The first Rashi in Bamidbar explains that because G-d loves His Nation He constantly counts them. Thus, as G-d was about to rest His Shechinah on Klal Yisrael, He counted them.
Hashem counted Shevet Levi was counted separately, demonstrating their elevated status as the tribe who would perform the service in the Mishkan. Before the counting process, the Torah lists a brief genealogy of the family of Moshe and Aharon.
“These are the offspring of Aharon and Moshe on the day Hashem spoke to Moshe on Har Sinai. These are the names of the sons of Aharon; the firstborn was Nadav, and Avihu, Elazar, and Isamar… Nadav and Avihu died before Hashem when they offered an alien fire before Hashem in the Wilderness of Sinai…”
Rashi notes that although the Torah introduces the sons of Aharon and Moshe, “It mentions none but the sons of Aharon. They are called ‘the offspring of Moshe’ because he taught them Torah. This teaches us that whoever teaches his friend’s son Torah, the Torah views him as if he fathered him.” What is the meaning behind this analogy?
A pasuk in Malachi states, “For the lips of the Kohain should safeguard knowledge, and people should seek teaching from his mouth; for he is like the angel of G-d, master of Legions” (2:7). Based on this verse, Rabbah bar Channah stated: “This comes to teach us that if the teacher resembles the angel of Hashem, Master of Legions, then people may seek Torah instruction from his mouth. But if not, then they may not seek Torah instruction from his mouth” (Chagiga 15b).
In what way must a pedagogue be like an angel?
The Hafla’ah explains that teaching requires patience, skill, and innovation. When one is well-versed in a certain subject and has even reached a level of expertise, it is a challenge to teach it to an individual who is completely ignorant of the subject matter. Not only must the teacher decide how to teach the subject but, at the same time, he must inhibit his own growth because, while teaching what he already knows, he cannot further his own knowledge.
A human being spends his life struggling against diametric forces within him, of right and wrong. An angel has no such challenge. However, his lack of challenge also precludes an ability to grow. An angel doesn’t aspire to eternal reward; he remains exactly as he was created.
For a rebbe/teacher to be successful he/she must be willing to compromise personal growth in order to impart knowledge to students. Just as an angel is spiritually stagnant, so too a pedagogue must be prepared to put his own learning on hold and remain “educationally stagnant” in order to teach others.
In the vernacular of the Hafla’ah, “Even if he must remain spiritually devoid of personal growth, still-in-all, he should teach students in order to influence them through his Torah teaching, because it is a tremendous and invaluable mitzvah to be able to assist others.” This is the message of Rabbah bar Channah: students should seek to learn from a rebbe only if he is analogous to an angel in the sense that he is willing to forgo his own growth.
A rebbe who has been teaching the same chapter of Talmud for more than two decades or a morah who has taught the same sefer for many years may begin to feel somewhat jaded. Rabbah bar Channah reassures them that their self-sacrifice is well worth it.
The Gemara (Chulin 60b) states that in the future G-d will pacify the moon for minimizing its light at the time of Creation by labeling the great tzaddikim with the title of the moon, “hakatan,” e.g. “Shmuel hakatan.”
The Chasam Sofer notes that it is only because the moon’s light was diminished that we can see the stars. If the moon’s light were as powerful as the sun, we would hardly know that stars exist. Similarly, our great teachers, who expend tremendous effort to teach and impart Torah to their students, minimize their own growth. Their sacrifice enables us to recognize the light of the “stars,” i.e., the next generation, whose light has not yet reached its zenith.
The greatest demonstration of this concept was given by G-d Himself, as it were, when He left the holy upper worlds to give Klal Yisroel the Torah on Sinai. From this Moshe understood that, as leader, it was incumbent upon him to completely avail himself to the nation, even at the cost of his own deeper understanding of the intricacies and esoteric secrets of the Torah.
With this in mind, Da’as Sofer offers a novel explanation of “These are the offspring of Aharon and Moshe… on the day G-d spoke to Moshe on Har Sinai.” The Torah makes it a point of telling us that it was on Har Sinai because it was specifically there that Moshe understood that it was his obligation to teach Aharon’s sons Torah. As G-d had taken the time and bother, as it were, to instruct Moshe about the Torah so too, Moshe had to do the same.
The Yalkut Shimoni wonders why the pasuk relates that Nadav and Avihu died in the desert of Sinai when they didn’t. The Medrash answers, “Rather, this is to teach us that from Sinai came the root cause (lit. the poison) of their death.” What does this mean?
Da’as Sofer explains that Nadav and Avihu were killed because they never married and had children. They were such great Torah scholars that they feared that the responsibility of raising a family would impinge on their ability to study. They chose to remain bachelors so as to devote their complete energy to Torah study. Therefore, the “poison” of Nadav and Avihu, i.e. the root cause of their liability for death, came from not learning the lesson of Sinai. If G-d Himself was willing to lower Himself to teach Klal Yisroel Torah, how could Nadav and Avihu decide not to raise a family and educate them, even at the cost of self sacrifice?!
This is why one who teaches his friend’s son Torah is analogous to the father himself. Who besides a parent is willing to sacrifice personal ambitions, aspirations, and goals for someone else? Who else beside a parent would forgo personal hopes and dreams in order to devote energy to raising needy and at times obnoxious youths?
A teacher who is willing to forgo his/her own growth to teach and educate others is no less than parents whose unbridled love for their children overshadows the love they have for themselves.
The 27th of Iyar is the yahrtzeit of my father-in-law’s mother, Mrs. Rose Mermelsetein a”h, Rochel bas Yonah. The 29th is the yahrtzeit of my mother-in-law’s mother, Mrs. Chayka Kauer a”h, Chaya bas Dovid. I never met either of these outstanding women yet, I know them because of the impression they have left on their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.
How much great is the sacrifice of Jewish women who not only sacrifice themselves to ensure their children’s physical well-being, but also to ensure their spiritual growth. What more can we say about Jewish mothers who raised their children after enduring the draconian terrors of the Nazi beast and the travails of World War II?
Babby Rose was beaten over the head by a Nazi during the war; she never fully recovered. Still in all, she somehow managed to raise her three children as proud Torah Jews. She loved her children and took great pride in their accomplishments. Our daughter (Aviva) Rochel proudly carries her name.
Babbah Chaya was a beloved neighbor and a devout friend. The quintessential bubby, she could fill a house with a heavenly aroma of Yom Tov and fill a heart with the beauty of our people. At the end of her life, she moved to Lakewood and, with her husband, became pillars of the community.
May the memory of these two outstanding and unique individuals be a blessing for their families and may their neshamos be elevated to even higher levels of Divine Bliss.