This week’s parshah contains the familiar passage (Devarim 26:5-8), which forms a central part of the Seder on Pesach night. As the Mishnah states (Pesachim 10:4):
וְדוֹרֵשׁ מֵאֲרַמִּי אוֹבֵד אָבִי, עַד שֶׁיִּגְמוֹר כָּל הַפָּרָשָׁה כֻלָּהּ.
“One expounds upon the section that begins, ‘Arami oveid avi’ and continues with the remainder of that section (which discusses Ya’akov’s descent to Mitzrayim and all of the events that unfolded there for the Jewish people, from the slavery to the redemption).”
In previous articles, we discussed the issue of the connection of this initial passuk with the Seder and the overall narrative of the Haggadah. But there is one basic matter that yet deserves further examination: simply put, what exactly does this passuk mean?
Early Exile
In its fuller version, the passuk states: אֲרַמִּי אֹבֵד אָבִי וַיֵּרֶד מִצְרַיְמָה… . The phrase “va’yeired Mitzraymah” translates simply enough as “he went down to Egypt.” It is the first three words – “Arami oveid avi” – that pose more of a challenge. Taken individually, we know that “Arami” means (literally) “an Aramean”; “oveid,” from the root-word אבד , has something to do with “lost”; and “avi,” of course, means “my father” – “An Aramean / lost / my father, and ‘he’ went down to Egypt.” The obvious question is how to understand this phrase. The commentators offer various approaches, a number of them quite intriguing.
One of the issues requiring elucidation is the simple matter of the subject – who is this “Aramean” that the passuk is talking about? The continuation of the verse that speaks of the descent to Mitzrayim appears to be referring to Ya’akov Avinu, who did lead his family into that exile: וַיָּבֹאוּ מִצְרָיְמָה יַעֲקֹב וְכָל־זַרְעוֹ אִתּוֹ – “And they came to Egypt – Ya’akov and all of his offspring with him” (Bereishis 46:6). In any event, the Ibn Ezra understands that the beginning of the passuk features Ya’akov, as well. He is “avi – my forefather,” who was referred to as an “Aramean” for his extended sojourn in that country at the house of his (wicked, conniving, and dangerous) father-in-law, Lavan. Regarding the term “oveid,” the Ibn Ezra notes the occurrence of this word in other places in Tanach, where it actually means “poor,” as in: תְּנוּ־שֵׁכָר לְאוֹבֵד… יִשְׁתֶּה וְיִשְׁכַּח רִישׁוֹ – “Give spirits to the ‘oveid’… let him drink, and he will forget his poverty” (Mishlei 31:6,7). In short, then, the Ibn Ezra renders “Arami oveid avi” as, “My forefather was a poor Aramean,” a reference to the fact that he initially arrived penniless at Lavan’s house.
The Rashbam explains the passuk in a related fashion, but identifies “avi” as Avraham Avinu, who originated from the land of Aram (modern-day Iraq). He also explains “oveid” slightly differently than the Ibn Ezra, translating it as “wanderer,” as we find in the verse (Yirmiyah 50:6): צֹאן אֹבְדוֹת הָיוּ עַמִּי רֹעֵיהֶם הִתְעוּם – “My nation were as wandering sheep, whose shepherds led them astray.” (As an aside, it appears that this phrase – “tzon ovdos” – is the “source” for the popular expression “lost sheep.”) And so the Rashbam understands the passuk as referring to the early wanderings of the first patriarch, whose offspring eventually settled in Mitzrayim.
Sinister Subject
Now, the simple intimation of the Haggadah itself is that the subject of this verse is actually Lavan. This we see from the manner in which the Haggadah introduces the passage: צֵא וּלְמַד מַה בִּקֵשׁ לָבָן הָאַרַמִי לַעַשׂוֹת לְיַעַקֹב אָבִינוּ, שֶׁפַּרְעֹה לֹא גָזַר אֶלָא עַל הַזְכָרִים וְלָבָן בִּקֵשׁ לַעַקוֹר אֶת הַכֹּל, שֶׁנֶאֱמַר אֲרַמִּי אֹבֵד אָבִי – “Go and learn what Lavan the Aramean sought to do to Ya’akov Avinu. For Pharaoh’s death decree applied only to the Jewish males, whereas Lavan sought to uproot everyone, as it says: ‘Arami oveid avi.’” It appears that the Haggadah’s rendering of the passuk is: “(Lavan the) Aramean sought to make my forefather go lost.” And, indeed, Rashi (in Chumash) explains the passuk in this fashion.
