There are two motivations to keeping the mitzvot: Love and fear.
Love will keep one in line because one derives pleasure and energy from one’s relationship with the Torah. Fear will keep one in line because one knows that eventually, upstairs, one will have to account for one’s deeds downstairs.
But fear of death ultimately leads to depression and depression is a form of death itself, because it sucks the life out of one. Depression is a form of tumah. And therefore, keeping the mitzvot out of fear is the lowest level of commitment, leading to tumah.
The Parah Adumah was an antidote to tumah. Mixing the ashes of the cow, the mother of the primary sin of the Egel HaZahav, with water which signifies the purity of Torah, was designed to cure one of depression.
What should motivate one to keep the mitzvot is the happiness that one derives from the Torah way of life, not fear of death. That is the “chukah,” the imperative of the Torah. It is the Torah itself that is the cure for depression. It makes you get up each morning and enjoy the day. Learning Torah, keeping it and loving it is the key to life.
Destruction and death come to those who do not serve G-d out joy but out of fear alone. “All of these curses will befall you until you are destroyed, because you did not serve G-d with joy and gladness of the heart” (Devarim 28:47). The chukah, the lesson of the Torah is that we should never sink to the level of needing the Parah Adumah to cure us of depression. That is why when introducing the laws of Parah Adumah, the Torah says “these are the laws of the Torah” (Bamidbar 19:2) rather than “these are the laws of the Parah Adumah,” because the Torah itself should be the cure, not the Parah Adumah.
This theme of service out of love rather than out of fear repeats itself with the story of Moshe and the rock (Bamidbar 20:7-14). There are two ways of turning unfeeling hearts of stone into loving hearts of mitzvot. One way is with the rod of discipline, the fear of punishment and, ultimately, the fear of death. The other way is with the enticing words of Torah, which is the Etz Chayim, the tree of life, not the rod of death.
Chukah also means something that defies human logic. The Torah consists of chukim, like the laws of Parah Adumah which make no sense to us. How can the very potion of ashes mixed with water render the tameh (the impure person it touches) tahor (pure), while at the same time rendering the tahor person who touches it tameh, impure!
The Torah also consists of mishpatim, laws that make sense to us, that we could have made up ourselves, as other nations have done, like laws that forbid murder or stealing.
In fact, even the chukim are logical. They are logical to their Maker, just not to us. Not wearing sha’atnez, a classic chok, protects us, like some medication which we take because it works, even though we don’t understand how. For chukim “are your wisdom and discernment in the eyes of the nations who shall hear all of these decrees and say, ‘Surely a wise and discerning people is this great nation’” (Devarim 4:6).
And that is why Parshas Chukas follows Korach. Korach was all about deifying human logic. If a chok does not make sense to the human mind, it is wrong. And so Korach asked Moshe: Does a cloak made entirely of techeiles require tzitzit or is it exempt? Moshe responded that it is obligated in tzitzit. Korach and his cohorts then began to ridicule Moshe and said is this possible? If a cloak which had previously no techeiles in it, adding even one thread of techeiles is sufficient; then this one which is entirely made of techeiles, should it not exempt itself? (Midrash Tanchumah, Korach 2). Yet you Moshe say it does require tziztit! That is illogical, so you Moshe must have made it up yourself, just as you decided yourself to anoint your brother as kohen gadol.
Moshe’s answer is simple. “You’re right, but you’re wrong. I was the one who received the Torah from G-d, not you. I asked Him the same question. Does such a tallit which is entirely techeiles need tzitzit? And He said yes. Why? I don’t know. It’s none of my business. It’s His business. I’m just a consumer of chukim and they work.”
Ultimately, Korach the sceptic, who killed himself with his own logic, had to admit from the grave that Moshe was right and His Torah was right and he got it wrong.
