Behaalotcha: The Mighty Droplet

“Hashem spoke to Moses, saying: “Speak to Aaron and say to him: when you kindle the lamps…”(Numbers 8:1).

Aaron the High Priest was disappointed that every tribal leader had his own special day in the dedication ceremonies of the new Tabernacle, yet he and his tribe – the tribe of Levi – were excluded. Rashi tells us that Hashem consoled Aaron, explaining that his portion of service was greater than theirs, since he would be preparing and kindling the holy menorah every single day.

During each of the twelve inaugural days of the Tabernacle, each tribe received its own special day of glory. To the cheering of millions of onlookers, each tribal head presented his tribal offering to the Tabernacle. Aaron and the Levites were totally on the sidelines. Now, Hashem consoles Aaron, saying, “Your task is greater than theirs – you get the privilege of kindling the holy menorah.” Aaron would have no audience, no recognition and no one cheering for him.

What type of consolation was this?

The menorah was situated inside the Tent of Meeting, the ohel moed, far from the public eye. This was a mitzva devoid of pomp, prestige and publicity or any other modern concept of incentive. Yet, it was so much more meaningful and powerful that each tribal head’s gifts and day of glory. True, millions cheered for them and they received huge recognition, but theirs was a lone event that never recurred – a one-shot deal. Aaron’s task was daily, for posterity. He and his offspring would enjoy the intimacy of a sublime, height-of-holiness connection with Hashem, every single day.

Hashem is teaching us here that it’s not the public recognition and prestige that gives value to a mitzva. The contrary; a mitzva is worth most when it’s far from the public eye and done with daily dedication.

Consecutive tiny drops of water are mighty when persistent.

We learn in Avot D’Rebbe Natan, one of the minor tractates of Talmud (see chapter six, Mishna two), that Rebbe Akiva was forty years old yet he had still not learned Torah. Indeed, he was completely illiterate. Once, he came upon a well and asked, “Who hewed the hole in this stone?” People answered him, “The drops of water that constantly fall on it every day,” adding a quote from the Book of Job (14:9), telling him, “Akiva, haven’t you read, ‘Stones that water eroded?’” Rebbe  Akiva deduced in regard to himself: “If soft water can affect the hard rock, then words of Torah, which are hard like iron, can, can certainly penetrate into my heart which is flesh and blood.” Immediately he began to learn Torah, and the rest is history. Rebbe Akiva became one of our nation’s greatest sages ever.

The tiny drops of water that hew holes in rocks show the power of persistence and daily dedication. Many people think that if a Torah scholar doesn’t gain international recognition and acclaim, then he isn’t worth much. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I had the privilege of knowing a retired cab driver from Brooklyn who moved to Jerusalem. Twenty years ago, when he was in his eighties, he had completed the entire Talmud eight times. For fifty six consecutive years, he learned the daily page of Gemara, the Daf Yomi, without having missed a single day. We are talking about over 20,000 consecutive days of Gemara learning, rain or shine! Who could boast such an accomplishment? Yet, this remarkable Jew was far from the public eye. Without a doubt, he merited a place for posterity in the upper Holy of Holies, in closest proximity to Hashem.

Let’s shed our western mentalities and shy away from the publicity and recognition, which are meaningless anyway. If the Torah is compared to water (see Isaiah 55:1), then the steady daily drops of our learning are ever so mighty. They will surely pierce the barriers of stone that separate between us and the full redemption of our people, speedily and in our days, amen!