Comparison of Loss

 In this shorter third aliyah of Pinchas, there is an interesting comparison between two sets of individuals who died in the 40-year journey.

First, we once again read about Nadav and Avihu (poor Nadav and Avihu!) who are, again, scolded for perishing after bringing an alien fire.

Then, quite stunningly, in Bemidbar 26:64, the Torah succinctly describes a summary of the second census, which is: "And, among these, there was no man of those counted by Moses and Aaron the Kohen who was counted the Children of Israel in the Wilderness of Sinai."  In other words, not a single person counted in this second census was counted in the first census - the latter had all died, just as, of course, promised.

Surely there is a connection, however difficult to comprehend, between the nearness of these verses.  The relationship is clear - just as Nadav and Avihu died for bringing an alien fire, the entire populace died for their own form of rebelliousness in the episode of the spies.  Unfortunately - and quite sadly - they are too numerous to name.  Perhaps in some mysterious, forgotten book - the type of Book the Torah casually refers to which is now extant (the Book of the Covenant, the Book of Wars) - their names are preserved and recorded.

I am quite tired, so this is certainly out there, but while I hate the word "sin" so very much, there is something to be said for the connection between our actions on this earth and the fact that we have to die at all.  It is, as the Midrashists have said, as if the default is immortality (the soul sure is) and the non-default is death.  But at the same time, even the purest of the pure tzadikkim don't live forever (at least not in the purely physical way we picture "life") - perhaps they, as bearers of the entire congregation, absorbed the acts and choices of others into their own loss of life.

This must be the reason why the Rambam wrote that a final option for teshuva is, to be blunt, death.  At a certain point, the only path forward is to return the soul.  Nadav and Avihu, we are repeatedly reminded, did so in an instant; it took the rest of Bnei Yisrael 40 years.  That doesn't mean that our stories are too different.