Parshas Emor 5781
We know Kohanim as that small subset of the Jewish People who receive the first aliyah and duchen on Yom Tov. Every now and again one will conduct a bit of business at a Pidyon HaBen and will oftentimes be honored to lead a zimun. Aside from these and other similarly minor issues, Kohanim are fully integrated into Jewish society at large. They are our best friends and next-door neighbors, and our Shabbos tables and children’s classes are shared with Katzes, Kahns, and Cohens.
But not always.
In the time of the Bais Hamikdash, Kohanim were a class unto themselves. Kohanim lived in special cities, studied special laws, and ate different foods than the rest of the nation. Kohanim served in the Bais HaMikdash, lived according to stricter standards of purity, and would examine possible signs of tzara’as. Jews of other tribes would interact with Kohanim, but not nearly as intimately as we do today.
Kohanim would not hold “regular” jobs, but would function as the nation’s class of educators and scholars even when it was not their turn to serve in the Bais HaMikdash. In presenting the contours that would make up such a demanding lifestyle, one would think that a stern tone and perhaps even some arm twisting would be in order. Yet we find that Hashem makes clear that far from “laying down the law,” Moshe should proceed to instruct the Kohanim as delicately as possible.
וַיֹּאמֶר ה׳ אֶל־מֹשֶׁה אֱמֹר אֶל־הַכֹּהֲנִים בְּנֵי אַהֲרֹן וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם לְנֶפֶשׁ לֹא־יִטַּמָּא בְּעַמָּיו׃
ויקרא כא:א
Hashem said to Moshe, “Speak to the Kohanim, the sons of Aharon, and say to them, none among them may become impure through a dead body.
Vayikra 21:1
Moshe is to instruct the Kohanim that they may not contract tumas meis—halachic impurity through touching or being in the same space as a dead body. One more item on the growing list of mitzvos that prevent the Kohanim from living the “ordinary” life of a rank and file Jew.
Veering from the typical formulation, Hashem does not instruct Moshe to speak to the Kohanim with the word daber, but with the word emor. Though both words connote speaking, the former is a lashon kasheh, bearing a harsher tone, and the latter is a lashon kal, bearing a softer tone. Ordinarily, the term daber is used, with Moshe being instructed to deliver the mitzvos with authority. There are, after all, not 613 suggestions, but 613 commandments.
Considering the lifestyle overhaul demanded of the Kohanim, even beyond that of the rest of the People, the imposing tone of daber seems much more appropriate here. Why is Moshe instructed to soft pedal when it comes to the Kohanim?
Rav Moshe Feinstein suggests that this is due to the position that the Kohanim will assume amongst the nation as role models and educators. Whereas compliance can be demanded when what is at stake is one’s personal obligations alone, inspiring others to serve is a horse of a different color. There is little that has a more powerful impact on a person’s choices and life trajectory than being in the presence of someone who truly loves what they do and finds immense meaning in it. Someone who can lead by the example of living a deeply rewarding life can inspire others to join the same cause. But when there is the sense that that person is simply going through the motions or fulfilling his responsibilities begrudgingly, it is impossible to motivate others to follow suit.
The Kohaim are tasked with being role models, teaching the nation and living by example. The additional strictures demanded of them are necessary for them to properly serve as paragons of sanctity and fitting role models for the nation to look up to. And one cannot teach if they respond to the call only through a lashon kashah—the harsh tone of the word daber. It is the laws of Kehunah specifically that must be conveyed through emor, through a softer tone that invites the Kohanim to accept of their own volition, even if they do not truly have a choice otherwise.
Based on this lesson, Rav Moshe proceeds to offer some critical advice: If you will not fully and willingly embrace the role, do not become a teacher. Many may be swayed to join the ranks of chinuch because of the nobility of teaching Torah to the next generation or out of a sense of duty to the Klal. But duty does not necessarily generate passion, and it is passion that inspires students to imbibe the lessons they are taught and to develop into something greater. If education is not something you can be passionate about, it is best avoided altogether.
Of course when it comes to the Kohanim, there is another reality that we must be mindful of, one that teaches an equally valuable lesson. For the Kohanim, kehunah was not actually a choice, but a demand. Kohanim did not have the option to renounce their kehunah, to do something else with their lives. Kohanim were automatically bound by the laws of the priesthood whether they liked it or not; they were to serve as role models even if they wished to opt out. Why speak to the Kohanim without coercion, giving the impression that kehunah is something they must accept willingly, if in truth, they had no choice?
The answer is obvious. One can take to his responsibilities with passion and enthusiasm even when he has no choice otherwise. And while doing so is sound advice for anyone who wishes to be feel elevated by their responsibilities rather than hampered, the Torah is instructing us that this is especially true for those who will serve as role models to others.
The Kohanim did not have a choice but to be Kohanim, but it was critical that they accepted that responsibility with love and joy. And the same, on some level, is true of everyone. We all serve as role models in some capacity or another, and these are roles that we cannot simply abandon. We are parents and friends and community members. We are coworkers and colleagues and supervisors. In each of these roles, we wield tremendous influence on those around us and under us. We may not have signed up for all these roles, but we need to act as though we had. When we project optimism and enthusiasm, those who must be around us want to be around us and will be far more likely to follow our lead and learn from our example.
It was the same Rav Moshe Feinstein who famously commented that almost an entire generation of Jews was lost to assimilation on the words “Iz shver tzu zein a Yid—It’s hard to be a Jew.” One cannot expect to pass a value system on to the next generation when words either spoken or unspoken convey that he would rather not be bound by those values himself. But with a bounce in our steps and smiles on our faces, there are endless opportunities to positively impact the many who look up us—whether or not we ever asked them to.