Tag Archives: Betzalel

One, Two, or Three Calebs? In Search of the Primordial Torah

‘The Spies With The Grapes Of The Promised Land’ by Nicolas Poussin (1664)

This week’s parasha, Shlach, is famous for the incident of the spies. The Israelites send a representative from each of the Twelve Tribes to scout the Holy Land. Of the twelve spies, ten return with negative reports, faithlessly arguing that the nation will be unable to settle the Holy Land. Only two spies, Joshua from the tribe of Ephraim and Caleb (or Kalev) from the tribe of Judah, present positive reports. This is one reason why, in the future, it will be the tribes of Judah and Ephraim in particular that dominate the land of Israel, each becoming synonymous with its own kingdom—Judah in the south and Ephraim in the north. While the identity of Joshua is relatively clear, the identity of Caleb is quite murky.

The Torah actually speaks of two Calebs. The first is introduced in this week’s parasha: “For the tribe of Judah, Caleb the son of Yefuneh.” (Numbers 13:6) The second, Caleb the son of Hetzron, appears later in I Chronicles 2:18. The genealogy of the latter Caleb is made explicitly clear: he is a son of Hetzron, the son of Peretz, the son of Judah (through Tamar). The genealogy of the first Caleb, though, is not clear at all. For one, we do not see anyone named Yefuneh from the tribe of Judah. (We do see a person named Yefuneh in I Chronicles 7:38, among a list of descendants of Asher.)

Later, in Numbers 32:12, Caleb is called “Caleb ben Yefuneh HaKenizi [the Kenizzite].” This is how he is referred to several more times in the Tanakh. At first glance, the title is problematic, since the Kenizzites were one of the peoples living in Canaan (or Edom) before Abraham arrived, as we read in Genesis 15:18-21. Caleb is not a Kenizzite in this sense, but rather a descendent of a person named Kenaz. Indeed, we read of Kenaz from the tribe of Judah in I Chronicles 4:13. How Kenaz is descended from Judah is not exactly evident. Kenaz had two sons: Othniel and Seraiah. Yet, we read in the book of Judges (1:13) that Othniel is a brother of Caleb! Two verses later in Chronicles, the text suddenly speaks of “Caleb ben Yefuneh”. Rashi is troubled by this, too, and cites the Talmud (Temurah 16a):

But was Caleb the son of Kenaz? Was he not the son of Yefuneh? The meaning of the word Yefuneh is that he turned [panah] from the counsel of the spies. Still, was [Caleb] the son of Kenaz? Was he not the son of Hetzron, as it says: And Caleb the son of Hetzron begat Azubah? (I Chronicles 2:18) Said Raba: [Caleb] was a stepson of Kenaz. [This can also be proved, since it says: Caleb the son of Yefuneh the Kenezzite, but does not say the son of Kenaz.] A Tanna taught: Othniel is the same as Yabetz. He was called “Othniel” because God answered him [‘ana El], and “Yabetz” because he counselled [ya’atz] and fostered Torah in Israel.

‘Othniel’ by James Tissot. Othniel was the first Judge of Israel following Joshua.

So, either Caleb was really the son of a person named Yefuneh, but was adopted and raised by Kenaz (hence his title of Kenizzite), or there was no such person as Yefuneh at all (since we see no mention of such a Judahite) and this title was given to him because he “turned away” from the other spies. In that case, Caleb would be the biological son of Kenaz. Perhaps we can identify him with Seraiah, which would fit neatly with the statement that Othniel and Caleb are brothers.

The final possibility presented by the Talmud is that Caleb is the same as that other Caleb, ben Hetzron, of I Chronicles 2:18. There, we read that Caleb married a woman named Azuvah, and when she died, took a new wife called Efrat. Caleb’s son with Efrat was Hur, whose son was Uri, whose son was the famous Betzalel, craftsman of the Mishkan.

Where it takes an interesting turn is that our Sages say (see for example Shemot Rabbah 1:17 and Sotah 12a) that Azuvah and Efrat are one and the same person. In fact, “Azuvah” and “Efrat” were two nicknames for Miriam, the sister of Moses! She was initially called Azuvah (“abandoned”) since no one wanted to marry her, perhaps because she wasn’t physically attractive. Caleb decided to marry her not for her exterior beauty, but for her holiness and her great family. As soon as he married her, she miraculously became exceedingly beautiful. Thus, people ceased to call her Azuvah, and instead called her Efrat (“beautiful”).