R’ Ya’akov Kamenetsky provides an interesting addendum to this approach. He wonders why it is that the Torah here didn’t mention Lavan by name – why refer to him simply as “an Aramean”? He explains that, in truth, Lavan wasn’t the only enemy of Ya’akov in Aram; in fact, all of Lavan’s fellow citizens were likewise aligned against Ya’akov and invested in his downfall. This we see from the fact that they apparently participated in the deceitful ordeal regarding Ya’akov’s marriage. (Lavan tricked Ya’akov into thinking he was marrying Lavan’s daughter Rachel, when in fact, it turned out to be Le’ah.) How was the whole matter kept from Ya’akov, if not for the fact that all the locals were in on the plot? Thus, all the Arameans knew, but purposely withheld the pertinent information from Ya’akov. This is why the Torah refers merely to “an Aramean.” It really did not matter which one it was; they were all aiming for the shared goal of “oveid avi” (Talelei Oros).
Thus far, we have seen a number of different possibilities as to the identity of the “Arami”: Avraham, Ya’akov, Lavan, or even the “average Joe” Aramean. The Chasam Sofer (Toras Moshe) offers yet another approach, based on a revealing teaching of Chazal. The medrashim actually identify Lavan as Bilaam, the wicked gentile prophet notorious for his (failed) attempts to curse Yisrael.
In any event, Chazal also inform us that Bilaam played a significant part in crafting the plan to enslave Yisrael in Mitzrayim, where he served in the capacity of Pharaoh’s advisor. This, then, accounts for the linkage appearing in our passuk: אֲרַמִּי אֹבֵד אָבִי וַיֵּרֶד מִצְרַיְמָה – “The Aramean sought to destroy my father, and he went down to Mitzrayim.” What is the connection? The Chasam Sofer thus explains that Lavan wanted to wipe out Ya’akov already in Aram, but was obviously unsuccessful. Nonetheless, this Aramean did not give up; in the guise of Bilaam, he eventually made his way southward – “Va’yeired Mitzraymah” (i.e., he, Bilaam, went to Egypt) – where he continued hatching plots to persecute the Jewish People. But thankfully, this attempt to defeat them also met with failure, as the familiar passage concludes: וַיִּשְׁמַע ד’ אֶת־קֹלֵנוּ… וַיּוֹצִאֵנוּ ד’ מִמִּצְרַיִם בְּיָד חֲזָקָה וּבִזְרֹעַ נְטוּיָה וּבְמֹרָא גָּדֹל וּבְאֹתוֹת וּבְמֹפְתִים – “And Hashem heard our voice… And Hashem took us out of Mitzrayim – with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, amidst a great awe and with signs and wonders.”
Did you ever notice how parents react to the exploits of their toddlers? Let us say, for example, that on the way to the babysitter, the young child – of his own accord – picks up his coat and even puts it on. Most likely, his parents will be beside themselves with joy. “Hooray!” they might exclaim, and clap enthusiastically over the little one’s display of prowess and acumen.
But if an adult was to do the exact same thing – put on his coat before going outside – no one would even bat an eyelash. And for good reason. After all, such is expected of a grown-up; he receives no special commendations for performing basic tasks.
Congratulations for Compliance
And yet, there seems to exist an example in this week’s parshah of an individual who is given accolades for what appears to be fairly standard behavior. The parshah opens with some details regarding the lighting of the Menorah in the Sanctuary: וַיְדַבֵּר ד’ אֶל־מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר, דַּבֵּר אֶל־אַהֲרֹן וְאָמַרְתָּ אֵלָיו בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ אֶת־הַנֵּרֹת אֶל־מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה יָאִירוּ שִׁבְעַת הַנֵּרוֹת – “And Hashem spoke to Moshe saying: Speak to Aharon and say to him: When you light the lamps, the seven lamps should illuminate toward the face of the Menorah” (Bamidbar 8:3). The directive refers to the arrangement of the lighting. The Menorah of the Temple is comprised of seven branches: three on either side of the central stem (the term “p’nei hamenorah” in this passuk refers to this central lamp). Aharon was thus instructed to direct the lights of the branches such that they should face toward the central lamp.
