Here in Eretz Yisrael, we are seeing many events unfold without fully understanding what we’re seeing—political messes (well, that’s not new), massive call-ups of reserves, and President Trump sending mixed messages about the war. Baruch Hashem, a hostage, Idan Alexander, was released by Hamas this week. We hope the rest will be released soon! And it happened… because President Trump waved his hand? What about the others? There is a lack of clarity in the situation; the picture is definitely unclear.
At the end of Parshas Emor, we have the story of the ben ishah Yisraelis—the son of a Jewish woman, Shlomis bas Divri. He was the only child fathered by a Mitzri from a Jewish woman (by force) in Mitzrayim—the same Mitzri whom Moshe killed. He wasn’t considered a Jew and had undergone geirus (conversion). He became upset and cursed Hashem’s Name. Rashi brings several explanations for what happened.
One explanation is that he heard about the lechem hapanim, the special bread in the Mishkan that was placed on the Shulchan and distributed to the Kohanim a week later. He mocked it—how could you serve week-old cold bread to the King? That’s called honoring the King?
Another reason is that he wanted to pitch his tent in the encampment of Shevet Dan, where his mother was from. He had nowhere else to go. The Danites told him it wasn’t his place since his father wasn’t from that Shevet. They went to Moshe’s Beis Din, and he lost the case. He left and cursed Hashem.
Before we continue, let’s point out the obvious—sometimes that’s the most surprising part. This man was a mature adult. He had been born in Mitzrayim after the incident when Moshe killed the Mitzri and fled due to Doson and Aviram. There are different opinions on how old Moshe was then, but all agree he was young. According to the Midrash, Moshe went to Kush, where he drove out Bilam and ruled for many years, before going to Midyan, where he spent many more years. When Moshe returned at age 80, the son of Shlomis bas Divri was already a mature man.
This incident occurred in the second year in the Midbar, after the Shevatim had their designated places around the Mishkan, and the service had just begun—hence the lechem hapanim. He wasn’t a hot-headed youth; he was a grown man. Still, he was so bothered by either issue that he lost control and cursed Hashem’s Name.
What should he have done?
Regarding the lechem hapanim, all he had to do was ask. He could’ve asked the Kohanim or anyone else and would have learned that the bread remained hot and fresh, miraculously! He would have realized his premise was mistaken. A little research would’ve uncovered something incredible and prevented the whole incident.
Regarding where to pitch his tent, he should’ve thought: “Wait—I’m inside the ananei hakavod, the Clouds of Glory! Only Klal Yisrael is allowed here. My geirus brought me inside. I may not be from the Shevatim, each with its unique attributes, but I have my own unique place and strengths to contribute to Klal Yisrael. My position is different, not lesser.”
He should have learned from Yisro. Moshe told Yisro, “You were einayim—eyes for us.” With his unique geir perspective, Yisro helped us immensely.
The ben ish Yisraelis looked only on the surface and deeply misinterpreted what he saw. Had he investigated even a little, he would’ve found all the answers to his questions.
Backing up to the beginning of the parshah, we find the opposite. Aharon HaKohein was taught all the laws of tumas meis—impurity from the dead—and who a Kohein may become tamei for. Aharon accepted all of it, as we saw when he followed Moshe’s instruction not to mourn after the death of his sons. One can be greatly troubled by seeing a meis. That active person has become the opposite. Especially if one doesn’t internalize that there is Olam HaBa—a continuation. They see only the end, when it’s actually the beginning of something far greater.
Aharon understood that there are deeper levels. The Kohanim have a unique status and role regarding tumah. When Moshe taught Torah to Klal Yisrael, it was with chochmah—wisdom. Aharon was gifted with binah—a deeper understanding. That’s why these halachos are taught at the beginning of the parshah, in contrast with the story of the lechem hapanim and the ben ishah Yisraelis at the end.
We see this theme in Lag Ba’Omer, too.
The Gemara in Shabbos tells the story of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai (Rashbi). Yehuda ben Geirim repeated what he overheard the Rabbanim say about the Romans, including Rashbi’s harsh words. The Romans heard and wanted to kill Rashbi. It wasn’t that Yehuda ben Geirim was an informer, but that he wasn’t careful enough when repeating words not meant to be shared.
(Tosafos in Moed Katan 9a notes that Rashbi later told his son to seek a berachah from Yehuda ben Geirim, showing he was still a great person. This is clearly not a simple story.)
When Rashbi and his son came out of the cave, they revealed the Zohar HaKadosh, the hidden Torah. This is the deepest level of the oral Torah, attained through intense learning of the written Torah. Rashbi’s rebbi was Rabbi Akiva, who delved into every detail of Torah, even the tagim—the “crowns” on the letters. Rashbi used his years in the cave to bring out the hidden light of Torah.
The parshah ends with “Ani Hashem Elokeichem.” Rashi explains that just as Hashem places His Name on Klal Yisrael, He also places His Name on geirim. When they accept the Torah fully, Hashem watches over them just as He watches over all of Klal Yisrael.
We must try to see deeper, to learn and understand what we’re seeing—and know that Hashem is always guiding us with hashgachah pratis.
We certainly cannot understand the confusion of current events with a superficial view. But through the lens of Torah—knowing that Hashem is in complete control and that there is no power but Him—we can be assured that everything is unfolding in the best possible way.
May we be zocheh to greet Moshiach very soon!
Based on shiurim by Rav Yisrael Altusky shlita, Yeshiva Torah Ohr, Yerushalayim.
