He had been controlling himself for so long, had come so far, but he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Everyone else was asleep; no one would have to know. Internally, he was struggling, pulled in every direction, unable to make a decision. On the one hand, there was a convincing and confident voice persuading him to do it, to give in to the urge – “Eat it, it will taste so good!”
On the other hand, there was a quieter, more subtle voice attempting to use reason and judgment. “But this is ridiculous. It’s wrong, destructive, childish, just foolish. You’ve done this before, and hated yourself afterwards; you felt disgusted, ashamed. You know that you’ll feel the very same way if you do it again. This has never ended well for you.”
As a bead of sweat drips down the side of his cheek, he stares at the chocolate cake, weighing his options.
Before he can really get a handle on the situation, the confident voice pipes up again, now sounding even more convincing. “Just think about how good it will feel. You only live once. Who really cares about the consequences? How can you not do this?!” Suddenly, the second voice stops giving good answers. (Or maybe he’s just not listening anymore.) Now, he only sees one side of the equation, and he lets desire cloud his judgment. He gives in to temptation.
If he had been watching someone else do this same act, he would have been screaming at the top of his lungs for them to stop. But he has become blinded by desire, lured into the trap of instant gratification, and has fallen prey to his lower-self. A moment later, he awakens from his intellectual slumber, regains awareness, and, as his higher-self predicted, looks in the mirror with total disgust and revulsion, berating himself to not let it happen again. He can’t bear the hypocrisy, the two-faced-ness. For a moment, he does not look at himself from within, but from without, as an onlooker, and he does not like what he sees.
This is the story of life: struggle, sometimes with small defeats, and other times small victories. Most of life is not about giant leaps or falls, but rather fighting for inches. We take a step forward, then two steps back; three steps forward, another one back. This being the case, we need to take a deeper look at the Cheit Ha’Egel.
Cheit Ha’Egel
Cheit Ha’Egel, the sin of the golden calf, is perhaps the most infamous event in the Torah, a sin compared to the original sin of Adam HaRishon and one that has repercussions throughout Jewish history. Yet, what is most striking about this transgression is not the act itself but its timing.
The Jewish people had just experienced the fantastic miracles of Yetzias Mitzrayim, the earth-shattering wonders of K’rias Yam Suf, and had just received the Torah from Hashem Himself. They were elevated to the angelic state of Adam HaRishon before he ate from the Eitz Ha’daas, and they were therefore able to eat the angelic food of manna, which the Ramban explains was crystalized, condensed Shechinah. As Rashi illustrates, even the maidservants at K’rias Yam Suf received prophecy and had a higher level of understanding of Hashem than Yechezkel – who saw an image of Hashem Himself (Rashi, Shemos 15:2). If so, how could the Jewish people commit such a terrible sin at this moment?
Even worse, they did so on the very spot of Matan Torah, Har Sinai, the place where we “married” Hashem! Chazal compare this to a kallah betraying her husband under the chuppah! As the pasuk says, they strayed “quickly” (Shemos 32:8). How could Klal Yisrael fall so rapidly and drastically right after Matan Torah?
Idolatry
While this requires a much lengthier discussion, let us briefly explain the sin of idolatry. Many think of idolatry as the worship of statues and inanimate objects. However, any intelligent person can see that a piece of wood or stone carved out by a human being could not possibly hold any real power. The deeper understanding behind the worship of idolatry, as the Rambam (Mishneh Torah, Avodah Zarah, perek 1), Ramchal (Derech Hashem) and many others explain, is the worshiping of intermediaries instead of sourcing oneself back to Hashem Himself. Hashem created the world in such a way that there are levels of reality. Hashem is the ultimate source, and the intermediaries receive energy from Him, which they then manifest into the world. Avodah zarah is when you don’t recognize Hashem as the source but rather trace things back only as far as the intermediaries. The statues that idolaters “worship” are merely tangible representations of the higher forces they serve.
Serving Yourself
What is the purpose of idol worship? What compels a person to commune with the intermediaries rather than seeking the ultimate root, Hashem? The answer is simple. Why go back to the source when you can get everything you need from a middle man, especially if the middle man demands so little in return? True service of Hashem means a life of obligation, whereas idolatry is one of entitlement and freedom from obligation.
Similarly, the psychological draw to nihilism is freedom from obligation. A religious life is one of obligation (to the truth), where everything in one’s life has meaning. A life of nihilism is one of no obligation but nothing in one’s life has meaning. The trade-off for freedom from obligation is a life of slavery to emptiness. Only one who is a slave to the truth, i.e., who embraces meaningful obligation, is truly free.
The mechanism of avodah zarah can be compared to a man who walks into a large store and sees an expensive item he desperately desires. However, he isn’t willing to pay its $1,500 price tag, so he walks over to the cashier and makes him a proposition: “I’ll slip you $150, if you quietly pass over the goods.” In other words, this man wants the product, but not for its set price! Instead, he tries to cut a deal with the middleman. So too, idolatry was man’s way of receiving “the goods” without paying for them. Why go all the way to Hashem to ask for rain, health, and prosperity when that would demand a life of obligation in return?
Avoiding Hashem in this way, is the absolute worst sin in the entire Torah. The prohibition against avodah zarah is the first mitzvas lo saaseh (negative commandment) in the Aseres Hadibros. As many commentators explain, avodah zarah is the root of all the other negative commandments. All other sins are merely a subcategory of idolatry, whereby you serve your own selfish needs and desires instead of sourcing yourself back to Hashem. The sin of the golden calf was the worshipping of idolatry, which means that the Jewish people went from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows in mere moments. This completely contradicts our introductory principle, namely, that spiritual falls occur slowly, in small steps. How did this happen?
Minimizing the Sin
Some commentators, including the Ramban and Rabbi Yehudah Halevi (Sefer HaKuzari), suggest that the Jewish people did not commit genuine idolatry. Rather, after Moshe Rabbeinu failed to descend from Har Sinai, the people believed that their leader, who served as the medium of connection between them and Hashem, was gone forever. In desperation, they attempted to create a new physical medium of connection, i.e., the golden calf. This idea itself is not inherently wrong, as we see that the Jewish people are told to build an aron, a physical vessel, to serve as a connection between them and Hashem. The aron had two keruvim (cherubs) on top of them, and the Torah states explicitly that Hashem spoke to Moshe through the keruvim (Shemos 25:22).
The Ramban and Rabbi Yehudah Halevi therefore explain that the problem was not the motive but the method of achieving their goal. Because Hashem did not command them to create a physical medium of connection, it was inappropriate for them to do so. This connects to the topic of “Gadol ha’metzuveh ve’oseh mi’mi she’eino metzuveh ve’oseh – Greater is one who is commanded and does something than someone who is not commanded and does it of his own volition.” Sometimes, taking the initiative into your own hands reflects ego and self-assertion, as opposed to selfless devotion. It is clear, though, that the Ramban and Rabbi Yehudah Halevi downplay the severity of the Cheit Ha’Egel and do not view it as a transgression of the prohibition of avodah zarah.
Genuine Idolatry
However, many commentators, including Rashi, believe that the Cheit Ha’Egel was genuine idolatry. This means that immediately following Matan Torah, the Jewish people fell prey to the worst sin imaginable, avodah zarah, failing to source themselves back to Hashem. According to this line of thinking, we are back to our original problem: how did the Jewish people undergo such a rapid, astounding fall? Spiritual falls tend to occur slowly in small steps. In this case, however, the Jewish people went straight from angelic to broken. How did this happen?
In our next article, we will delve deeper into this fascinating topic and try to explain Rashi’s unique approach.
