The Torah parsha of Achrei Mot sets out the laws of Yom Kippur for the first time. Somewhat surprisingly, the detailed description of the High Priest’s service on Yom Kippur is introduced as following Nadav and Avihu’s deaths: “And God spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron, when they approached God and they died.”[1] Parshat Shemini discusses how Nadav and Avihu died when they brought an offering of incense into the Holy of Holies on the day the Tabernacle was inaugurated without being commanded to do so. The Torah tells the story in just three verses:
The sons of Aaron, Nadav and Avihu, each took his fire pan. They put fire in them and placed incense upon it, and they brought it before God, a strange fire that He had not commanded them. A fire came forth from before God and consumed them, and they died before God. Moses said to Aaron: “Of this did God speak, saying: ‘I will be sanctified before those who are nearest Me; thus, I will be honored before the entire people.’ And Aaron was silent.”[2]
Various commentaries discuss some of Nadav and Avihu’s possible wrongdoings and posited a few reasons why they may have taken the step they did. According to some they had drunk wine and, hence, were inebriated at the time of the offering. According to others, their sin lay with not requesting Moses’ permission to perform this offering, and their general lack of respect for their father and Moses. Others, noting that neither one was married as should have been the case at their ages, attributed their bachelorhood to their innate arrogance, which may have made them feel that no woman was good enough for them or their disdain for mundane life altogether.
The Connection with Yom Kippur
The connection between the deaths of Nadav and Avihu and Yom Kippur provides us with a fresh and vital clue for understanding their story, for it turns out that Nadav and Avihu, even before the laws of Yom Kippur had been given, did precisely what the High Priest would be commanded to do during one of the most climactic moments on this most holy of days: bring incense on a fire pan into the Holy of Holies.[3] Therefore, even though they obviously did something wrong, there actions must have also had tremendous import and meaning. In fact, this may have been alluded to by Moses’ cryptic words to Aaron after his sons died: “Moses said to Aaron: ‘Of this did God speak, saying: “I will be sanctified before those who are nearest Me, thus I will be honored before the entire people.”’ Rashi comments that Moses comforted his brother Aaron by telling him that he knew through prophecy that God’s glory would be sanctified by someone on the day the Tabernacle was dedicated. Moses thought it would be Aaron or himself, yet now he understood that Nadav and Avihu were greater than either of them.
Run and Return
To understand why Nadav and Avihu’s actions were so problematic we need to examine the concept called ratzo v’shov, “run and return.” In this dynamic, the soul on the one hand, “runs,” seeking to reunite with God and its Divine source, while, on the other hand, it ultimately must “return” to the earthly realm to fulfill its purpose in this world. Both tendencies need to be carefully nurtured and balanced. Most people either actively squelch the fire in their souls or passively find the fire put out by the ongoing challenges of daily life. Subsequently, they often become too wrapped up in the “return,” the world’s materialism, forgetting their souls’ innate tendency to run Above. Though less common, some people are overly connected to the spiritual realms or the thrill of the “run,” and thus they lack the ability to function well on a day-to-day basis.
Nadav and Avihu when they entered the sanctuary with a fire pan and incense were “on fire,” eager to draw closer to God, but lacking the firm commitment to “return,” and in fact their souls were consumed in the process. This is why their actions in the Torah are not outwardly lauded. Nonetheless, the High Priest on Yom Kippur entered the Holy of Holies with fire pan and incense as had Nadav and Avihu, so this action must have some spiritual merit we can learn from.[4] What might this be? To answer briefly: ego nullification. The nullification of ego, facilitated in the case of Yom Kippur by the prohibitions, prayers and customs of the day – and in Nadav and Avihu’s case by the fire in their souls—is crucial to spiritual experience.
Although we bow our knees many times each day during daily prayers, the only times we fully prostrate ourselves, lowering ourselves to our knees and touching our faces to the ground, are during the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur Musaf Services. On these days we are provided with a unique opportunity to permit our souls to “run” towards God without fear of their not “returning.” On these holy days, we learn that a moment of true ego nullification is critical in educating our souls to their true relationship with God. Paradoxically, it is the truly humble who have largely nullified their egos who have the greatest power to act in this world in a holy and effective way. Moses is the prime example of an individual who reached the pinnacle of both humble service of God and forceful leadership[5].
The Four Who Entered the Pardes
The story of Nadav and Avihu has a deep connection to one of the most famous and enigmatic stories in the Talmud: Arba’ah Shenichnesu LaPardes, “Four who entered the Orchard.”[6] The word Pardes, “Orchard,” is a code word for a very high level of mystical meditation and spiritual ascent. Many explain that the word “paradise” in English ultimately derives from this very term as they sound very similar. In this story, four of the greatest sages of the era reached a state of consciousness so exalted that it was described as entering the “Orchard,” a metaphor for entering the inner dimensions of the heavenly realms.
What happened when these four great sages entered the Orchard? Ben Azzai gazed and died. His soul, overwhelmed by the sublime radiance of the Divine, could not remain tethered to his body. The experience is likened to that of Nadav and Avihu, the sons of Aaron, who brought a “strange fire” on the day the Tabernacle was inaugurated and whose souls were drawn upward in an ecstatic cleaving to God. Their longing for Divine intimacy was so great that it pulled them beyond the bounds of life itself. For while the soul’s yearning is holy, the true task of life is not to escape this world, but to sanctify it—to bring God’s presence into life, in this world.
Ben Zoma “gazed” and was struck or injured. His mind was damaged by the overwhelming intensity of what he encountered. The sages compare this to one who finds honey and cannot stop eating. The sweetness is so great that it overwhelms the body, leaving sickness instead of nourishment. So too, Ben Zoma could not draw back, could not limit his gaze. He became intoxicated with the light of the vision until his mind became unbalanced.
Then came Elisha ben Avuyah, who later became known as Acher, the “other one.” The Talmud says that he “cut the shoots.” Standing in the Orchard, he severed the roots of his faith. Acher did not die, nor lose his mind, but he fell in a deeper way: he became a heretic. Once a towering sage, his encounter shook him so profoundly that he abandoned the path of Torah altogether.
And what of Rabbi Akiva, the leader of the group? The Talmud concludes simply that he “entered and exited in peace.” It is explained in Chassidut that in relation to the dynamic of “run and return,” as discussed previously, only Rabbi Akiva was focused on the return even before the run of the mystical experience. The other three were not as grounded, therefore, they were overly focused on the “run,” the “high,” and subsequently each in their own way never fully returned. Rabbi Akiva understood from the outset that every “run” is only meaningful or productive if it can be integrated and applied in the world of practicality.[7]
Returning to the Holy of Holies
Nadav and Avihu’s example is particularly important to us in a contemporary context, for we have no Temple, no High Priest, and no Temple service; each person in a sense has become the High Priest. On Yom Kippur, this means that each person enters the Holy of Holies, a place corresponding to the innermost point of heart and soul. In this deeply private place, we enter the inner sanctuary and encounter God. We need to both embrace aspects of Nadav and Avihu’s service and simultaneously commit ourselves to harnessing these moments of intense spiritual elevation in the service of rectifying the physical world. If we do so, Nadav and Avihu’s example will be both uplifted and rectified.
[1]. Leviticus 16:1.
[2]. Ibid 10:1-3.
[3]. Ibid 16: 12-13.
[4]. Mayan Ganim, parshat Acharei Mot.
[5]. Numbers 12:3.
[6]. Chagigah 14b.
[7]. For the connection between Nadav and Avihu and the Four Who Entered the Orchard see Yayin Yitzchak, parshat Shemini.
