. You’re not allowed to get any enjoyment from it. That’s the law, the Jewish law. And on the other side of the coin, the reason we’re lighting is that people outside will see your lit candles and that will be publicizing the miracle, bringing praise to God. So on one hand I can’t use it, and on the other hand I’m completely using it. What’s the story?
The menorah is filled with olive oil — and not just any olive oil. It has to be pure olive oil. Now, what is the difference between pure olive oil and impure olive oil? Absolutely nothing you can detect. You cannot taste, smell, or feel the difference. If I gave you two flasks, one filled with pure olive oil and one filled with impure, you could look, smell, taste — whatever you want — and you would not be able to tell the difference. Because it’s not a physical difference. It’s a spiritual difference. One is not dirty and one is not clean in any tangible sense. It is a spiritual definition that cannot be understood in terms of physical experience. And anybody who doesn’t believe in spirituality will think it’s absolutely ridiculous. It smells the same. It tastes the same. It looks the same. It burns the same.
“What are you making such a big deal about?” — because if you’re only dealing in the physical world, then there is absolutely no difference between pure and impure.
We’re talking about something completely spiritual. And that is exactly the point of lighting the menorah. The point of lighting the menorah is to prove the reality of spirituality — to show that the world is not all physical, to show that there is something intrinsically important about the spiritual and the pure. And therefore you are not allowed to light this menorah with anything but pure olive oil, even though there’s no physical difference in the flame. You could use other oils that make colored flames and look much more impressive — that’s not the point. You cannot light from anything other than pure olive oil.
Now according to the Jewish sages, all the candles faced the middle candle. The Jewish law is that when the Kohen lights the candles, he has to stay there with the torch until the flame begins to feed off the olive oil inside the cups. You might ask: of course — that’s always how you light something. You have to stay with the flame until it catches on to what’s actually being burned. So what is the Torah trying to say here?
The idea is the following. On the one hand, there is a commandment that the Kohanim have to do their own effort and light the menorah. They have to light this lamp. On the other hand, they must stay there until they are sure that the energy of the flame is coming from the cup. And what’s inside the cup? Inside the cup is that pure oil — the only thing that distinguishes someone who believes in spirituality from someone who does not.
There’s a famous story of a religious kid who comes into a classroom in a very secular, atheist kind of school. The teacher wants to make fun of him and says: “So you believe in God?” And the kid says: “Of course I believe in God.” The teacher says: “Well, can you show Him to me?” The kid says: “No, you can’t see God.” The teacher says: “Well, then there is no God.”
The kid comes back the next morning, and the teacher says: “Did you do your homework?” The kid says: “No.” The teacher says: “Why not?” The kid says: “Well, I don’t think I should be working for someone who I don’t believe has a brain.” The teacher says: “How dare you!” The kid says: “Well, you think you have a brain?” She says: “Yes.” The kid says: “Show it to me.”
You understand the punchline. With special machines you can see a brain — but the point is, the teacher at that moment cannot prove the brain exists. Because when it comes to the non-spiritual world, when it comes to someone who doesn’t believe in God or spirituality, what you see is what you get. What you see is what exists, and what you cannot see does not exist.
When it comes to the spiritual and the religious world, we say: “Lo taturu acharei levavchem ve’acharei eineichem” — you shall not go after your heart and your eyes. You have to go after what you know in terms of spirituality, even going against your heart and your eyes. And that’s what Judaism is all about. Even if I want a delicious cheeseburger, I don’t eat it, even though it looks and smells delicious. I am suppressing my eyes and my heart from wanting something, because in terms of spirituality, I know that eating it is bad for me — not health-wise, but spiritually. That is the goal.
So the menorah stands for this idea of spirituality, and therefore the commandment is that when the Kohen lights the candle, he has to make sure that the energy of the candle is being fed by the cup beneath — the pure oil — proving that everything is coming from that pure oil.
Now: why one piece?
Unity in Judaism is very, very important. We believe in unity. In terms of God, we say: “Shema Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad” — God is one. Not “one” in terms of one being, but one unity. There are no parts to the unity. Once you have parts, you actually make things limited. One whole, with no parts.
