Nadab and Abihu: Focusing on the Task at Hand?

April 17th: Shemini
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
RABBI DAVID E. OSTRICH

This is the portion where Aaron’s two older sons, Nabab and Abihu, die, and the big question is Why? What do they do that is so bad—so egregious—that God sends forth a flame and literally zaps them?  “Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took each of them his censer, and put fire in it, and put incense on it, and offered strange fire before the Lord, which he commanded them not. And there went out fire from the Lord, and devoured them, and they died before the Lord.” (Leviticus 10.1-2) The Torah sort of explains that they offered Aish Zarah, strange fire, but this really does not tell us very much. It was not something that God has commanded them, but what exactly is the problem?  Into such an obvious koshi, the Tradition has suggested several possibilities.

Some look at the verses following this story and think that the young men were drunk. “Do not drink wine nor strong drink, you nor your sons, when you go into the Tent of Meeting, lest you die; it shall be a statute forever throughout your generations; that you may differentiate between holy and unholy, and between unclean and clean, and that you may teach the people of Israel all the statutes which the Lord has spoken to them by the hand of Moses.” (Leviticus 10.9-11) Inebriation decreases precision and skews our normal sensibilities. Sometimes that is fine, but other times it can result in disaster.

I remember a Driver’s Ed film I saw when I was a teenager. An astronaut drove a car through a parking lot, beautifully negotiating a path marked by orange cones. Then, he drank a single shot of whiskey and drove the course again. We could see that he was hitting cones and missing the path. However, when he was interviewed afterwards, he reported that he was just as accurate as the first time. Not only does inebriation make us less coordinated; it also skews our judgment.

Other commentators focus on the term zarah / alien and wonder if they were worshiping other gods. (The Mishnaic section describing how Jews are not supposed to participate in idol worship is called Avodah Zara, Idol Worship. It is an interesting section which explores the way that Jews can live in a society with idol worshipers without worshiping idols or facilitating/enabling idol worship themselves.) Though we like to think that our people were monotheists from the start, there are a number of passages which suggest certain elements of polytheism or idolatry hanging on. A giant example is the Golden Calf incident which we just read a few weeks ago.

Some wonder about the possibility that Nadab and Abihu were being creative—that they offered their worship “outside the box.” There are times when creativity is important and helpful, but there are also times when following orders or procedures is paramount. Remember, this incident was just days into the sacrificial worship system. Could this be a situation where God’s commands were meant to be obeyed literally—at least, at the start? If so, then Nabab and Abihu’s “creativity” was actually disobedience.

In all three interpretations, there is the theme of not attending to the task at hand. Rather than focusing on the prescribed worship of God as commanded, Nadab and Abihu seem to be focused on different agendas: the agenda of inebriation, the agenda of idol worship, or the agenda of creative arrogance or indulgence. They are letting non-relevant concerns predominate, and, as a result, they do not perform their assigned tasks. They are not thinking clearly; they are not “on task,” and the results are disastrous.

In the current COVID-19 crisis, it is hard to keep our heads about us. Fear is a constant. The danger is unseen and, in many ways, unknown. When it hits, it is many days after exposure. And when it hits, there are variety of experiences—from nothing (non-symptomatic) to death. Anxiety is certainly present in our lives, and we are often not “in our right minds” as we seek to understand and respond to the danger.

Reb Simcha Bunim of Przysucha (1765-1827) used to twist Hillel’s famous golden rule into a way to learn from the mistakes of our fellows. Hillel said, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor.” Reb Bunim said, “What is hateful in your neighbor, do not do yourself.”

And, so, with this in mind, let us consider some of the mistakes people around us have been making in this time of heightened anxiety—how their other agendas or mindsets have made them less effective in their assigned tasks. Hopefully, we can learn from their mistakes.

Some approach the subject with an over-inflated sense of optimism and salesmanship—talking positively and misrepresenting the truth. They are less concerned with their jobs than with their positive message.

The same can be said for those who approach the subject with an overinflated sense of pessimism and doom. This is an emotional response which, while understandable, does not support strategic thinking.

Some approach the subject with an agenda of certainly—projecting certainty and “science,” even when the science is inexact and far from certain. The face-mask controversy is just an example. Wear them? Don’t wear them? Beyond the scientific facts, the rhetoric of authority has been too often weaponized, and certainty has been claimed much more than is appropriate.

Some approach the subject with anger, looking for groups on which they can project their own angst. We have seen attacks on “young people,” on “old people,” and on various racial or ethnic groups without any regard for the injustice of generalization or for judgments made from an anecdote or two. Is their agenda an actual discussion of facts, or is it more self-indulgent?

Some approach the subject with an eye to their autonomy and boredom, letting these rule their decisions rather than thinking long-term. Short-sightedness is a well-known way to be “not in our right minds,” and anxiety can muddle our thinking and lead to foolish mistakes. 

We do not know exactly what Nadab and Abihu were thinking when they offered the Aish Zarah in the Tent of Meeting, but we can—when we step back and contemplate—see the folly of our own less-than-clear-headed thinking. Let us be aware of our emotions and of the ways they can skew our logical thinking. It is fine to have emotions and to feel them deeply, but separating them from logical and strategic thinking is vital if we are to respond to crisis well.