What was special about the eighth day that the Torah calls it Yom HaShemini, using the “heh ha’yediah,” the definite article, similar to Yom HaShishi, the sixth day of creation? Rashi tells us that the letter “heh” stands for the Chamisha Chumshei Torah, the five books of the Torah for which the world was created. Similarly, the “heh” preceding the word Shemini, tells us that the world was created in order that there should be a Beis HaMikdash.
Chazal tell us that five things distinguished the first Temple, in which G-d’s presence was palpably felt, from the second Temple, in which G-d’s presence was hidden. First, there was the Aron HaLuchos, the Holy Ark with the tablets containing the Ten Commandments. Second, fire came down from heaven and burned on the altar in the shape of a crouching lion, whereas in the second Temple the fire was less powerful and was in the shape of a crouching dog, more like a pilot light. Third, the Shechina, G-d’s presence, resided in the first Temple. Fourth, the source of all prophecy emanated from between the wings of the Keruvim, from where G-d would speak to the prophets. And fifth, the Choshen Mishpat that the kohen gadol wore had the final power of judgment through the Urim and the Tumim.
The Beis HaMikdash, like the Torah was one of the items that was created before the seven days of creation. Yom HaShevii, the seventh day, celebrates the creation of the physical world. Yom HaShemini celebrates the induction of the spiritual world into the physical world, the inauguration of G-d’s embassy on earth. The word Shemini comes from the word shemen, oil, which was used to anoint the people who served in the Temple and the items that furnished the Temple with holiness.
During the seven days of miliuim (inauguration), Aharon was not permitted to officiate in the Temple. Moshe acted as the kohen gadol. Aharon, so to speak, was in training. Even on the morning of the eighth day, Aharon did not participate in the offering of the Korban Tamid. This, too, was brought by Moshe.
Before Aharon could act as the representative of the people in bringing the korbanos that would atone for their sins, he had to atone for his own sin of participating in and facilitating the creation of the golden calf. Even though he brought an egel, which reminded G-d of the Egel Hazahav, it was accepted by G-d as atonement for his sin. First, his atonement was sincere; second, G-d understood Aharon’s true motive in assisting the building of the golden calf. Chur, who had tried to stop Bnei Yisrael from committing the sin, was killed by a mob, and Aharon understood that if the Jews would kill him too, they would never be forgiven. It was in order to save them from destruction that Aharon did what he did. So, even as his actions were wrong, his motive was pure and deserving of forgiveness.
In addition, before he could serve as the people’s agent for atonement, Aharon had to bring an ayil, a ram as an Olah offering. The ayil represents Yitzchak, who was prepared to bring the ultimate korban – himself. Having brought the egel for atonement of his sin and an ayil in which he strives to be as pure and selfless as Yitzchak, Aharon is now ready to assume the role of kohen gadol and officiate in the bringing of the daily sacrifices.
Whereas Moshe instructs Aharon directly to bring his personal sacrifices for the atonement of his own sins, he instructs Aharon to command the Jews to bring their sacrifices for the atonement of their participation in the golden calf, rather than instructing them himself. Moshe does this because he wants the Jews to understand that, like Moshe who had no part in the building of the golden calf, Aharon too is no longer tainted with that sin after he has sincerely atoned for it by bringing his sacrifices. He now has the same authority as Moshe to instruct them in how to achieve their own atonement.
The Jew must bring a sa’ir, a he-goat, and a keves, a sheep, to atone for their sin. A he-goat is the sacrifice that is prescribed for the atonement of inadvertent avodah zara. The Jews, so to speak, inadvertently served the golden calf because their teacher Aharon went along with it. Although they should have understood the maxim of “Divrei harav v’divrei hatalmid, lemi shomim” – that when there is a contradiction between the instructions of one’s Master and the instructions of His student one must follow the instructions of one’s Master – still they were not as culpable as Aharon. There was a mitigating circumstance to their actions. And they brought a sheep because they had forgotten how they once rejected idolatry by slaughtering the sheep, the deity of the Egyptians, on their exodus from Egypt. Having fallen off the wagon and embraced idolatry again, they had now to reenact that demonstration of defiance.