One or Two Calebs?

Can Caleb ben Yefuneh really be the same person as Caleb ben Hetzron? Did Moses appoint his brother-in-law as one of the spies? The possibility is intriguing. Yet, taking this approach results in multiple issues. The first is chronology.

Caleb ben Hetzron was the fifth generation from Jacob (Jacob-Judah-Peretz-Hetzron-Caleb), like Moses and Miriam (Jacob-Levi-Kohath-Amram-Miriam/Moses). It is therefore very apt that he would be Miriam’s husband. That would make him at least 80 years old at the time of the Exodus (just as Moses was 80 and Miriam was 86). Keep in mind that Betzalel is a great-grandson of Caleb ben Hetzron. At the time of the Exodus then, this Caleb would have had to be old enough to sire three more adult generations after him.

‘Caleb before Joshua’

As we saw above, the spy Caleb lived far longer into the future, well into the period of Judges. If he was Caleb ben Hetzron, it would make his lifespan impossibly long (at least for that time period). Caleb ben Yefunah, on the other hand, is listed in Chronicles among much later descendants of Judah, which would make him a young man when sent as a spy. Joshua 14:7 confirms this, with Caleb stating that he was forty years old when Moses sent him to spy out the land. This would easily allow him to live throughout the forty years in the Wilderness and the many years of conquest that followed into the period of Judges.

Maintaining that these were two different Calebs also solves the difficulty of the two different genealogies in Chronicles. In I Chronicles 2, Caleb ben Hetzron fathers Yesher, Shovav, Ardon, and Hur. In I Chronicles 4, Caleb ben Yefuneh fathers Iru, Elah, and Na’am. These are clearly two separate people. And so, of the various Talmudic opinions presented, the correct one must be that the spy Caleb was really the son (or stepson) of Kenaz. It may be best to identify Caleb with Seraiah, one of the two sons of Kenaz. It is possible that just as Yabetz was called Othniel because “God answered him”, Caleb was called Seraiah because he was seen as a righteous emissary or “prince of God” (שר-יה, sar-Yah).

Despite all this, Rashi, following Sanhedrin 69a, still wants to maintain that there is only one Caleb. The result is an absolutely bizarre, legally problematic, morally disturbing—and biologically impossible—explanation that Caleb had his first child when he was eight years old, and each generation on had their first child before eight years! (See his commentary on I Chronicles 2:20.) The reason Rashi resorts to this conclusion is because of a troubling verse suggesting that, in fact, there is a third Caleb.

A Third Caleb?

In I Chronicles, we read how Hetzron later took another concubine, and had more children with her. The firstborn was named Jerahmeel, and then we are told that “…the sons of Caleb, the brother of Jerahmeel, were Mesha, his firstborn, and the father of Zif…” (I Chronicles 2:42) Here we apparently have another Caleb altogether, with a different set of progeny. It is very possible that Hetzron had two children named Caleb. This may be what I Chronicles 2:24 means when it mysteriously mentions Kalev Efrata, ie. it is referring to that Caleb whose wife was Efrat, and not the Caleb whose concubines were Eifa and Maacah (I Chronicles 2:45, 48).

The big problem is that we then read how this third Caleb, apparently, was the father of Hur and Achsah (v. 49-50). That means he was the Caleb ben Hetzron who fathered Hur, as well as the Caleb ben Yefuneh whose daughter was Achsah and whose brother was Othniel! (Judges 1:12-13) It makes no sense! It is probably because of these troubling verses that Rashi and Sanhedrin 69a want to insist there is just one Caleb after all.

Of course, the simplest (but most unpalatable) conclusion is that these couple of verses in Chronicles are just plain wrong. Perhaps some kind of scribal error crept in over the millennia. A scribe who didn’t know how to reconcile the three Calebs tried to unify them, and in so doing opened up a whole new set of issues. Although today we are generally quick to defend all Scripture as being immaculate, with a perfect transmission from generation to generation ever since Sinai, our Sages of old were not so adamant about the text’s exact accuracy.