And when it comes to the nation of Israel and our spirituality — we can have different opinions. Think about this. If they wanted the menorah to be one piece, why not just make one stand with one flame? Why say it’s one piece but have seven different branches? Just leave it one branch.
No — because that is exactly the point. In Judaism, every two Jews have three opinions. We can have different opinions, but at the end of the day, it’s the center pillar that drives us and shows us the compass of the Torah way. We could wear different clothing and have different customs, but the middle column has to be unity in believing in the Torah. As soon as someone breaks from that center column, they’re no longer representing Judaism.
There’s a famous saying: there are seventy faces of Torah. Anyone can open a Sefer Torah and read and learn — wonderful. But the middle pillar has to stay solid. And therefore, yes, the menorah had seven branches, but it was made out of one solid piece of gold, somehow carved from within.
Now, why couldn’t Moshe Rabbeinu understand how to do this? Because the whole concept of unity within difference is very difficult to understand. If I am disagreeing with you, how can we have unity? And this, by the way, is the secret of the redemption of the Jewish people.
We say in Shemoneh Esrei every day: “Hashivah shofteinu k’varishonah” — bring back our judges like in the beginning — “v’yo’atzeinu k’vatchilah” — and our counselors like it was in the beginning. That’s Moshe Rabbeinu and King Shlomo, King Solomon, who was the judge. And then it says: “Ve’aseh mimmenah yagon va’anacha” — and remove from us sorrow and sighing. What do judges and counselors have to do with sorrow?
The answer is: when I go to court with someone — if I’m suing you because I think you broke something of mine or owe me money — we are not going to those courts to beat each other. We’re going to find out the truth. So right now we’re disagreeing. We might even be upset with each other. But the second we go to those courts again — which are anchored in that center pillar of Torah, not in some new-age philosophy, but in the center pillar of Torah — and the judge there gives a ruling according to Torah law, we are both going to accept it. Because we are running after truth. We’re not running after our egos. And therefore, when the real judges and real counselors come back — like Moshe Rabbeinu and like King Shlomo, who are truly judging through the pillars of Torah — when we come to those courts with an argument, we’re searching for truth. We’re not searching to beat each other. And therefore when we say in prayer “ve’aseh mimmenah yagon va’anacha” — if the real judges come, that sadness will go away, because we will agree. Whoever wins is fine, because truth won.
So: the menorah had seven branches, but all the candles faced the middle candle — and that middle candle is the pillar of Judaism.
Now, in terms of fire being destructive or constructive: fire can certainly be destructive, but fire can also give light and warmth. So which is it? It depends entirely on how you use it.
I told you Moshe Rabbeinu couldn’t figure out how to make the menorah. According to the Jewish sages, he threw the gold into the fire, and it came out formed by the hand of God — because this idea of being separate and yet still united is something we humans have a very hard time understanding, let alone building into a golden menorah.
So the fire built the menorah. But the fire also built something else. The fire built the Egel HaZahav — the golden calf. That is the perfect example of how fire can build a vessel, a kli, that is a symbol of truth, a symbol of unity, a symbol of who we are — and how that same fire can also build a golden calf, which is a symbol of one of the worst sins that Am Yisrael, the nation of Israel, ever committed. So what is fire? Fire is a tool. It’s what you do with that tool that determines whether it’s positive or negative.
If you’re building the menorah according to the middle pillar of Torah, according to God’s commandments, you’re building something that is supposed to be a symbol of eternity and strength. If you’re using fire to build something that is absolutely against HaKadosh Baruch Hu‘s Torah — like the golden calf — then you’re building destruction, and you’re building separation.
So fire is a vessel that can be used for either.
When the parasha says behaalotcha et ha-neirot, “go up to light the menorah” — why not simply say, “when you light the menorah”? Why is the word Behaalotcha — “when you go up,” when you raise yourself — so important?
Because when it comes to doing physical mitzvot, doing the physical commandments — and we Jews have a lot of them — the word is telling us something about how we do them.
You know, when people say they want to convert, we basically say no. Being Jewish is very, very difficult. There are many commandments. From the time you get up in the morning to the time you go to sleep, our life is filled with instructions — and not only instructions, there are consequences if you don’t keep them. From the time we get up in the morning, we say Modeh Ani, we wash our hands. How we eat, how we sleep, how we get dressed. Judaism says you put the right shoe on first, then the left shoe, then you tie the left shoe, then you tie the right shoe. What’s the big deal? Who cares, right? Does God really care?
