Rabbi's Corner

In this week’s parashah, Parashat Shelach Lecha, we find the following: “And how is the Land --- is it wealthy or poor?  Are there trees in it or not?  And you shall strengthen yourselves, and you shall take from the fruit of the Land….” (BeMidbar 13:20) The question that might be asked is this: Why was it so important for Moshe to see the fruit of Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel)?  What could be so important that the meraglim (spies) should bring back a cluster of grapes for Moshe to see?  We look to Rebbe Nachman of Breslov for a possible answer.  He teaches that the fruit of Eretz Yisrael possesses the attribute of the very air of Eretz Yisrael that one breathes while there (Likutei Moharan, I:61).  Our Tradition teaches that breathing the air of Eretz Yisrael makes one wiser.  David HaMelech (King David) states: “The beginning of wisdom is the fear (awe) of Hashem.” (Tehillim 111:10)  In other words, to begin to gain wisdom, you must be in awe of HaShem Who is all wisdom.  What Moshe hoped the meraglim would do was to view the land from a spiritual perspective rather than from a physical perspective.  They in fact did not do this (other than Yehoshua and Kalev), and the rest, as they say, is history.  How does one view the world from a spiritual perspective?  Perhaps the following Chasidic parable will help clarify the mistake that the meraglim made:

 Laibel was fed up with life in the big city of Lvov.  He decided to sell his modest flat and his sundries shop and live the robust life of a farmer in the outback of Galicia.  But, since a Jew needs a minyan, he chose a shtetl where he could have the best of both worlds --- a quaint little country homestead with a garden and a cowshed and a Beit Midrash nearby that offered daily prayer services with a minyan.  Obviously being a greenhorn city slicker, Laibel looked a bit funny to the locals.  On the other hand, they looked a bit coarse to him.  He felt superior to them, because he knew how to learn Gemara, while most of them knew only their daily prayers, Chumash with Rashi, and Tehillim (the Psalms).  Laibel began walking around with his nose high in the air.  Unbeknownst to him, however, he was setting himself up to receive a good lesson.

Every Thursday morning there was a rinok (an outdoor market) in Tereschov.  The farmers and craftsmen from the surrounding villages would take advantage of the morning minyan in Tereschov and then proceed to the market and exhibit their wares, produce, livestock, and anything else they had to sell or barter.  Laibel needed a cow so that he could make his own milk, butter, and cheese.  After morning minyan, still dressed in his brown city suit, he went down to the market square strutting along in his oversized self-importance.  When he reached a gathering of several peasants who were standing around some Holstein cattle, he loudly declared: “I want to buy a cow!”  Chaimk’e, the shrewd livestock trader, saw at once that he had a fat gullible “fish on the line.”  He winked at Simchal’e, the Tereschov shtiebel beadle, indicating that he intended to have some fun with this highbrow from Lvov who thought he was smarter than anyone else.

Chaimk’e showed Laibel one cow, but Laibel refused saying the cow looked too weak.  He then showed Laibel another cow, but Laibel turned that one down as well saying that it looked too old.  He showed Laibel a third cow which Laibel dismissed with a wave of his hand declaring that the price was too high.  “Then what on earth do you want?” Chaimk’e frustratingly asked, “a cow that gives chocolate milk?”  The other Tereschovniks were rolling in laughter as they enjoyed seeing Laibel being brought down a peg.  “No,” answered Laibel with his nose still held high in the air.  “I want something big, young, strong, and not too expensive!”  Chaimk’e replied, biting his lip to prevent himself from laughing: “I have just the behema for you --- a perfect animal at a reasonable price!”  He then took a young bull that was earmarked for slaughter and sold it to Laibel for double the price the shochet would have paid.  Ruvkie, the town jester, could not resist just one last jibe as Laibel proudly led his newly purchased animal away.  “Laibel, save me some buttermilk.  I will pay you triple the market price!”

Laibel could not understand why all the Tereschov peasants were holding their sides while roaring with laughter and slapping each other on the back.  “Simpletons,” he snarled under his breath as he continued walking home.  Once he reached home, Laibel put the animal in the cowshed, fed it some grain and straw, washed out a pail, and sat down to milk his new “cow.”  Much to his dismay, he could not find the “cow’s” udder.  “Idiot!” he yelled at himself while slapping his forehead as he realized he had been swindeled.  “If only I had inspected the animal from the inside!”

 The “cow” of the parable is symbolic of what the ten meraglim saw when they spied out the Land.  The Torah tell us that they reported back to Moshe and the B’nei Yisrael how the Land was flowing with milk and honey.  They had even fulfilled Moshe’s request to bring back some of the fruit of the Land.  But they also brought back with them the doubt and the fear they felt as they looked at the Land and its inhabitants using their material eyes and not their spiritual eyes.  Had these ten meraglim and the B’nei Yisrael looked “from the inside” instead of from the outside, if they had come to realize that Hashem had “set up” a guaranteed victory in their conquest of the Land, there would have been no forty years of wandering in the wilderness – not only the wandering in the physical wilderness in which they found themselves but also the wandering in the spiritual wilderness which they found within themselves.

Rebbe Nachman teaches that there is no such thing as despair in this world as long as we have both emunah (faith) and bitachon (trust) in Hashem.  May we never forget that we have been chosen by HaShem to bring kadosh (holiness, sanctity) into both the physical and the spiritual worlds in which we live.