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Parshas Hashavua – Rabbi Yechezkel Sofer · Lesson 3 · 30 Sivan 5782

Shemini: When Moshe Rabbeinu Carried Out a 'Targeted Killing' | Rabbi Yechezkel Sofer

Episode description

When Moshe Rabbeinu Carried Out a 'Targeted Killing' | Rabbi Yechezkel Sofer

Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.

00:16 Hello to all our viewers and listeners. We are now at Parshas Chukas. We’ve entered the month of Tammuz, the month of the Geulah of Gimmel Tammuz and 13 Tammuz. In the second half of our parsha, we’re told about the wars the Jewish people fought before entering the Land, on the border of Canaan. After the Torah describes their victory over Sichon, king of the Emorites, and their settlement in the land of the Emorites, it tells us that they must go and fight Og, king of Bashan. The Torah says in chapter 21, verse 34: “Hashem said to Moshe: Do not fear him, for I have given him, all his people, and his land into your hand. Do to him as you did to Sichon, king of the Emorites, who dwelt in Cheshbon.” And verse 35 concludes: “They struck him, his sons, and all his people, until no survivor remained, and they took possession of his land.” On the words “They struck him,” Rashi makes a surprising point: “Moshe killed him.” In other words, Moshe Rabbeinu himself killed Og—a targeted strike. And what does he base this on? He says, “As stated in Berachos,” in the chapter Haroeh of Tractate Berachos. There’s a story there: “He uprooted a mountain three parsos across”—Og uprooted a mountain with a diameter of three parsos, and so on. Want to know the rest of the story? Look in Tractate Berachos. There’s a wonderful sicha of the Rebbe on this Rashi in volume 8. The Rebbe asks: Where did Rashi get this surprising information that Moshe personally killed Og? The very verse he’s commenting on explicitly says “They struck him”—in the plural, meaning the Jewish people as a whole. So how does he know this was Moshe Rabbeinu’s own doing? The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh commentary on Rashi, noticed this question. On the words “Moshe killed him,” he says: “As it is written,” and cites the previous verse, verse 34. It explicitly says, “For I have given him into your hand.” That implies he was given into the hand of

03:51 Moshe. Ah, but there it says “your hand,” while here it says “They struck him,” in the plural. So he offers an interesting explanation: each acted in his own way. Moshe and the Jewish people struck him and his sons. How? Moshe killed Og, and the Jewish people killed his sons. So, taken together, the verse says “They struck” in the plural. That’s how the Gur Aryeh explains it. The Rebbe asks: This explanation needs a great deal of examination. We find many times in the Torah that Hakadosh Boruch Hu addresses Moshe in the singular—not because Moshe will personally do what Hashem says, but because He is speaking to him as the leader representing the entire people. You can address the people as a whole, collectively, in the singular. So how does Rashi know? Perhaps “your hand” means the hand of the Jewish people as a whole. The Rebbe gives an example: In the book of Devarim, the same words are used concerning Sichon. In chapter 2 it says, “See, I have given Sichon, king of the Emorites, into your hand.” The Rebbe says: Nowhere do we find any suggestion that Moshe personally killed the giant Sichon. So what does “your hand” mean? The hand of the Jewish people. Perhaps that’s what it means here too. The Rebbe asks another question. In the verse that says “your hand,” which the Maharal of Prague takes as proof that Moshe did it personally, look what comes next: “For I have given him and all his people into your hand.” All his people too. Did Moshe personally kill all of them as well? Certainly not. Rather, “your hand” means the Jewish people as a whole. So what proof is there that Moshe did this personally? He asks another question about Rashi’s support for the claim that Moshe himself killed Og. Rashi cites Tractate Berachos. Fine, Rashi often brings proofs from the Gemara, but in most cases he names the tractate, not the chapter.