Does God care that on Shabbat you’re not allowed to turn on lights? Why? Does God really need light? Does the menorah mean God needs light? No. It’s not about what God needs or what I need. It’s about a code of ethics and a way of behavior that we are supposed to be living.
So look — when it comes to Judaism, we have a code of ethics, and sometimes we don’t understand the code of ethics. “Who cares if I eat a cheeseburger?” When I say “who cares,” what I’m basically saying is: “I don’t understand why this is so important.” It’s an egotistical statement. My problem with the commandment is not the commandment itself — my problem is that I don’t understand it. And because I don’t understand it, I’m not happy. But the world does not revolve around you, or me, or I. The world revolves around HaKadosh Baruch Hu, around God. He created the world for a certain reason and a certain purpose, and if we miss that purpose — whether we understood it or not — we wasted our lives.
My understanding of the commandments — again, I should try to understand them. Judaism doesn’t believe in blind faith. We have a commandment that says “Da et HaShem” — know God. Not just believe — know. We have to do our research and go deeper. But I’m not keeping the commandments only because of my intellectual understanding. I’m keeping them because of my knowledge that this is the right way to go.
And by the way, the most famous Jewish leader who made this mistake is King Solomon himself — Shlomo HaMelech. One of the commandments for a king is that he cannot take too many wives. And Solomon said: “I won’t fail. It’s okay. I’m good. I’m smart enough.” And he fell. Because at that point, on that commandment, he relied on his own personal abilities and understanding. And that is where Shlomo HaMelech — the wisest man who ever existed — fell.
We have to learn, we have to study, but our anchor in this religion is not whether I understand or not. The drive to understand is there, yes. But the anchor is to understand one thing: that spirituality is key, and that HaKadosh Baruch Hu‘s commandments are key.
Do I have to keep the commandments even if I don’t understand them? Of course. Again, there should be a drive to understand. But why am I keeping them? I’m keeping the commandments to lift up my Neshama — to lift up my soul — because we are in this world, and the soul doesn’t belong in this world. The soul hates this world. There is nothing in this world that the soul wants. The soul doesn’t need to sleep or eat or do any of these physical things — the soul can’t stand it. The soul is a heavenly body. It belongs somewhere else.
The body, though, loves this world. And there is a constant fight between the body and the soul. The body is trying to pull the soul down; the soul is trying to pull the body up. Every time we do something correct and right according to the pillar of Torah, our soul gets lifted up. Every time we give in to our yetzer hara, our evil inclination, it pulls the soul down, and our moral compass gets blurred. And that’s where things really start to fall apart.
So when I keep a commandment, the goal is to uplift the soul. Even though I can’t see the soul, even though I can’t feel the soul, I believe that we are all more spiritually significant than a dog or a cow. The difference between us is not that they walk on four legs and we walk on two, not that they say “moo” and we talk. We have a soul. We have moral consequence. A dog does not have moral consequence. If a dog attacks another dog, there’s no: “Oh, you bad dog, you killer.” No — because the dog doesn’t have a soul. It has a body and we can train it, but it doesn’t have a soul.
And so the goal is to raise the soul up.
And that’s the whole idea of the menorah. The light’s not being used by anyone. There’s light in the Mikdash anyway. God doesn’t need the light. Tumah and taharah — pure and impure oil — there’s no physical difference between them, none whatsoever. The idea of seven different branches, but from one miksha zahav, one piece of gold — it doesn’t make sense on a physical level. Because we’re not supposed to look at this on a physical level. The menorah is symbolizing something much more spiritual.
And therefore, when the Kohen Gadol goes to light the menorah, the word Behaalotcha — lift yourself up from the mere idea of lighting a lamp. You lift yourself up to something else. And therefore the halacha requires you to wait until the cup of pure oil is the primary energy of the flame. When that pure oil — which makes no logical difference in the physical sense — becomes the energy of the flame, then you have fulfilled the mitzvah of lighting the candles of the menorah in the Beit HaMikdash.
Shabbat Shalom from the beautiful rolling hills of Judea, Israel.