One example is the case of Chapter 21 of the Book of Joshua. In some versions, there are two extra verses that don’t appear in other versions. The Radak (Rabbi David Kimchi, 1160-1235) writes in his commentary on Joshua 21:7 about these two verses that “I have not seen these two verses included in any ancient and authentic manuscript, rather they have been added to a small number of texts.” A lesser example is Isaiah 27:3 where our current text has pen yifkod, while Rashi comments that his text has pen efkod. Rashi’s disciple, the Mahari Kara (Rabbi Yosef Kara, 1065-1135), notes in his commentary that Sephardis and Ashkenazis have different versions of the word, and “only God knows which is the proper version.”

Even the Chumash isn’t safe. Today, the Yemenite Torah has nine one-letter differences compared to the Ashkenazi Torah. The research of J.S. Penkower shows that the Yemenite Torah is essentially the exact same one used by the Rambam, and the only one considered by him to be the authoritative text. (For a detailed analysis, see Marc B. Shapiro’s The Limits of Orthodox Theology, ch. 7.) Meanwhile, Rav Amnon Bazak of Yeshivat Har Etzion notes that there are some 100 minor variants today between the different Torah texts across the Jewish world. In his essay “Fundamental Issues in the Study of Tanakh, he also cites J.S. Penkower, who found some 65 differences between Rashi’s Torah text and today’s Torah text. For example, Exodus 20:5 in Rashi’s text has the word notzer in place of the current oseh, and Rashi’s Exodus 24:17 has kol Israel in place of the current bnei Israel.

These issues go way back in time. The Midrash (Tanchuma on Beshalach 16) admits that even the Knesset HaGedolah, the “Great Assembly” of the 5th and 4th centuries BCE, had to make modifications to the Torah. Another Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 6:5) provides an example, saying how the ancient scribes added a verse to Genesis (18:22) so that people wouldn’t confuse the angels that visited Abraham with God Himself. A third Midrash (Beresheet Rabbati, 209-212) speaks of a variant “Severus scroll” that “came out of Jerusalem in captivity and went to Rome and was stored in the synagogue of Severus”. The Talmud (Yerushalmi, Ta’anit 4:2), too, provides an account of how three slightly different Torahs were once found in the Temple, so the Sages produced a new text by comparing the previous three and seeing where they agree with each other. The Radak explains in his introduction to the Nevi’im that

…during the First Exile, the texts were lost, the scholars were dispersed, and the Torah sages died. The men of the Great Assembly who restored the Torah to its former state found differences in the texts and followed the reading of those which they believed to be in the majority…

Chatam Sofer

All of this has practical, halachic ramifications. For example, the Sha’agat Aryeh (Rabbi Aryeh Leib Gunzberg, 1695-1785) states in his work of that name (siman 36) that there is no longer a mitzvah to write a Torah scroll, since we are unsure of the exact text. The Chatam Sofer (Rabbi Moshe Schreiber, 1762-1839) adds that this is why we do not say a blessing before writing a new Torah scroll (see his She’elot v’Teshuvot on Orach Chaim, siman 52 and 54) while the Rama (Rabbi Moshe Isserles, 1530-1572) holds for this reason that we do not need to take out another Torah scroll if we suddenly discover that the one we are publicly reading from is defective (see his comments on Orach Chaim 143:4).

It is important to stress, of course, that the variations are slight. We are not talking about major differences spanning whole passages. The vast majority of the variances are only in singular letters which do not even change the meaning of the word or verse. Occasionally, there is a substitution of a word (again, not necessarily changing the meaning of the verse), and in only a few places there is an extra or missing verse or two. The overall integrity of the text is undoubtedly preserved. One should not at all lose faith in the Torah’s authenticity, or its message.

Having said that, all of the deeper mystical sources speak of a “primordial Torah”, a perfect Torah, or the original Torah of Creation whose return we await. The Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni, Isaiah 429) states that Mashiach will bring a “new Torah” and (Kohelet Rabbah 11:12) that our current Torah will be “vain” compared to the new one. The Zohar attests to the same, and Rabbi Isaac of Radavil (1750-1835) comments in his Ohr Yitzchak (on Pekudei):

Regarding that which is stated in the Zohar Hadash that in the future God will give us a new Torah in the days of the redeemer, may he come speedily and in our days, it is not the Torah which is currently in our possession, and also not the Torah which was given on Mt. Sinai. Not this shall God give us, but a new Torah which was in existence two thousand years before the creation of the world. The Torah which God will give us in the future is hidden in the Torah currently in our possession…

A classic example of the Torah written in “black fire on white fire”: Within the “black fire” letter Pei, we see an inner “white fire” letter Beit.