06:50 Here he says, “In Berachos, in Haroeh”—the chapter Haroeh. Why? What difference does that make? There’s another question about this source in Tractate Berachos. When Rashi cites a story or a source, he either tells you to look there or quotes the relevant passage that teaches the point. In the Gemara, it’s a long story—I’ll read it in a moment. But interestingly, Rashi quotes only the words “He uprooted a mountain three parsos across,” meaning that Og uprooted a mountain with a diameter of three parsos. Well, how does that prove Moshe killed him? It doesn’t prove that. And then Rashi says “and so on.” Let’s read the story as it appears in the Gemara. The Gemara relates that he uprooted this mountain intending to throw it onto the Jewish people and destroy them. He uprooted it and placed it over his head, around his neck. Hakadosh Boruch Hu brought a colony of ants upon it, and they gnawed through the mountain, leaving a hole through which his neck slipped. He wanted to lift the mountain off his neck to throw it at the Jews, but his teeth jutted out to either side—to the right and left. These were the enormous teeth of a giant like Og, and he couldn’t get the mountain off his head. The Gemara cites the verse, “You have broken the teeth of the wicked.” What does “broken” mean? The Gemara interprets it as “extended”: his teeth protruded and prevented him from lifting it off. Now I’m in suspense. How did they kill him? The Talmud concludes the story: How tall was Moshe? Ten amos. He took a staff ten amos long and jumped ten amos. That makes thirty amos altogether, and he reached only the giant Og’s ankle. Then the Gemara concludes: He struck Og on the ankle with that staff and killed him. The Rebbe asks: That last sentence is the proof that Moshe Rabbeinu himself killed him. That’s what Rashi should have quoted. What does he quote

09:57 instead? “He uprooted a mountain three parsos across.” It’s a very nice story, but it still doesn’t prove that Moshe himself killed him. So this Rashi is very puzzling. The Rebbe answers: Here is the explanation. On verse 34, which says, “Do not fear him, for I have given him into your hand,” Rashi explains why Moshe needed to be told, “Do not fear him.” Before earlier wars, Hashem hadn’t first told him, “Do not fear him.” Rashi says Moshe was afraid to fight, lest Og’s merit for helping Avraham stand him in good stead. After all, it says concerning Avraham, “The fugitive came” and told him that Lot had been taken. Because of Og, Avraham went to war with the kings, so that merit might mean they would not succeed in defeating him. That was why Moshe was afraid. Interestingly, the Rebbe notes: Why does Rashi need to say that Moshe was afraid? The beginning of the verse says, “Hashem said to Moshe: Do not fear him.” Clearly, it’s referring to Moshe. Why emphasize that Moshe was afraid? The Rebbe offers an interesting insight: Rashi holds that only Moshe was afraid of Og. Why? With his holy eyes, Moshe saw that Og had the merit of helping Avraham, which might protect him, and he was concerned that he would not be able to overcome him. The Jewish people, by contrast, says the Rebbe, were not particularly afraid at all. The Rebbe puts it this way: The Jewish people looked at Og as just some oversized non-Jew, nothing to be afraid of—especially in light of what they had already experienced. They had already fought Moav; they had witnessed the miracle at the Arnon River, where the mountains came together and crushed their enemies; and they had already defeated Sichon, king of the Emorites. There, the Torah doesn’t say anyone was afraid of him. They were accustomed to miracles. The Rebbe points out that just one verse before our story, it says Moshe sent spies into the land of the Emorites, and they captured Yazer.

12:45 Who, says Rashi? The spies captured it. They said: “We are confident in the power of Moshe’s prayer to fight.” So Rashi offers a new insight. Hashem says to Moshe: “Do not be afraid”—you personally—even though you see that Og has the merit of what he did for Avraham. So there was a concern. Moshe was concerned. Since Og was not one of the seven nations they had been commanded to conquer, it did not necessarily follow that Hakadosh Boruch Hu would help them conquer his land. His merit might protect him, so that they would be unable to conquer his land. And then what would happen? They would have to go around it, lengthening their journey to the Land of Israel. That is why Moshe was afraid. Rashi therefore holds that “Do not be afraid of him” cannot be addressed to the Jewish people as a whole, because they were not afraid of him at all. But wait—why does the verse continue, “I have given him, his people and his land” into your hand? His entire people and his land. Rashi is saying that, regarding Og’s people and land, Moshe was no different from the rest of the Jewish people: just as they were not afraid, he was not afraid of them either. But when it came to Og himself, only Moshe was afraid of him. So Hashem had to assure Moshe, “I will give him into your own hand.” Interestingly, we need to add the verse before this: “And Og, king of Bashan, went out against them—he and all his people—to battle at Edrei.” What is the point of “he”? You already said “Og, king of Bashan”; just add “and all his people.” Why say “he”? Og, king of Bashan, did not come merely as the commander of his people. He came in his own right. He had his own merit. So here, too, we have to explain it as Rashi does: “Do not be afraid of him.” To whom is He saying “Do not be afraid”? We cannot say He is addressing the Jewish people as a whole, and that “I have given him into your hand” means into the hand of the Jewish people. Because if so, wait—

