The root of the Hebrew word “chukat,” the name of the portion that describes the ritual of the Parah Adumah, is chok, a law that seems to ignore or defy human reason. In fact, as the Rabbis note, the opening phrase, “This is the decree (chok) of the Torah” (Numbers 19:2), implies that the laws of the red heifer and the enigmatic and paradoxical ritual through which its ashes purify one from the impurity of death are the quintessential examples of all the commandments that go beyond normative reason. Paradoxically, the laws pertaining to this ritual render impure those who are pure and purify those who are impure, as those who prepare the ashes of the red heifer and the other components needed for purifying the impure become impure in the process. How does the same set of elements purify and defile simultaneously? According to tradition, even Solomon, the wisest of men, was unable to resolve this paradox. Another surprising element in this mitzvah was that it was actually performed outside the Tabernacle or Temple.
Some commentators have reasoned that since a chok by definition defies human reason, there is no need to delve into its rational. Human beings must simply “listen and obey.” Other commentators felt that although the true and ultimate reasons for a chok may evade our comprehension, many lessons and insights can and should be gleaned from what we can understand. Thus, it is well worth our efforts to probe such matters more deeply.
This mitzvah can be approached from many angles, each one yielding valuable insights. In this section, we will focus on only one of these: the lesson this ritual’s paradoxical nature can teach us about the concept of process and achievement. The Ba’al Shem Tov taught that if you want to pull someone out of a muddy ditch, you must sometimes be willing to get dirty, by descending into the ditch to lend him a hand. Sometimes other means may work but ultimately one must be willing to get dirty in order to accomplish the task at hand.
This principle can be applied to many situations in life. Very little in life is handed to us on a silver platter; in order to achieve our goals we must be willing to role up our sleeves and work hard, suffering many less than ideal situations along the way. Rarely does one complete a degree, perfect an art, master a technique, succeed in a profession, or amass wealth without tremendous effort, much of which is not immediately rewarding. Thus, the modern catchphrase “No pain – no gain” or the much more ancient Jewish teaching, “the reward is commensurate with the suffering” (Pirkei Avot 5:26).
When applied to the laws of the red heifer, this principle sheds some light on the matter. Those who work hard to prepare the red heifer’s ashes, which will purify others, become impure in the process, but since the goal is purifying others, the temporary impurity is a small price to pay. If giving to others was always so easy and the results were always so immediately apparent and gratifying then everyone would constantly sacrifice for others. The truth is that oftentimes giving is difficult and entails much self-sacrifice and not everyone is willing to act so altruistically.
A beautiful insight into how this principle works in terms of life and death and Torah study can also be learned from this passage. The Rabbis derive this insight homiletically from the juxtaposition of the laws of the red heifer and the next passage dealing with the legal ramifications of a person dieing in a tent. Although, on a literal peshat level, the latter passage seems to deal with the subsequent ritual purity of the tent and the articles within it, on a derash level, the Talmud explains that the tent in the verse is the “tents of Torah,” based on the fact that the Torah states elsewhere that “Jacob was a sincere man, a dweller in tents” (Genesis 25:27). Since the Sages understood the tents that Jacob dwelled in to be the “tents of Torah” (that is, the study hall or metaphorically, the Torah way of life), they inferred that the tent in our portion refers to the tents of Torah as well. Therefore, they came to the conclusion that the passage about a person dieing in a tent comes to teach us that one can only achieve proficiency in one’s Torah studies by “killing one’s self for them,” that is to say, either by studying very hard or by “killing” – sublimating – one’s ego (Berachot 43b). Paradoxically, the Torah, which we are called upon to “kill” ourselves for, is referred to in the Amidah, the essential prayer recited three times daily, as a Torah of life! This, in a sense, confirms the well-known idiom that life is only worth living when we have something worth dying for.