Having offered up all of these sacrifices to achieve forgiveness and attain the purity needed to welcome G-d into His Temple, Aharon now waits for the sign of forgiveness, for the fire to come down from heaven to consume the offerings. But it does not come. So he asks Moshe to join him in prayer in beseeching G-d to demonstrate His forgiveness by dispatching the fire, the symbol of His presence. Only after the offering of the prayers does the fire descend from heaven. Such is the power of prayer that even when all has been done to achieve forgiveness, the switch that triggers atonement is prayer. We see this too in the story of creation where seeds created in the ground ready to sprout into vegetation only did so after the human being was created and prayed for it to happen.
And Aharon raised his hands towards the people and blessed them; then he descended from having performed the offerings. The way the Torah describes it, it sounds like Aharon blessed the people from the altar. In fact we know that he blessed them from the floor of the Ohel Mo’ed, after he had finished his work on the altar. So why does the Torah reverse the order. The message is that the Birchat Kohanim is part and parcel of the korbanos. Now that we have achieved atonement we need the blessing. There is no point to atonement without a blessing. By bringing the korbanos we demonstrate to G-d that we understand that everything we own comes from Him, even the wealth signified by the most precious of peoples’ possessions in those days, namely heads of cattle. After making this admission, we now can ask him to bless us in going about our daily lives. One sentence in Tanach tells us “Ki li kol ha’aretz,” all of the earth belongs to G-d. Another sentence tells us “Veha’aretz nasan livnei adam,” that G-d has given us the earth. Which is it? Does the earth belong to G-d or to us? The answer is that the license to partake in the enjoyment of G-d’s creation on this earth only kicks in once we recognize where it all really comes from. This recognition comes in the form of korbanos and in reciting a blessing before enjoying what is His.
Shemini starts out with the words “Vayehi beyom HaShmini.” Chazal tell us that whenever the words “Vayehi beyom” or “Vayehi bimei” are used, something sad is about to happen. What was sad about G-d’s appearance in the Temple? Weren’t we eagerly waiting for that and weren’t we happy when it finally happened and the fire came down from heaven, as it says “Vayorounu ha’am,” the people sang for joy?
The sad part of the day was the sudden death of Nadav and Avihu, Aharon’s sons. It seems they did not understand that ultimately the recognition of G-d demands keeping a respectful distance from Him even as he dwells among us.
We read in (Vayikra 26:12) the words “Vehishalachti besochachem vehayisi lachem lelokim ve’atem tiheyu li le’am – I will walk among you, I will be a G-d unto you and you will be a people to me.” And this is what Rashi says about these words, “I will stroll with you in the Garden of Eden like one of you and you will not tremble because of me. One might be able to think that you will not fear me? To teach us otherwise, the verse says,I will be a G-d to you.”
However close G-d might be to you, and He was very close to Nadav and Avihu who served as the only kohanim during the era after the golden calf and before the building of the Mishkan, you must still keep your distance. You cannot just walk into G-d’s chamber uninvited and bring any korbanos you want to bring. There has to be a balance between G-d’s generosity of allowing His presence to dwell among you and your respecting Who it is that is dwelling among you. You do this by keeping your distance, respecting his rules and not making up your own.
Chazal gives us various explanations for what exactly Nadav and Avihu did wrong. According to one view, they preempted the ruling of Moshe and brought their own fire to the altar, rather than rely on G-d’s fire from heaven. In so doing they were not halachically wrong, because we are told that even though the fire came down from heaven, it is appropriate for the kohanim to light the fire themselves. But the point was that this halacha was imparted by G-d to Moshe, not to them. And even though they reached the same conclusion, they should have waited for Moshe to instruct them. Acting on their own showed disrespect to Moshe and a misplaced pride in their own erudition.
Another view given by Chazal is that they walked behind Moshe and Aharon and ridiculed them as being too old to serve and out of touch with the needs of the people. They wished that Moshe and Aharon would move on already and pass the leadership down to them.
And a third view is that they never married. In their own eyes, nobody was good enough for them.
What is common in all these three views as to what Nadav and Avihu did wrong is the notion that their egos were too large. Whether it showed itself in preempting the rulings of Moshe, believing that they were better leaders than Moshe and Aharon, or too good to marry anyone, their egos always took center stage, to the point that they thought they could drop in anytime, uninvited, to G-d with man-made korbanos.
In fact, Nadav and Avihu did not act this way voluntarily. Their actions were foretold already in Shemos 29:43. G-d, so to speak, made them do this so that the Jews would understand the difference between respect and familiarity. The sad part of the eighth day was that Nadav and Avihu had to die so that the Jews would get this message rather than figuring it out it on their own.
