The opening of the third book of the Torah, ספר ויקרא, contains a message that hits with incredible force as we navigate one of the most painful chapters in our history. Within the laws of the service, the Avodah, in the Mishkan lies a fundamental lesson in the connection between spiritual greatness and true humility.
The Torah begins with the words: "וַיִּקְרָא אֶל מֹשֶׁה וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֵלָיו מֵאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד"-"And He called to Moshe, and G-d spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting." Our Sages in מדרש ויקרא רבה (א, טו) notice something important about this invitation. They point out that although Moshe Rabbeinu had reached a level of prophecy that no other human ever achieved, speaking to G-d "פָּנִים אֶל פָּנִים" (face to face), he did not walk into the Tabernacle as if he owned the place. Despite being the greatest leader and prophet, he stood at the entrance and waited. He refused to enter the Tent of Meeting until he was explicitly called by the Almighty.
From this moment of hesitation, the Sages teach us a lesson that should change how we look at the world. רבי ברכיה says in the name of רבי חלבו:
"כָּל תַּלְמִיד חָכָם שֶׁאֵין בּוֹ דַּעַת, נְבֵלָה טוֹבָה הֵימֶנּוּ"
"Any Torah scholar who lacks Da'at (basic decency and proper conduct), a carcass is better than him."
This is a shocking statement. Usually, the Torah tells us: "לְעוֹלָם יְסַפֵּר אָדָם בְּלָשׁוֹן נְקִיָּה"-"A person should always speak in refined language" (תלמוד בבלי, פסחים ג, א). Yet, the Midrash uses the graphic word נבלה (carcass) to describe a scholar who lacks character.
A carcass is repulsive; it has a stench, and people know to avoid it. But a carcass is, per se, honest; it does not pretend to be anything else. However, a person who cloaks themselves in the mantle of Torah-wearing the external signs of a "Ben Torah"-yet acts with arrogance or a sense of entitlement, creates a spiritual disaster.
This is tragically relevant today in the Land of Israel, where we see bitter conflicts between the religious and secular sectors, and between those who serve in the army, those who learn in Yeshivas that combine study with army service, and those who obtain exemptions from service to learn in the Yeshiva. When a religious Jew looks at a secular soldier with a sense of "spiritual superiority," or uses the Torah as a shield to justify a lack of sensitivity to the burden our neighbors carry, they have lost their Da'at.
In that moment, the Torah they learn ceases to be a "Sama D'Chaiya" (medicine of life) and becomes something that creates a חילול השם (desecration of G-d's Name). People look at the behavior and ask, "Is this what G-d's word produces?" In this sense, the carcass is "better" because it does not trick anyone into turning away from the Torah by misrepresenting it.
The בעל הטורים (ויקרא א, א) explains the mystery of the א' זעירא-the tiny letter Aleph at the end of the word ויקרא:
"מֹשֶׁה רָצָה לִכְתֹּב 'וַיִּקָר' כְּדֶרֶךְ שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר בְּבִלְעָם, כְּאִלּוּ לֹא נִדְבַּר עִמּוֹ אֶלָּא בְּדֶרֶךְ עֲרַאי, וְאָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לִכְתֹּב בְּאָלֶ"ף... וּכְתָבָהּ קְטַנָּה."
"Moshe wanted to write 'Vayikar' [without the Aleph], as was said regarding Balaam, as if G-d had only spoken to him by chance. But the Holy One, Blessed be He, told him to write it with an Aleph... so he wrote it small."
Moshe shrunk his own "I" (his ego) so that G-d's word would be the focus. If Moshe, who spoke to G-d face to face, could make his Aleph small, how can we allow our Alephs to grow so large that they block out the sacrifice of our brothers?
The Sages teach in תלמוד בבלי, פסחים נ, א that those who give their lives for the Jewish people-the קדושים-occupy a place in heaven that no other creature can reach:
"וְשָׁמַעְתִּי שֶׁהָיוּ אוֹמְרִים: הֲרוּגֵי מַלְכוּת - אֵין כָּל בְּרִיָּה יְכוֹלָה לַעֲמוֹד בִּמְחִיצָתָם."
"And I heard them saying: 'Regarding those martyrs (Kedoshim) executed by the government-no creature can stand within their partition (mechitzah).'"
When a soldier-regardless of their level of observance-dies על קידוש השם, they reach a level of holiness that defines our nation. If even the highest angels cannot stand in the presence of a קדוש, how can we let our own egos or our "spiritual status" take up space in their shadow? When we devalue the sacrifice of our brothers because they don't look like us, we have replaced the "Small Aleph" of Moshe with the "Large Aleph" of the ego.
A truly Torah-loyal Jew is one who lives a life of the Small Aleph regarding themselves, yet looks at every other Jew as if they are a Large Aleph. Our duty is to follow the example of Moshe Rabbeinu. We must show the world that the Torah does not make a person arrogant; it cleanses the heart until we can see the special, holy light-the pintele Yid-in every fellow Jew, regardless of the path they walk.
Rabbi Eliezer Simcha Weisz is a member of the Chief Rabbinate Rabbinic Council.