In four verses, the parashah tells us of the bitter fate of a man who went out to gather wood on the Sabbath: “Once, when the Israelites were in the desert, a fellow was found gathering wood on the sabbath day. Those who found him as he was gathering wood brought him before Moses, Aaron, and the whole community. He was placed in custody, for it had not been specified what should be done to him. Then God said to Moses, ‘The man shall be put to death: the whole community shall pelt him with stones outside the camp.’” (Numbers 15:32–35)
Within commentary on what appears to be an unrelated Talmudic discussion, the Tosafists cite a midrash that seeks to rehabilitate the image of this wood gatherer. In Baba Batra 119b, they make an original and counterintuitive proposition that he actually acted for the sake of Heaven. Since it had been decreed upon the Israelites – following the sin of the spies – that they would not enter the Promised Land and would wander in the desert for forty years, they felt that they were no longer bound by the commandments. So, say the Tosafists, the gatherer desecrated the Sabbath deliberately, so that he would be put to death and others would learn from his example.
The banning of the Israelites from entering the Land was a deeply dramatic turning point in their relationship with God. According to the midrash, this was understood by many of them to mean that God had decided to break the covenant and sever His relationship with them. The reasoning went like this: He had not brought them into the Promised Land, therefore they were no longer bound by the commandments. The wood gatherer demonstrably desecrated the Sabbath with a view to being caught – knowing full well he would be killed – because he wished to serve as a symbol and an example, and to change the course of history. This is why God commands that he be executed by stoning at the hands of the entire community; to signal that the covenant was still in place, and their obligation to keep the commandments had not expired.
The gatherer’s secret identity
According to the midrash, the wood gatherer was a righteous man, a martyr of sorts – someone who sacrificed himself deliberately in order to teach the people a lesson. But who was this remarkable individual? The Torah does not reveal his name or identity, but where the Torah conceals, the sages reveal. “The Sages taught: The wood gatherer mentioned in the Torah was Zelophehad, and it says: ‘And the children of Israel were in the desert and they found a man gathering wood on the day of Shabbat’ (Numbers 15:32), and below, in the appeal of the daughters of Zelophehad, it is stated: ‘Our father died in the desert’ (Numbers 27:3). Just as below the man in the desert is Zelophehad, so too, here, in the case of the wood gatherer, the unnamed man in the desert is Zelophehad; this is the statement of Rabbi Akiva.” (Shabbat 96b)
Rabbi Akiva seems to pick up on a similar turn of phrase that appears in two separate places to infer one from the other. The four verses about the wood gatherer open with the words: “And the children of Israel were in the desert.” And the daughters of Zelophehad say, elsewhere: “Our father died in the desert.” Why then do they specify that it was in the desert? According to Rabbi Akiva, they are hinting that their father was that same man. From this he concludes that the wood gatherer is Zelophehad. But then something interesting happens in the Talmud – Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira rebukes him: “Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira said to him: Akiva, in either case you will be judged in the future for this teaching. If the truth is in accordance with your statement that the wood gatherer was Zelophehad, the Torah concealed his identity, and you reveal it. And if it the truth is not in accordance with your statement, you are unjustly slandering that righteous man.” (ibid.)
Let’s say you are correct, says Rabbi Yehuda to Rabbi Akiva, let’s suppose it really was Zelophehad. The Torah deliberately chose to leave him anonymous; by what right do you expose his identity? Is your judgment better than the Torah’s? And if you are wrong, Rabbi Yehuda tells Rabbi Akiva, then you have just uttered a slander – lashon hara – against Zelophehad the righteous, and that defamation will tarnish his good name for generations. In other words: if you spoke the truth, you have sinned by revealing a secret; if you erred, you have sinned by spreading slander.
The power of malicious speech
At this point, a deep connection is revealed between the story of the spies that opens the parashah and the story of the wood gatherer. The great sin of the spies was the spreading of slander: “Thus they spread calumnies among the Israelites about the land they had scouted” (Numbers 13:32). The Talmud states: “Come and see how great the power of malicious speech is. From where do we derive this? From the punishment received by the spies. And if one who defames the wood and rocks of Eretz Yisrael received such a severe punishment, then with regard to one who defames another person, all the more so will he be punished severely.” (Arakhin 15a).
The spies were not careful, and they spread slander about the Land. Rabbi Akiva was not careful, and he slandered Zelophehad. Freedom of expression ends where slander begins.
Lior Tal Sadeh is an educator, writer, and author of “What Is Above, What Is Below” (Carmel, 2022). He hosts the daily “Source of Inspiration” podcast, produced by Beit Avi Chai.
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Translation of most Hebrew texts sourced from Sefaria.org
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