The Torah proceeds to report that Aharon adhered to the command: “Vaya’as kein Aharon – Aharon acted accordingly” (ibid. v. 3). Commenting on the need for the Torah to provide this information, Rashi states: לְהַגִיד שְׁבָחוֹ שֶׁל אַהֲרֹן שֶׁלֹא שִׁנָה – “This relates the praise of Aharon, (informing us) that he did not deviate (from the instructions).”
Aharon, of course, was a righteous individual of towering spiritual stature. There is no lack of his attributes to hold up and applaud. For example, we find that Chazal exhort us to follow the example of his sterling character. As the Mishnah states (Avos 1:12):
הֱוֵי מִתַּלְמִידָיו שֶׁל אַהֲרֹן, אוֹהֵב שָׁלוֹם וְרוֹדֵף שָׁלוֹם, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת וּמְקָרְבָן לַתּוֹרָה.
“Be from the disciples of Aharon: Loving peace and pursuing peace, loving people and drawing them close to Torah.”
So it certainly seems surprising that, of all potential qualities, the passuk here chose to emphasize this particular item. Is it really so extraordinary that Aharon lit the Menorah in accordance with Hashem’s directive? Would we have thought otherwise? Why, then, is such praise extended to Aharon for merely doing as he was told?
The truth is that many commentators grapple with this issue, providing any number of explanations. (In fact, this was the subject of a Mishnas Chayim article of a previous year [5768], where the innovative approach of the Maharil Diskin was advanced.) Due to space constraints, we will suffice here by presenting the novel approach cited by R’ Zalman Sorotzkin in his Torah commentary Oznayim LaTorah.
Pinpoint Location
What, exactly, did the instructions entail? As stated above, the matter seems to involve the directional placement of the wicks within the lamps; on either side of the central stem were three lamps, the flames of which should each face toward the center. R’ Sorotzkin points out, however, that the wording of the passuk would seem to imply that there is more to it than that. According to this arrangement, there are really only six lamps that are affected (three on each side of the central one); why, then, does the passuk include all seven lamps in the directive: אֶל־מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה יָאִירוּ שִׁבְעַת הַנֵּרוֹת ? This would seem to imply that the entirety of the Menorah is involved in the directional arrangement of the lamps.
It must be, then, that these instructions issued to Aharon entail much more than the placement of the wicks towards the central lamp. R’ Sorotzkin explains that the additional requirement relates to a classic Kabbalistic concept that speaks of a “Mikdash Shel Ma’alah – Upper Sanctuary.” Even while the Beis Hamikdash (Holy Temple) stood in Yerushalayim, there was another, corresponding Mikdash in the Heavens Above. Thus, the directive regarding the lighting of the Menorah requires that the flames of its lamps – all seven of them – should face toward the exact celestial “location” of the Menorah in the Heavenly Spheres.
Now, truth be told, this did not present such a challenge for the officiators in the Beis Hamikdash of Yerushalayim. That was a permanent structure, which was situated here on earth directly below the “location” of the Mikdash Shel Ma’alah in Heaven. As such, the Menorah’s lights were basically fixed in position right where they should be, facing the proper Celestial point.
It was in the times of the portable Mishkan (Tabernacle) that an issue arose. Here, the terrestrial Sanctuary was constantly on the move, being dismantled and transported from one place and erected in another. As such, the kohein (priest) who would light the Menorah in the Mishkan could not simply rely on the fact that the flames would automatically face the proper Celestial location. Rather, he had to be able to discern – from wherever he stood on earth – exactly where the Menorah in Heaven was situated. Obviously, this could not be achieved by any ordinary person, as it required an intimate knowledge and familiarity with the Celestial spheres. As such, only an individual whose soul was extremely refined and pristine, whose essence was lofty and elevated, could possess such spiritual sensitivities to pinpoint this location.
This, explains R’ Sorotzkin, was the essence of the praise accorded to Aharon. He was not commended simply for following instructions, but for the fact that he was capable of carrying them out. In other words, his ability to successfully execute this service indicates his lofty spiritual stature; for it was only because of his exalted level that he could so precisely fulfill his task.