15:36 Who is “him”? If “do not be afraid” addresses the Jewish people, and “into your hand” means into the hand of the Jewish people, then “do not be afraid of him” would mean Og’s people. So why does it then say “him, his people and his land”? “Him” would already include his people. Ah, when I say “Do not be afraid of him,” I mean Og personally. So “do not be afraid” also addresses you personally: Moshe Rabbeinu, do not be afraid, because I have given him into your own hand. This is proof that Moshe himself killed him. The Rebbe continues: If so, the proof is very good, but another verse becomes difficult. Why does it say, “And they struck him, his sons and all his people”? “They struck”? Clearly, that does not mean Moshe alone. So on “And they struck him,” Rashi says: “Moshe himself killed him.” Why is it written in the plural? Based on everything we have discussed, it should have said, “And he struck him.” Here the Rebbe suggests that, with some difficulty, one could answer that it really should have said “and he struck him”: Moshe alone struck Og, while the Jewish people struck his land and his people. But why was it not written that way? Perhaps, one might answer, to save words. Because if we had to say... if we had to tell the whole story, it would have to say something like: “And he struck Og, king of Bashan; and Moshe struck Og, king of Bashan; and the Children of Israel struck his people.” That would require extra words. One could also explain why it nevertheless says “they struck,” even though Moshe personally struck him, based on something Rashi already explained in this parsha, in verse 21. It says there, “And Israel sent messengers to Sichon,” saying, “Let me pass through your land. We will not turn into field or vineyard,” and so on. Rashi asks there: Why does it say “And Israel sent”? Elsewhere it says, “And Moshe sent”

18:28 messengers. Rashi says: It is the same thing. Moshe is Israel, and Israel is Moshe. You can refer to the entire people in the singular by the name of their leader, and you can refer to the leader by the name of the entire people. If so, it is not difficult that the verse says “And they struck him.” Israel is Moshe. The Rebbe says: It is not the same thing. That example is not comparable. Why? There, where it says, “And Israel sent messengers to Sichon, king of the Amorites,” who actually sent them? Moshe sent them. It was not the people who sent them; it was their leader. So why does it say “And Israel sent”? The Rebbe explains: There it makes sense to write it that way. Why? Because what was the message? He promised Sichon: “We will not turn into field or vineyard; we will not drink water from a well,” and so on. That was not a personal promise that Moshe would not turn into a field or vineyard. He had to make the promise on behalf of the entire Jewish people. In other words, the message he sent Sichon was explicitly in the name of all the Jewish people: they were all promising not to turn into the fields... Ah, so there it is fitting to say “And Israel sent,” even though Moshe himself sent the messengers. But, says the Rebbe, that is not comparable to our case. Here we are talking about—according to Rashi—an act Moshe carried out on his own, a targeted strike against Og. It is therefore unlikely that the Torah would describe Moshe’s personal act as “And they struck him.” That would not match the facts. So what did we suggest earlier? Perhaps it was to save words: instead of writing, “And Moshe struck him, and Israel struck his sons,” it used fewer words. We cannot say that. Why? The Rebbe analyzes this in an interesting way. Why, in the first place, was Moshe afraid of Og? Og had the merit of what he did for Avraham. The Rebbe says: The Jewish people have the merit of being Avraham’s children, and Moshe Rabbeinu did not look at the Jewish people as unworthy or undeserving people.