Deeply encrypted within our current Torah is that original Torah. And so, one who digs deep enough will discover a perfect Torah within today’s seemingly imperfect one—as the Mishnah says: “Turn it over and turn it over, for everything is within it.” This may be tied to the classic idea that the Torah is “black fire on white fire”. Gershom Scholem (Kabbalah, pg. 174) cites a number of mystical texts which say that the Torah of White Fire is the authentic, primordial Torah, while the Torah of Black Fire is only its outward expression, or perhaps a “commentary” on the White Fire. Here we read how the primordial Torah was beheld by Adam in the Garden of Eden, but because of his sin, the Torah was jumbled—its letters rearranged, more prohibitions added, and mystical secrets removed. Mashiach will restore the world to a state of Eden, and with that reveal the original Torah of Creation, the Torah of White Fire.

May we merit to see it soon.

The Secret History of the Holy Temple

This week’s parasha is Pinchas and begins with God’s blessing to Pinchas for putting an end to the immorality conducted by the Israelite men with the Midianite women. Following this, the Torah describes another census, then the incident with the five daughters of Tzelafchad, the appointment of Joshua to succeed Moses, and ends with a long list of holidays and the sacrificial offerings to be brought on those days. Elsewhere in the Torah, we read that these sacrifices must be brought only in the one specific place God chooses (Deuteronomy 12:11).

A Modern Mishkan Replica in Timna, Israel

A Modern Mishkan Replica in Timna, Israel

In the Wilderness, and several centuries after, this place was the Mishkan, the “mobile sanctuary”, or tabernacle. Around the first millennium BCE, King Solomon built a permanent sanctuary in Jerusalem which would be known as the First Temple. After the Babylonians destroyed it, a Second Temple was built on the same spot, and was itself destroyed by the Romans around 70 CE. According to tradition, both destructions occurred following the 17th of Tammuz and culminated on the 9th of Av, hence the period of mourning known as the “Three Weeks” which we find ourselves in now. This is the basic history of the Holy Temple that most are familiar with. In reality, the Temple’s history has many more hidden secrets and intriguing ups and downs.

Mishkan, First Temple, and “High Places”

The Talmud (Zevachim 118b) recounts the history of the Mishkan. It was constructed under the leadership of Moses, Betzalel and Aholiab and erected a year after the Exodus. Once in Israel, the Mishkan was in the city of Gilgal for 14 years, during which time the Holy Land was conquered from the Caananites and divided up among the tribes of Israel. Once the conquest was complete, the Mishkan was moved to Shiloh, where it stood for 371 years. Finally, it spent 57 years in the towns of Nov and Gibeon until the Temple was built (480 years after the Exodus, based on I Kings 6:1).

Common Depiction of the Ark of the Covenant

Common Depiction of the Ark of the Covenant

The epicentre of the Mishkan was the Holy of Holies, which contained the Ark of the Covenant. However, towards the end of the period of Judges, the Ark was removed from the Mishkan and taken into battle against the Philistines in the hopes of bringing about a miraculous victory. No victory was had; the Israelites were defeated, suffered the deaths of the sons of Eli the Kohen Gadol, Hofni and Pinchas (not to be confused with the Pinchas of this week’s parasha), and lost the Ark of the Covenant to the Philistines. The Ark and the Mishkan would never reunite again.

King David later brought the Ark back to Jerusalem and placed it in a special tent, while the Mishkan remained in Gibeon. We see that at this point sacrifices were actually brought in both locations – David brought offerings before the Ark in Jerusalem (II Samuel 6:17), while offerings were also brought on the actual altar in Gibeon (I Kings 3:4). In fact, the Tanakh tells us that before the Temple, people brought offerings and sacrifices in various “high places” across the country (I Kings 3:2), and not just the one place “that God chooses”.

It was King Solomon who first attempted to centralize the sacrificial rituals in Jerusalem. Not surprisingly, people continued to offer sacrifices across the country instead of trekking all the way to the Holy City. Following Solomon’s death and the split of the kingdom in two, Jeroboam (king of the northern, “Israelite” kingdom) built two more temples – in the cities of Dan and Beit-El. These two temples quickly turned idolatrous, with Golden Calves being the centre of worship. The Temple in Jerusalem also turned idolatrous shortly after, with worship of Asherah trees being particularly common (I Kings 14:23, II Kings 21:7). The Talmud (Yoma 9b) tells us that it was primarily because of this idolatry that the Temple was destroyed.

