|
From the Rabbi:
My experience of Parshat BeHa'alotcha is inexorably linked to the bar mitzvah of my younger brother Yotam in Jerusalem, Parshat BeHa'alotcha 1998.
Our older sister Shalvi had been the aliyah pioneer, skipping her highschool graduation to get to Israel as soon as she possibly could. By this time two years later she was fully immersed deep in the Charedi Breslov community and was getting married to a Yerushalmi chossid that week. In the meantime, my mother had followed suit and made aliyah, and was happily at home among the Carlebach hippies of Nachlaot. My illustrious father was also coming in to Israel for the double simcha, and the presence of the Jewish Renewal rebbe made this bar mitzvah must-see-TV for everyone in the neo-chassidic/renewal/progressive communities of Jerusalem.
Trying to get all this motley crew with the entire span of religious affiliations into one shul for a bar mitzvah was no easy task. From the demand that the mechitzah be absolutely opaque and floor to ceiling, to those adamant that the Imahot (matriarchs) be mentioned in the Shmoneh-esrai, it took a lot of halachic ingenuity and careful negotiations to get everyone in one room. At the end we had a tri-chitza minyan long before such things were common, a compromise with which nobody was happy, but everyone at least agreed to come, if only to make a statement by their choice of seating.
The Bar mitzvah proceeded awkwardly, but without disruptive conflict. Yotam read the entire Parsha and haftarah, and began his speech with all the normal bar-mitzvah-speech tripes. Then in a moment I'll never forget, he set down his well-written and well-rehearsed speech and impromptu addressed the elephant in the room.
"I recognize the the arrangements for this bar mitzvah are out of the ordinary for everyone, and probably have made some of you feel really uncomfortable. So, I should probably apologize for offending your religious sensibilities. But I'm not going to apologize. In fact, you should all apologize to me! I've had to put up with all your childish bickering, and today was supposed to be about celebrating me teaching Torah."
Wow!! What incredible holy chutzpa. What remarkable self assuredness from a thirteen year old. In that moment, Yotam showed that not only was he an adult, he was THE adult in the room. In that one glorious moment, all the infighting, bickering, ego driven, hyper-opinionated divisiveness dissolved, and all the attention was immediately returned to the Divine nobility of the Human being standing before us, shining his light into our darkness.
He went on to say something I barely remember about the six branches of the menorah corresponding with the six wings of angels, but to me and most of the 300+ people there, the entire ceremony was illuminated by that one awesome moment.
That day, Yotam the Kohen demonstrated exactly what the lighting of the menorah is really all about. In all the turmoil of life, we need to remember to shine our light. Don't let the little conflicts obscure the inner light. The spiritual self confidence he displayed is our birthright, and yet in the tumult of daily life it's hard feel connected and remember to glow. Oh, if only there were some special candle lit in the place that all our souls are connected in order to subconsciously remind us to be radiant... What a great idea! Yes, the menorah is specifically meant to light up the souls of Klal Yisrael, starting with Aharon himself.
Rashi at the beginning of the parsha states as follows: "Why is the section treating of the candelabrum put in juxtaposition with the section dealing with the offerings of the princes? Because when Aaron saw the dedication offerings of the princes, he felt distressed because neither he nor his tribe was with them in the dedication, whereupon the Holy One, blessed be He, said to him, “By your life! Your part is of greater importance than theirs, for you kindle and set in order the lights”
The lighting of the menorah is to lift up and reignite our souls in dark times. When we get caught up in petty bickering between our 'tribes', in that 'distress' the essential light of our souls gets eclipsed. What a marvelous gift when one of us can rekindle that light and help us all shine.
Shabbat Shalom,
Reb Shlomo
| 