21:06 He saw them as—especially since we learned in this parsha, “And the entire congregation came”: all of them were whole. All those of the generation of the wilderness had already passed away, and these were all righteous and whole. So could their merit not outweigh the merit of the one act Og had done for Avraham? Yet we see something truly astonishing: despite all the virtues of the Jewish people, all their righteousness, and their lineage as Avraham’s children, Og’s merit was strong enough that Moshe feared the Jewish people’s merit might not help. Ah, the explanation is simple. Even if Og’s merit protected him, that would not mean the death of the Jewish people. They would go around his land; the only loss would be time and distance. So his merit could protect him without detracting from the merit of the Jewish people. Then Hakadosh Boruch Hu came and assured Moshe that even if the Jewish people’s merit was not enough to conquer Og, and they might have to go around him, Moshe’s personal merit would be enough. “Do not be afraid of him,” Hakadosh Boruch Hu says, despite his merit from Avraham, “for I have given him into your own hand.” So not only did Moshe carry out this act personally; its success was due solely to Moshe’s personal merit. The merit of the Jewish people was still not enough. The proof is that Moshe remained afraid until he was assured: your merit, Moshe, will overcome the merit Og had from what he did for Avraham. If it was so entirely Moshe’s own act, it is unlikely that the Torah would say “And they struck him,” as though he were being included with all the Jewish people, with the entire fighting force. To resolve this question of why “they struck” is in the plural, Rashi brings support from Tractate Berachos. By the way, speaking of Moshe’s personal merit prevailing—Hashem’s assurance that his personal merit was stronger than Og’s—

23:51 it reminds me of an amazing story about the Frierdiker Rebbe, whose Geulah is celebrated on 12 Tammuz. His father, the Rebbe Rashab—the Frierdiker Rebbe had served as his father’s secretary from the age of fifteen—once sent him on a mission. There were decrees being prepared by one of the Maskilim, a man called Kraps. He had gathered material to show the government that the things studied in the Torah were outright anti-democratic, against the entire state and so forth, and that Torah study had to be eliminated. He had prepared it all and done research on it. The Rebbe Rashab sent his only son, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, to try to find connections and ways in Petersburg to have the decree rescinded. He did not succeed. When he saw that he was getting nowhere, he had no choice but to return to Lubavitch. He arrived in Lubavitch in the morning. His father was standing with his tallis over his shoulders, and he said to him, “Tatte, I tried with all my strength, but I did not succeed.” His father then told him of a similar episode involving the Mitteler Rebbe: the Alter Rebbe had sent him on a mission, and he had returned saying he had not succeeded. The Alter Rebbe was standing with his tallis over his shoulders. He told the Mitteler Rebbe, “Take my tzitzis and kiss them,” and afterward the Mitteler Rebbe succeeded. As soon as the Frierdiker Rebbe heard this, he understood the hint. He took hold of the Rebbe Rashab’s tzitzis, kissed them and set out again. He reached Petersburg and investigated where Kraps lived. Then he went up to his home. What courage! A young man under twenty. He went up to his home and introduced himself as the son of the Rebbe Rashab. The Rebbe Rashab was known in Russia; he was the one they were fighting against. So Kraps treated him with great respect and received him. Without any embarrassment, he told him that he was going to bring about a decree, that he had done extensive research, and that he

26:38 He was going to submit it. So the Frierdiker Rebbe said, “Interesting. What’s your research about? Could I see it?” “Certainly,” he said. He felt confident: he was at home, on his own turf. He took out a neatly prepared booklet containing all his research. The Frierdiker Rebbe leafed through it, looked over the research, and suddenly grabbed the entire booklet and tore it to shreds before his eyes. The man started shouting and fled. He had to submit it within a few days, and there was no way he could reconstruct the whole thing in time. The decree was canceled. That was a targeted intervention by Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, through his own merit and his father’s merit. But it was not yet on behalf of all the Jewish people. It was a particular decree. Now, the Rebbe cites Rashi’s explanation from Tractate Berachos of why this action by Moshe alone is described as “and they struck him,” as an action of all Israel. After all, Moshe did it personally. What does the story say? Og uprooted a mountain three parsas across. Why specifically that size? The Gemara says the Israelite camp in the wilderness was three parsas across. He uprooted a mountain that size because his plan, being such a giant, was to bring it down on them, flatten them all at once, and destroy the entire Jewish people. That was his intention. He was not merely waging war or trying to delay their entry into their land. With his tremendous strength and enormous size, he had decided to destroy them. But with that act, he lost the merit he had through Avraham. He did have that merit. Had he not done this, Moshe would have needed to defeat him through his own merit. But now, the Rebbe says, the merit protecting the very existence of Avraham’s descendants was stronger than Og’s merit against being defeated. So if he had not