While everyone knows how the Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians, it was actually sacked and emptied out long before that. Just five years after Solomon’s death, the people of Judah descended into so much idolatry that God sent the Pharaoh Shishak (or Sheshonq) against them. Shishak took away all of the gold and treasure from the Temple, and King Rehoboam (Solomon’s son) replaced what he could with essentially brass replicas (I Kings 14:25-28). So, the First Temple only lasted with all of its original holy vessels for about 35 years, since it was completed in the 11th year of Solomon’s 40-year reign (I Kings 6:38). For its remaining three and a half centuries, it was only a hollow shell of Solomon’s Temple, with counterfeit vessels, and lengthy periods of rampant idolatry.

Meanwhile, the Ark of the Covenant appears to have been taken by Shishak as well, since it is no longer mentioned in the Tanakh, except for one reference in II Chronicles 35:3, which describes how Josiah purified and rebuilt Solomon’s Temple. The corresponding passage in II Kings 23 does not mention the Ark. Some suggest that Solomon hid the original Ark somewhere in the Temple Mount, knowing that the kingdom would fall apart after his death. Josiah brought the Ark back from this secret location temporarily, before hiding it again so that the Babylonians could not carry it away (Keritot 5b). Some believe the original Ark is still hidden away deep below the Temple Mount.

The Second (Third, Fourth, and Fifth) Temple

Soon after the destruction of the First Temple, the Persians conquered the Babylonians, and Cyrus the Great permitted the Jews to return to Israel and rebuild their temple. When they came (about 50,000 altogether), the Jews met resistance by the Samaritans. These people claimed to be the original Jews that remained behind while the majority of Jews were taken to Babylon (and Assyria before that). The Babylonian Jews claimed that the Samaritans were imposters, foreigners from another land that were settled in Israel by the Assyrians. The Talmud calls them Kutim, from the place in Iraq where they are said to have originated.

The Samaritans had their own temple erected on Mt. Gerizim, which they consider the original holy mountain (as opposed to Mt. Moriah, where the temples stood). The Samaritans resisted the new Jewish arrival, and prevented them from rebuilding the Jerusalem temple for a while. Ultimately, the Second Temple was built, and the Samaritans would slowly be forgotten. A small number still exist today, and hold on to their traditional beliefs. They still claim to be the original Israelites and “Guardians of the Ark”, and insist that Mt. Gerizim is the holy mountain. Archaeological evidence shows that an elaborate temple dedicated to Hashem did exist on Mt. Gerizim as far back as the 5th century BCE. The temple was destroyed around 128 BCE by the Maccabee warrior-king and high priest John Hyrcanus (Yochanan Hurkanus), the son of Simon the Maccabee, and grandson of Matityahu, the original leader of the wars with the Syrian-Greeks, as commemorated during Chanukah.

Elephantine Papyrus asking the governor of Judea for help in rebuilding the Elephantine temple

Elephantine papyrus asking the governor of Judea for help in rebuilding the Elephantine temple

At the same time, two more temples were erected by Jews outside of Israel. In 1967, archaeologists discovered a Jewish temple in Egypt, on the island of Elephantine (modern-day Aswan). In the middle of the first millennium BCE, Elephantine had a large Jewish population. Various papyri have been found there, among them a letter to the governor of Judea to help rebuild the Elephantine temple. It is not certain when this temple was first constructed. After the Kingdom of Judah was destroyed, many Jews fled to Egypt (with the prophet Jeremiah reluctantly joining them) to avoid the Babylonians. It is possible that they built this temple instead of the Jerusalem temple. It is also possible that this temple was built alongside the Second Temple during the early Persian period. The Elephantine temple was gone by the middle of the 4th century.

Some time later, another Jewish temple was built in Egypt, in Leontopolis. We know far more about this temple, since it is mentioned by historical sources like Josephus, and is even mentioned in the Talmud. It was built in the 2nd century BCE by a kohen named Onias (Chonio), the son of Simon the High Priest. The Talmud (Menachot 109b) says this was Shimon HaTzadik, and gives two accounts as to what happened. In one account, Shimon appointed his son Onias to take his place before his death, but his older brother Shimi wrested the high priesthood from him, so Onias fled to Alexandria and built his own temple. This was in fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy: “In that day shall there be an altar to the Lord in the midst of the land of Egypt” (Isaiah 19:19).

