Knowing Our Mission

By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah (www.birca.org)

In Parshas Korach, Moshe Rabbeinu faces a rebellion. He is accused of appropriating leadership positions of Klal Yisrael for his closest relatives. As Rashi explains (16:3), Korach attacks Moshe: Why did you give the role of Kohen Gadol to your brother? Why are you keeping all the important positions for your own family? You weren’t the only one to hear Hashem speak at Sinai. The entire congregation did!

Moshe “gave” the role of Kohen Gadol to Aharon? How could Korach say that? Moshe’s appointment of Aharon as Kohen Gadol was a direct prophecy from Hashem (Vayikra 8:2-5), and Moshe’s prophecy was indisputable. How could Korach deny this and accuse Moshe of power mongering?

Rav Simcha Zissel Broide answers that Korach did not question Moshe’s prophecy. He knew with certainty that Moshe was the true prophet, but Korach believed that Moshe had a personal desire to see his brother as kohen gadol. Therefore, Korach argues: “Moshe, you had a hand in Hashem’s decision. Hashem saw your desire, and due to the principle that ‘Hashem carries out the will of those who fear Him’ (Tehilim 145:19), he did what you wanted and made your brother kohen gadol. This is all your fault. You should never have had a personal desire in the first place!”

Moshe Rabbeinu addresses Korach’s accusation directly: “Hashem sent me to do all of these deeds; this was not from my heart.” I never sought my brother’s advancement over anyone else. I am, and always was, simply Hashem’s emissary — nothing more. No personal interests of my own came into play here, or ever.

Rabbeinu Yona (Shaarei Teshuva 2:21) notes that this is an attitude we all need to develop. We should view ourselves as emissaries to do Hashem’s will. This is our mission in life. “One who has sense of this should make this matter uppermost in his consciousness,” says Rabbeinu Yonah. We must remind ourselves frequently that we are Hashem’s emissaries, and keep ourselves focused on our mission at all times.

Rav Friedlander adds that once a Jew recognizes his mission and lives every moment of his life with the knowledge that he is Hashem’s emissary, he will be empowered with the ability to be moser nefesh for Torah and mitzvos. He will gain the ability to withstand tests and rise above his personal biases, thanks to the knowledge that he is Hashem’s emissary; this is his identity.

For example, if a father is having difficulties with one of his sons, will he turn his back on that son and pretend that they are not related? Of course not! “I’m his father!” Just as the father does not question his identity as a father when troubles arise with his son, so too,  no emissary of Hashem should question his identity when hardships arise in aspects of avodas Hashem. Yehoshua and Kalev were emissaries who understood their role. Whatever the situation, even if outnumbered by great and powerful people going against Hashem’s will, they were ready to carry out whatever was necessary as Hashem’s emissaries.

It may sound hard, says Rav Friedlander, but one who lives every moment of his life as Hashem’s emissary merits a life of exhilaration and happiness. He lives with a purpose, and is ever inspired to reach greater heights in his most lofty role. He lives with a clear identity, and can see the fruits of his endeavors.

A doctor once came to our yeshiva, and he commented that often, he faces situations where sick people are capable of being cured, only they lack a sincere desire to live. Even though they don’t want to die, they don’t feel that they have any purpose in life. If one lives with a sense of purpose, said the doctor, his physical health stands only to gain. My father would often say: “The older a person gets, the more he realizes that the material, physical aspect of this world is not the true purpose. The only real purpose that exists and remains with a person until his final days is serving Hashem.”

As Rosh Yeshiva in Baranovitch, Rav Elchanan Wasserman frequently found it necessary to go elsewhere to raise funds for the yeshiva’s upkeep. After many efforts in Europe with little success, he decided to travel to the United States.

There, he was referred to a wealthy Jew named Philip Goldstein, with whom Rav Wasserman had learned together in cheder as a boy. Mr. Goldstein was now the wealthy owner of a coat factory, but had long since abandoned Judaism, and rarely donated to Torah institutions.

A meeting was arranged, and the two met and shared memories of their childhood, and spoke about what each had been doing since then. After being brought up to date, Rav Wasserman turned to leave. Mr. Goldstein was confused.

“But…didn’t you come here for something?” he asked, alluding to the fact that Rav Wasserman had surely intended to ask for a donation to his yeshiva.

“As a matter of fact, I did come for something. I have a problem. There is a loose button on my coat, and I know that you have a coat factory. Could one of your employees come and tighten up this button,” asked Rav Elchanan, pointing to the loose button.

Confused, Mr. Goldstein summoned an employee by telephone to come to repair Rav Wasserman’s coat. The employee tightened all the buttons.

“Now come on,” said Mr. Goldstein. “You must have come here for something more important than fixing a loose button.”

“No, that really was my reason,” said Rav Wasserman, as he thanked his friend once again and left.

The following day, Mr. Goldstein called Rav Wasserman and asked that he come to him again. Rav Wasserman arrived and found Mr. Goldstein in an agitated state.

“It just doesn’t make sense. No one travels all the way from Europe to America just to fix a loose button. You could have had this done for you right there in Baranovitch. Why did you come to me?”

“I already told you. I really came to you just for the buttons,” replied Rav Wasserman.

“That’s ridiculous! Tell the truth; didn’t you come to ask for a donation to your yeshiva?”

“Let me explain what I meant,” began Rav Wasserman. “You refuse to accept that I would come such a long way just to tighten a few buttons. So I ask you: Why do you think that Hashem sent you from the heavens above all the way down to this world? Just to sew a few buttons? This is the reason why you’re here? All I did was travel a few thousand miles, whereas you came all the way from under Hashem’s throne of glory, and for what? To sew a few buttons?”

Mr. Goldstein got the message. That same day he began keeping mitzvos again. He also began giving generously to Torah institutions, and helped the Baranovitch Yeshiva for many years.

May we be zoche to be Hashem’s emissaries!