Your Mission Here and Now

In one of the most fascinating and cryptic stories in Torah, two of the sons of Aaron the high priest, Nadav and Avihu, entered the holy of holies in parshas Shemini and offered unauthorized incense on the altar. Immediately, a fire came forth from heaven and consumed their souls.

A host of opinions are proffered as to what trespass was committed which was worthy of such a swift and harsh divine response. Some teach that it was because the brothers entered the sanctuary drunk, others contend that they were punished because they took it upon themselves to perform the service without being commanded and without consulting their teacher Moses, while another view declares that they were unfit for the service because they had not produced any offspring. The Chassidic masters provide a unique perspective which reevaluates the idea of “sin” and reimagines the concept of divine punishment.

In Kabbalistic literature, it is explained that the soul is like a flame that seeks to separate from the wick that holds it and return to the source of fire in the heavens. Such is our soul’s longing to cast off the physicality that confines us and be united completely with the G-dliness from which it derives. This desire is called “ratzo,” a “running” or leaping upward. But the wick holds the flame, and likewise the body must hold the soul, for it is G-d’s will that we remain below in order to make this dark and lowly world a dwelling place for His light and presence. This knowledge of G-d’s intent creates in us a retreat, a contrary motion to the “ratzo” which is called “shov/return.” Life is thus a constant balance between the surge of “ratzo” and the restraint of “shov.” We reach for G-dly connection, but we hold our position and thus bring that connection down to the place where it is needed most.

Nadav and Avihu had “ratzo” but not “shov.” Their urge to merge with the divine was so great that they were unable to maintain any distance. They leapt toward the heavens so ecstatically that they left the earth behind completely. According to this approach we can also understand the explanations offered by the other commentators: Nadav and Avihu were indeed intoxicated, their drunkenness was a spiritual one and their senses were blurred by their intense love for G-d; they failed to consult Moses their master who was a perfect embodiment of high and low and who fused the heavens and the earth through ascending Mount Sinai and descending with the Torah; their lack of offspring denoted their failure to contribute to the material world because they were overly consumed with the spiritual.

Did Nadav and Avihu thus “sin”? Was Hashem’s response one of “retribution”? It could be explained that the brothers received precisely what they desired, complete rapture and the elimination of the boundaries that kept them from experiencing G-dliness directly. In fact, Moses consoles his brother Aaron by explaining that the deaths were proof that Nadav and Avihu were even holier than Moses and Aaron themselves.

From here we can assert that Hashem gives to man precisely what man desires most. And yet we are to learn further that our purpose here on earth is to strive to fulfill G-d’s agenda even if it is contrary to our own. Nadav and Avihu lacked the “shov” that is an essential part of the divine plan for each of us in this world. From them we are to glean the awareness of our mission here and now, and while we must strive ever upward, we will focus constantly on our responsibility to illuminate the creation below.

— Pnei Hashem is an introduction to the deepest depths of the human experience based on the esoteric teachings of Torah.  www.pneihashem.com