Josephus suggests the Leontopolis temple stood for as long as 343 years, and was a centre of sacrifices and offerings. The great Jewish philosopher Philo offered sacrifices there, in addition to the Jerusalem Temple. It appears that in those days it was common to worship God at both temples! Indeed, the Romans were aware of this, and when the Second Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed, Vespasian gave the order to destroy the temple in Leontopolis as well. The order was carried out in 73 CE, putting an end to Jewish sacrificial services.

Since then, Jews have been waiting for a Third (Jerusalem) Temple. However, as we’ve written before, it is highly unlikely that this Temple will offer any sacrifices. Instead, it will be a holy gathering place of unity, peace and prayer; a place for deeper contemplation, meditation, inspiration, and elevation. It will be, as many sources suggest, an eternal edifice that will not have to be built by man at all, but will descend miraculously from Heaven. May we merit to see it soon.

Unmasking the Golden Calf: Who, Why, and How?

'Worship of the Golden Calf' by Filippino Lippi (1457-1504). Accurately depicting an animated calf, as opposed to a simple golden idol.

‘Worship of the Golden Calf’ by Filippino Lippi (1457-1504), accurately depicting an animated calf, as opposed to a simple golden idol.

This week’s parasha is Ki Tisa, which is most famous for its description of the Golden Calf incident. Following the mass revelation at Mt. Sinai, Moses ascended the mountain for forty days and forty nights during which time he communed with God. The Torah tells us that Moses neither ate nor drank throughout this period, and was solely immersed in divinity. The forty days ended with Moses receiving the Two Tablets, with the text of the Ten Commandments engraved upon them. As Moses descends to deliver the Tablets – essentially a contract between God and the Israelites – the people are mired in revelry around a disgraceful idol. Moses shatters the Tablets immediately (others say they were suddenly too heavy for him to hold, and fell out of his hands).

The first question that most people ask is: How was this incident even possible? How does a people who had just forty days earlier witnessed an incredible Godly revelation first-hand now worship a grotesque idol? How does a people who directly heard God’s word go on to break his command prohibiting idol worship less than six weeks later? What were they thinking? Moreover, how is it that Aaron, the very brother of Moses, and the one destined to be the High Priest, was the one who created the Golden Calf?

Why the Calf?

Since Moses’ arrival in Egypt, the Israelites experienced nothing but spiritual ascent. First, they witnessed Moses’ wonder-working directly before them. Then, they lived through ten miraculous plagues, each progressively more astounding. Following these, they were liberated from their slavery, and experienced an even greater salvation and miracle at the Sea. The nation then reached Mt. Sinai and spent several days purifying themselves before being witnesses to the greatest divine revelation in the history of humanity. And right after this, Moses left them to wait. For forty days, they were without their leader, without guidance, without any further spiritual ascent. The people were hungry for more.

Moses had told them that he would be away for forty days. The people eagerly counted each minute and hour until his return. After forty days, Moses was nowhere to be seen. They had, in fact, miscalculated – and only by six hours or so. The nation was becoming restless and fearful. Had Moses perished atop the mountain?

At this point, two individuals saw an opportunity.

Yunus and Yumbrus

The Torah tells us that when the Israelites came out of Egypt, an erev rav, or a “mixed multitude”, came out with them (Exodus 12:38). These were, for the most part, non-Israelites who were convinced by what they had witnessed in Egypt, and decided to join the Jewish people. However, this group of people found it much harder to shed their past idolatrous ways.

Various Jewish texts describe that among the leaders of the erev rav were two brothers named Yunus and Yumbrus. They happened to be the children of the wicked prophet Bilaam (or Balaam). Although Bilaam is not introduced in the Torah until the later Book of Numbers, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 106a) holds that Bilaam was originally an advisor to the Pharaoh in Egypt. As a matter of fact, it was he who came up with the idea of drowning the Israelite children in the Nile! And his own sons were among the mixed multitude that joined the Israelites.

When Moses’ return from Sinai appeared delayed, the two brothers jumped on the opportunity to take control. They told the people that surely Moses must have been dead by now. The Talmud (Shabbat 89a) tells us that Satan started to play on their fears, and showed them a vision of Moses’ corpse ascending to Heaven.

The people then approached Aaron and told him: “Make us gods that will go before us, because this Moses – the man who brought us up from the land of Egypt – we do not know what has become of him.” (Exodus 32:1) The people were looking for nothing more than a replacement for Moses.

