Parashas Nasso

At the end of this week’s parashah,  we learn that the nassi of each shevet brought a offering at the inauguration of the Mishkan.

Every day for the first twelve days, one nassi brought a korbon, and the Torah details the individual offering of each nassi. As we read through the descriptions, we quickly note that each of the offerings was identical. Yet the Torah – which is generally sparing with its words to the point that an extra letter can teach us a halachah – repeats each detail 12 times.

A number of the commentators note that although each nassi brought the identical animals and utensils, each one of them arrived at the formulation of his own offering on his own, with calculations and reasons specific to his shevet.

Imagine, however, that you were Avidan ben Gidoni, the nassi of Shevet Binyamin, who brought his korban on the ninth day. You pondered and studied and came up with the composition of your offering, only to realize that it’s the same thing the previous eight nessi’im had brought.

Most of us would go back to the drawing board to recalculate. We’d try to come up with an offering that would not be as spiritually perfect, but would offer unique expression for our shevet. After all, people don’t know our real intentions. If we brought what we initially planned to, they’d never believe we came up with this on our own. Do we need them snickering that we are copycats?

The nesi’im, however, were unfazed. Their heroism, expressed by their commitment to do what was correct, earned them – and their korban – eternal commemoration in the Torah. They have a place in posterity.

The Rema, in the very first paragraph of Shulchan Aruch, adjures: “And a person should not be embarrassed by those who mock him in his service of Hashem.”

Torah and halchah are the blueprints and guidelines for living perfect and fulfilled lives. They are the Owner’s Manuals for our souls. When we comport ourselves accordingly, it is an expression of our commitment to be true to our values.

Emerson famously wrote, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do.”

This parashah teaches us that Emerson was wrong.

Consistency can frequently be a sign of moral fortitude and courage. A brave stand for what is right.

And great souls can often find their fulfillment in consistency, while weaker ones hide behind “creativity” and “expression” to mask their own insecurities and moral bankruptcy.

May we all be zocheh to do what is right, without regard to the opinions of those less committed. Then we, too, will merit to have a place in posterity.

Gut Shabbos.