Looking For The Light- Beha’alotcha 5785

My family and I spent most of last week on the west coast in Oregon, where I officiated the wedding of my youngest brother and new sister-in-law. It was, in a word, wonderful. It’s very rare nowadays for all of my brothers and our parents to be together in the same place at once, and the fact that it was for a simcha with other close friends made it all the more special.

If you’ve ever been to the Pacific Northwest, you might have noticed that in the summertime it stays light outside for longer than it does here in our neck of the woods in New England. This, I’ll say, has taken some getting used to on my part and my family’s part. My brother in law and his wife live in Seattle, and the first time we visited them out there several years ago I had trouble falling asleep at my usual bedtime (yes, I’m a creature of habit). Even at 10:00pm, it seemed, there was still some light in the sky, and in the morning the sun comes out bright and early (thank G-d Seattle has good coffee). I’ve learned, as a result, to pack my sleep mask and melatonin alongside my shaving cream and toothbrush and everything else. But, all things considered, I rather enjoy the sunlight.

I remember that when I was teaching full time, I would go seemingly months at a time without ever getting any sun. I would leave the house before 7am with the sky still dark and the sun not yet risen, and would come home around 4pm or so with the sun already set and the day already grey and darkening. The only sunshine I would see and experience was either looking out the window of my school, or those brief cold moments when I would bundle up and go outside to walk to get lunch at the market across the street.

Light is the very first thing created in the Torah. The third verse of the Torah reads: Vayomer Elokim yehi or, va’yehi or– “G-d said ‘Let there be light’, and there was light. And it’s not just any light that G-d creates: the very next verse reads “Va’yar Elokim et ha’or ki tov, va’yavdel Elokim bein ha’or u’vein ha’chosheh. “And G-d saw that the light was good, and G-d separated between the light and the darkness.”

Just as light is created on the first day of creation, Aaron is commanded to kindle the good lights of the menorah in the mishkan at the start of parshat Beha’alotcha. We read at the start of the parsha that G-d says to Moshe: 

דַּבֵּר֙ אֶֽל־אַהֲרֹ֔ן וְאָמַרְתָּ֖ אֵלָ֑יו בְּהַעֲלֹֽתְךָ֙ אֶת־הַנֵּרֹ֔ת אֶל־מוּל֙ פְּנֵ֣י הַמְּנוֹרָ֔ה יָאִ֖ירוּ שִׁבְעַ֥ת הַנֵּרֽוֹת׃

Speak to Aaron and say to him, “When you mount [or kindle] the lamps, let the seven lamps give light at the front of the lampstand.”

וַיַּ֤עַשׂ כֵּן֙ אַהֲרֹ֔ן אֶל־מוּל֙ פְּנֵ֣י הַמְּנוֹרָ֔ה הֶעֱלָ֖ה נֵרֹתֶ֑יהָ כַּֽאֲשֶׁ֛ר צִוָּ֥ה יְהֹוָ֖ה אֶת־מֹשֶֽׁה׃

Aaron did so; he mounted the lamps at the front of the lampstand, as Hashem had commanded Moses.

Every evening, at the start of the day, Aaron is to light the holy menorah in the tabernacle in order to sanctify the space as holy. Essentially, Aaron’s job is a custodial one- it’s turning on the lights in a space for a designated purpose. The holy space can’t perform its designated function if light isn’t present. 

In our house, I have a set progression in the morning (especially in the winter). I wake up, turn on the light in the bathroom, and then the light in the kitchen when I make coffee, etc. etc. We all know if it’s too bright, too fast, that can be jarring and uncomfortable. But I want to imagine that the lights kindled by Aaron, being fire, are a sign of comfort and warmth, just as the light of a fire in a fireplace in a big room makes it cozy and inviting. 

Aaron not only makes the sacred precinct holy and welcoming, but this is one of the custodial acts of the tabernacle that he and the Levites are to perform day in and day out. When we do something habitually, or every day, it can sometimes become stale. However, there’s a midrash connected with the words of our parsha- v’ya’as ken Aharon, “Aaron did so”- which interprets that Aaron, each and every day, performed his seemingly mundane responsibilities with excitement and intention. It was an act of creation that was essential, and one that he did repeatedly with joy.

The fact that this is a daily task- creating light and bringing it into the world- shows that Aaron’s actions are godly actions. The first blessing of the Shacharit service includes the words: Hamichadesh b’tuvo b’chol yom tamid ma’aseh v’reisheet– G-d is the One who renews, in his goodness, every day, the action of creation. And that blessing concludes: Or chadash al Tzion ta’ir– “a new light will shine on Zion…blessed are you, our G-d, who creates the great lights” (referring to the sun and moon). The sun rises every day; the tabernacle itself is a microcosm of the Garden of Eden, complete with a resplendent tree represented by the menorah which Aaron lights every day. As the sun rises daily, so too we and Aaron daily enlighten the world, and are enlightened by it. 

When we bring light into the world- when we brighten someone’s day- we enact the work of creation ourselves. Moreover, when we do it joyfully and with intention- as G-d and Aaron did- we are truly acting in the divine image. This is one way of engaging in tikkun olam, repairing a world which can seem very disordered, very broken, and very dark.

It can be hard to find the light in the world, especially now. When we look at the state of our country or Israel, for example, it can seem that darkness is pervasive. But by doing what we can to let in the light, which we do through mitzvot, we allow goodness and godliness to come through. We need to be lamplighters, like Aaron, to bring holiness into the world and brighten our lives (literally and metaphorically). 

The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, famously taught that there are sparks of divinity (nitzotzot) in the world that it’s our responsibility to gather up. We gather these by performing acts of hesed. Moreover, each and every Jew has a spark of divine light within them, no matter their level of observance. There is light to be found in each of us and everywhere, even in those places and people where it may seem impossible to find. The challenge is to find it, and acknowledge it. 

Louis Brandeis famously said, “Sunlight is the best disinfectant”. It feels like there’s a lot right now in our lives that need to be disinfected. Let’s start with ourselves, bringing our own light into the world and, in turn, having our light help others to find their own. To hearken back to my teacher days, it’s been said that good education is not akin to filling a bucket, but to lighting a fire. The fire that Aaron kindles, which brings heat and light and goodness into the world daily, is a model for how we should live our lives.

Now that we’re back home from Oregon, it took a few days this week to readjust to the different light here at home. I’m enjoying it now, I would say, more than I did before, noting how the time of daylight is still increasing at the start of the summer. I’m using it as motivation to wake up a bit earlier and enjoy the day (or at least part of it) outside. It’s great to enjoy the light amidst the darkness in the world.

During this time of darkness, may we each have a summer of light, of brightness, of easy going carefreeness, and of Torah and mitzvot. The book of Proverbs teaches: נֵר מִצְוָה וְתוֹרָה אוֹר/ “The mitzvot are a lamp, and Torah is the light.” Let us keep searching for the light in ourselves, in others, and in the world. Shabbat Shalom.