פרשת ויקרא
This week’s Parsha opens with the name given to the third book of the Chumash, “Vayikra.” The word Vayikra means to call out, referring to how Hashem called out to Moshe. The Gemorah contrasts this term to the term used when Hashem wanted to call out to Bilam. Chazal teach us that Bilam had the same level of prophecy as Moshe Rabenu in order to prevent the non-Jews from complaining that they were never given a fair chance to properly observe the Torah, and had they been given a prophet like Moshe Rabenu, they certainly would have kept the Torah. In order to prevent this ridiculous claim, Hashem begrudgingly gave the wicked, unworthy Bilam the same level of prophecy that Moshe had. However, there is a different term used to describe Hashem’s calling out to Bilam and that was “Vayikar” – without an Aleph at the end. “Vayikar” has a connotation of happenstance and impurity, implying that when Hashem called out to Bilam, it wasn’t done wholeheartedly, and it was done with great disgust. The Midrash compares this to a king who had a visitor who was a leper. The king couldn’t ignore him, because his visit concerned the affairs of state, yet he refused to allow him into the palace, lest he soil it, so he met this visitor outside his palace. Moshe, on the other hand, received the invitation “Vayikra”, which has a connotation of love and warmth, implying that Hashem’s invitation to speak with Moshe was heartfelt and genuine, and filled with a desire for closeness.
After understanding all this, it is quite puzzling that the Aleph, at the end of the first word in the Book of Vayikra, which is the symbol of Moshe’s distinctive relationship with Hashem, is written in a smaller font! The Baal Haturim explains the background for this little Aleph. When Hashem told Moshe to write the word Vayikra in reference to His summons, Moshe, in his humility, asked Hashem if he could leave out the Aleph so that people wouldn’t think his revelation was any more special than Bilam’s. Hashem responded in the negative, and demanded that Moshe put the Aleph in. So Moshe complied, but with his own little humble twist. He shrunk the Aleph. This risky move was actually commended, teaching us that when it comes to humility, there is almost no limit to how far one can go, to the extent that Moshe even deviated slightly from a direct commandment of Hashem, due to his unfathomable humility.
R’ Shach, however, asks two very interesting questions on this Ba’al Haturim. First, he would like to know why specifically in this verse did Moshe “wake up” and remember to make the Aleph small. It says the word “Vayikra” many times in the Torah. And second, he would like to know how Moshe could have dared to think to leave out the Aleph entirely or to make it smaller? We know that each and every letter in the Torah contains dozens of implications, and links to other parts of the Torah. Furthermore, the Torah is the blueprint for all of creation. How was Moshe not concerned with the fact that leaving out a letter, or even only shrinking it, would destroy parts of the universe? To answer the first question, R’ Shach explains that we see from here how although Moshe was the most humble man ever to live, even he still had room to grow in the area of humility. In other words, at that point in his life, Moshe came to the realization that it would be appropriate to shrink the Aleph, but until then, he hadn’t quite reached that level. How much more so do we have to always be working on this critical attribute and never reach the stage where we feel we are “humble enough!” To answer the second question, R’ Shach explains that we see from Moshe’s actions in what esteem he held humility to the point that he was willing to allow Hashem to figure out a different way to compensate for that missing Aleph in order to impart to the Jewish people the essential lesson of humility. He adds that since the entire point of the Torah is to teach the Jewish people how to act, this lesson was indispensable and would push off any other implications which that Aleph may have had.
R’ Shach goes on to say that, in truth, not only is humility the most vital trait for a Jew to possess, it is actually the foundation and source for all other good attributes. Humility is where every Jew’s work begins. The Ramban adds that aside from being essential, humility actually brings a person to the level in which the Shechina itself can rest upon him. It is no coincidence that Moshe Rabenu was the greatest of the prophets ever to live, and happened to also be the humblest man ever to live. For us, this is a very uplifting message. The humbler we become, the more of a befitting vessel we become to host Hashem’s Shechina.
As we’ve mentioned many times, humility does not mean to deny one’s gifts, but rather to realize the source of those gifts, and pay homage to that source. Specifically by recognizing one’s true gifts, he can reach a stage of true humility, because who amongst us can honestly say that we are fully taking advantage of these gifts. Another technique that one can use is to contemplate the greatness of Hashem, and by contrast, realizing one’s own frailty. This sobering thought will certainly not allow one to become too enamored with his own accomplishments or gifts, and will disallow most haughty thoughts.
R’ Bentzion Aba Shaul adds that it is not enough for one to contemplate the importance of humility, but rather he must take specific action in order to bring himself to that state. For example, one must invest time in making sure that his clothes or actions do not draw too much attention to himself, and, he must avoid entering places in which he knows people will show him extravagant honor. These actions are critical in helping one along on his path to true humility. R’ Yosef Engel of Beitar writes in the name of the Chofetz Chaim, that any honor one receives in this world will automatically detract from his portion in the world to come. This is because in general, we say that one cannot diminish his portion in the world to come because the physical pleasure this universe has to offer is not comparable with the spiritual pleasure in the next world. But honor, which is not physical in nature, can indeed reduce his spiritual portion in the world to come.
Another action that one can take to improve his humility is to emulate R’ Yochanan Ben Zakai. The Gemorah teaches that all his days, nobody preempted R’ Yochanan in a greeting. Even the non-Jews in the marketplace always got a warm “Shalom” from R’ Yochanan before they got a word in, and he never considered greeting the simplest of people “below his dignity.” Certainly, R’ Yochanan was a fairly busy man, and had a lot of students surrounding him, yet he did not allow this to deter him from this holy mission. My father ZT”L was also very careful to greet every Jew he met warmly. After he passed away, we found in his diary that he didn’t consider it enough to simply greet every Jew; he would go out of his way to genuinely care about them, and ask them if there was any way he could help them, and if there wasn’t, he would take upon himself to pray for them with heartfelt empathy until their discomfort would be relieved. When we used to come home from Yeshiva, he would personally make us a warm, delicious meal, standing in the kitchen for some time until we were all full. I once asked one of my Rabbeim if I was allowed to let him humble himself in front of us like that. Wasn’t breeching the laws of honoring one’s parents? My Rebbi explained that whatever a person desires to do, allowing him to fulfill that desire is the greatest honor you can give him, but we can all learn from your father what the word “humility” means, and how one should never think himself above other people.
May we all merit to develop ourselves in this critical trait of humility!