Looking for Elohim

The above verse can actually be read in a couple of ways. In English, it is commonly translated as above, with the people asking for Aaron to make them gods. However, the Hebrew states that they told Aaron to make them “Elohim”. Elohim is, of course, one of Hashem’s names, but is also used in the Torah to refer to mighty men, judges, and foreign gods, too. We even saw earlier on that God told Moses to team up with Aaron, and for Moses to be an Elohim for Aaron! (Exodus 4:16) Moses himself was described as an “Elohim”! Therefore, what the people were seeking was not necessarily a foreign idol to worship, but rather a holy and mighty man of Moses’ stature, who was described as an “Elohim”.

And so, the people’s concerns and wishes were actually quite legitimate. Unfortunately, Yunus and Yumbrus played on these concerns, and manipulated the people to their advantage. When Hur, one of the Israelite elders, rose to calm the people and prevent them from making a big mistake, Yunus and Yumbrus made him out to be a traitor and had him killed.

'Victory o Lord!' by John Everett Millais (1871) depicting Aaron and Hur assisting Moses at the Battle of Rephidim against the attacking Amalekites

‘Victory o Lord!’ by John Everett Millais (1871) depicting Aaron and Hur assisting Moses at the Battle of Rephidim against the attacking Amalekites

Hur himself is only mentioned directly once in the Torah, in Exodus 17:12, during the battle between the Israelites and Amalekites. It was Hur and Aaron who stood on either side of Moses and supported him throughout the battle. The Torah later says that his grandson Betzalel was the chief craftsman of the Tabernacle. Jewish tradition suggests Hur was the son of Miriam (and therefore Moses’ and Aaron’s nephew), while other sources (such as Josephus) suggest he was actually Miriam’s husband. Either way, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 7a) tells us he was killed for protesting at the Golden Calf incident.

Seeing that the people were becoming enraged and uncontrollable, Aaron agreed to make some kind of new Elohim for the people. The Talmud says that Aaron wanted to prevent even more bloodshed. He reasoned that idolatry is a lesser sin compared to murder. The former could be absolved through repentance, but the people would never be forgiven for spilling the blood of their fellows. Rashi further comments (on 32:5) that Aaron wanted to take the sin upon himself, and so he volunteered to construct some sort of idol to quell the people’s unrest.

Aaron tried to delay as long as possible, hoping that Moses would arrive shortly. He told the people to bring their wives’ and children’s jewelry. Rashi says that Aaron phrased it this way (as opposed to telling them to bring their own jewelry) because he hoped the women and children would not want to part with their precious jewelry. Nonetheless, the men did not waste time going to their women and children, and brought their own precious metals. (Jewish tradition maintains that the righteous women of Israel did not participate in the sin of the Golden Calf.)

Aaron collected it all, and simply threw it in the flames. But Yunus and Yumbrus, described by Rashi as “the sorcerers of the mixed multitude”, recited incantations that transformed the molten gold into an animated calf! The Golden Calf actually emerged from the flames on its own, and was moving around as if it were an actual deity. This is why Aaron later tells Moses (v. 24) that he simply “threw the gold into the fire, and out came this calf!”

(The Arizal goes into much detail about what Yunus and Yumbrus were trying to accomplish by creating a calf in particular. Without getting into the details, they were essentially attempting to elevate the soul of their wicked grandfather, Beor. It seems these two brothers were also trying to usurp the leadership role of the brothers Moses and Aaron.)

Not surprisingly, many of the people were duped by the magic of Yunus and Yumbrus. Aaron tried to delay them further, proclaiming that the festival will be held the next day (v. 5). Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough, and the people descended into revelry and immoral behaviour.

Meanwhile, God’s meeting with Moses was coming to an end. Unfortunately, it concluded with God telling Moses that the people had fallen once more into sin. God offered Moses a new deal: abandon the sinful Israelites, and start a new nation from Moses and his descendants. But Moses, the great leader that he was, refused to abandon his people. He argued and pleaded with God until God relented.

Ultimately, it took Moses two more stints of forty days and forty nights on Mt. Sinai to draw God’s complete forgiveness. Moses descended from Mt. Sinai for the last time on Yom Kippur, now bearing a new set of Tablets. And henceforth, Yom Kippur had become the eternal Day of Atonement.