Divrei Shlach
Risk
The episode of the spies
certainly has had an eternal effect upon the Jewish nation. Chazal tell us (Ta’anis
29a) that because we “cried for nothing” on that Tisha B’Av night, Hashem in
turn gave us something to cry about, every Tisha B’Av night, until the time of
Moshiach.
What caused this great national tragedy? Whose decision was it? Where did we go wrong? At first glance, the answers are not so clear. As usual, Rashi provides clarification: The Torah tells us that Hashem declared to Moshe, “Send forth men, if you please, and let them spy out the Land of Canaan.” The Gemara (Sotah 34b) explains that the people had come to Moshe and had demanded, “Let us send spies in front of us.” Unsure of an answer, Moshe consulted Hashem, Who said, “I already told them that the Land was good. . . . Now I will give them an opportunity to fall into error through the words of the spies.”
HaRav Shimon Schwab zt”l, in Ma’ayan Bais HaSho’eiva, asks the question that troubles many mepharshim. Hashem had stated His displeasure with the idea of sending spiesl into Eretz Yisroel; why then did Moshe go along with the people’s request? He could have easily told the Nation, “You send forth men, if you please, even though it is not wise to do so, in my opinion.” Instead, Moshe admits (Devarim 1:23), “The matter was good in my eyes.” What good did Moshe see in sending spies, once Hashem had discouraged it?
Furthermore, Rashi says (BaMidbar 13:3) that at the time the spies were sent out, all were kashairim, very fine and upright individuals. Yet Rashi himself brings (13:26) the Gemara (Sotah 35a) which states that the ten spies came back from Canaan with an evil plan, just as they had been plotting when they set out. If these men were such tzaddikim, how could they be plotting evil at the same time?
What’s more, when Kalaiv unsuccessfully attempted to sway the people back upon the right track, he declared (13:30), “We shall surely ascend and conquer it [the Land], for we can surely do it!” Later (14:9) he and Yehoshua try to placate the now-hysterical people with, “Do not fear the people of the land, for we will consume them like bread. Their protection has departed from them; Hashem is with us. Do not fear them!” Persuasive words, certainly, but oddly, they do not directly refute the ten other spies’ bad report about the toughness of the land and the strength of its inhabitants. What was Yehoshua and Kalaiv’s strategy?
Answers Rav Schwab: In general, there are two levels of bitachon, trust in Hashem. The first, “closed-eye” trust, comes when an individual makes no effort into foreseeing the future. Instead, he simply trusts that whatever Hashem does and will do, is always for the best. While this trust represents a high level of expectation and requires great effort to obtain, Hashem requires it of every Jew.
There is another, even higher degree of bitachon – “open-eye” trust. Here, there is no simple faith in an unknown future. Rather, it is arrived at by gaining full knowledge of the difficulties and temptations one will face by doing Hashem’s Will and nevertheless going forward. It is an admirable, yet risky, approach, for the person willingly enters a war against some very real fears and doubts, which he could have avoided, by not investigating and trying to decipher the possible future outcomes. Furthermore, should he lose this high-altitude battle, and therefore be overcome by those anxieties, he will be in grave danger of losing his bitachon to such an extent that he will sink even lower than if he had not made such an attempt in the first place.
Now the parsha becomes clearer: Moshe and the nation took a calculated risk. When the people came to Moshe and asked for spies, they were not showing a lack in “closed bitachon;” quite the opposite, they had some idea of the wars, trials, and hardships they would face. The spies’ report of a tough Land populated by tough people would make clear to them these challenges. Their decision to send spies was fueled by good intentions – they wished to listen to the spies’ report, realize that conquering Eretz Canaan would not be easy in any way, emerge victorious over their inevitable fears and doubts, and thereby ascend to the higher level of “open bitachon.” And should their trustful resolve falter, they reasoned, they could strengthen themselves and still prevail.
Unfortunately, Klal Yisroel lost the gamble. They chose, they failed, and their plan backfired. The ten spies did such a good job of terrifying the people that the nation lost its collective composure. As they were bawling, “If only we had died in the land of Egypt, or if only we had died in this wilderness! . . . . Let us appoint a leader and let us return to Mitzrayim!” (14:2, 4) all their hard-earned trust in Hashem rapidly left them, and they ended up far below their level before this incident. Yehoshua and Kalaiv tried to derail this descent, but to no avail.
The forty subsequent years of wandering in the desert were therefore not just a simple punishment. Rather, they reflected reality: Klal Yisroel had fallen so far down that it needed more time – a full generation --- to train itself to be able to withstand the tests that would inevitably come from conquering and settling the Land.
This concept, of striving for an uncalled-for level of bitachon at the risk of losing the present level, also explains Moshe’s initial indecision. As the leader of the Jewish people, Moshe Rabeinu constantly searched for ways to strengthen the Nation of Israel. When the people came to Moshe and asked for spies, he saw an opportunity for the nation to reach beyond its “closed-eye” level of trust in Hashem. If the people would know what was facing them, he reasoned, and could still fearlessly enter and conquer the land, they would have made a great achievement in raising themselves to the higher level of “open bitachon.” While Hashem had not demanded such a trust from the Jewish people, certainly, however, He would approve of any human initiative to come closer to Him. Furthermore, this higher level would aid and assist them in their future endeavors in the Land.
Hashem’s seemingly ambiguous answer also becomes understandable. He never demands from His creations anything that they cannot fulfill. When a person or a nation wishes to go beyond Hashem’s command, however, they have a judgment call to make. Should they choose to undertake the attempt at a higher level, they must also be prepared to withstand the extra burdens and potential dangers that come with it. And should they fail, their tailspin may carry them far further down than if they had never made this attempt in the first place. Therefore, Hashem left Moshe and the people to make their own choice.
Among the Forty-Eight Qualities which are required for Torah, the Mishnah (Avos 6:6) lists “Hamakir es mikomo -- knowing one’s place.” From beginning to end, the Torah gives us, in very concrete terms, Hashem’s expectations of each one of us. We are designed to be able to fulfill them; and indeed, one who accomplishes these expectations can reach great heights. We daven every day, “Al tivi’eynu . . . lo lidei nisayon -- Hashem, please do not test us.” Surely, there are circumstances which are suitable to bring individuals or groups to even greater heights. Before taking that route, however, one must realize and reckon with the dangers that accompany such a decision.
Footsteps
About thirty years ago, just after HaRav Nachman Bulman zt”l had left his large shul in Far Rockaway to make aliyah, he found himself confronting some of the mundane problems that immigrants commonly face. He turned to HaRav Eliayahu Kitov zt”l, the author of Sefer HaToda’ah (which Rav Bulman had translated into English as The Book of Our Heritage) for advice.
Rav Kitov understood that Rav Bulman needed chizuk in appreciating that the red tape and other bureaucratic obstacles which abound today in Eretz Yisroel are meaningless in comparison to the indescribable zechus of living in the Holy Land.
Without a word, Rav Kitov simply stood himself next to Rav Bulman. He then reached behind Rav Bulman and grasped his shoulders. He then began to march forward with Rav Bulman, calling out with each step, “Aleph! Bais! Gimmel! Daled! Mitzvoh! Aleph! Bais! Gimmel! Daled! Mitzvoh!”
A decade and a half later, Rav Bulman fondly remembered the great inspiration from those few precious steps.