29:17 uprooted the mountain, Avraham’s merit would have protected him from defeat. They would have had to go around him. Yes, but what would that have meant? The loss would not have been so terrible: more time, a longer journey before reaching the Land. But the moment he planned to destroy them completely, he lost Avraham’s merit altogether. Now all the verses make sense, the Rebbe explains. At first, before Og uprooted the mountain, only Moshe was afraid of him. Why only Moshe? The people said, “We’ve seen miracles like these. Everything will be fine. We’re not frightened by an oversized non-Jew.” But Moshe saw that Og had Avraham’s merit. That is why the verse needed to tell us that Hakadosh Boruch Hu said to Moshe, “Do not fear him.” True, the people’s merit was not enough to overcome Og’s merit, but “I have delivered him into your hand”—into your hand, Moshe, through your own merit. Had Og not uprooted the mountain, the verse really would have said, “And he struck him”: Moshe Rabbeinu’s personal action, a targeted intervention of his own. But once Og planned to destroy all the Jewish people, the fact of who killed him did not change. Moshe did, personally. So how can the verse say, “And they struck him”? Because now Moshe’s action was not merely his own. He was acting on behalf of all Israel, whom Og had come to destroy. Killing him was no longer just a way to defeat him so they could pass through his land; it was the rescue of the Jewish people. So even though the leader acted alone, it is fitting to say that all Israel “struck him,” because he acted on behalf of them all. Now, the Rebbe says, we can also understand why Rashi specifies the chapter HaRo’eh. He could have simply said “Tractate Berachos”; we would have found it. By specifying the chapter, he shows that Moshe’s personal defeat of the giant Og was not merely an act of strength that saved Moshe himself in this duel, this clash of titans. It saved all Israel.

31:56 How do we know? That is why Rashi brings the story. What is the chapter HaRo’eh about? The whole chapter begins with the rule that “one who sees a place where miracles were performed for Israel must recite a blessing.” Does this apply only to an individual miracle, or also to a miracle for the community? The Gemara says everyone agrees that a blessing is required for a miracle performed for the many. For an individual miracle, the individual must recite a blessing. Then it says: “The Sages taught: One who sees the crossings of the sea, the crossings of the Jordan,” and so on, “and the stone that Og, king of Bashan, sought to throw upon Israel.” That is among the miracles performed for all Israel—a miracle for the many. So although Moshe struck Og, he did it on behalf of all Israel, whom he came to save. It is therefore fitting to say, “And they struck him,” just as the verse says, “And Israel sent messengers,” because they were sent on behalf of all Israel. The story we told earlier about the Frierdiker Rebbe in his youth really was a personal, targeted intervention, through the personal merit of the tzaddik’s son, who was himself a tzaddik. But later, on 12 Tammuz, in the Frierdiker Rebbe’s clash with the Soviet giant, they wanted to uproot more than Torah study. They would not allow chadarim or mikvaos; they arrested Jews and sent them to Siberia. All the Jewish people were in danger, both physically and spiritually. So who carried out the work there? The Rebbe personally. He was imprisoned, he argued with the interrogators, he stood firm with mesirus nefesh, and he endured the suffering. But although the Frierdiker Rebbe himself dealt the blow to that regime, he did so on behalf of all Israel. That is why the Frierdiker Rebbe says in his letter that 12 Tammuz is a festival for “all who are called by the name Israel,” and the entire Jewish people should rejoice

34:46 over the Geulah of 12 Tammuz, which began on Gimmel Tammuz, the day of “Sun, stand still in Givon, and moon, in the Valley of Ayalon.” And with Hashem’s help, this very year we will see how all these struggles of the Frierdiker Rebbe and of our Rebbe in the seventh generation bring the true and complete Geulah to all the Jewish people, even before Gimmel Tammuz. Good Shabbos.