Ohr HaChaim Yomi: Yitzhak Levi’s weekly question and answer on Parashat Chukat-Balak, drawing on the Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh, Rabbi Chaim ibn Attar.
Question
Parashat Chukat is another one of those “Bnei Yisrael versus adversity” episodes.
First, Miriam dies. And with her, the miraculous well that provided water for the Jewish people disappears.
Immediately, the people complain: “Why did you bring us to this desert to die? There are no figs, no vines, no pomegranates, and no water!”
Then later, after Aharon dies and the Clouds of Glory depart, the people become discouraged from the difficult journey and complain again: “Why did you bring us out of Egypt to die in the desert? We have no bread, no water, and we’re disgusted by this manna!”
At this point, a fair question has to be asked: Haven’t we done this before?
The Answer: The Problem Was Never the Complaint
Let’s be honest.
Not having a water source is a problem. No having a direct route into the Land is frustrating. Watching Miriam and Aharon pass away is heartbreaking.
The Torah is not asking the Jewish people to pretend they’re okay. The problem wasn’t the complaint.
It was the accusation.
Reality Check
There’s a big difference between saying:
“Moshe, we’re scared.” And saying: “You brought us here to die.”
There’s a big difference between saying:
“We don’t understand what’s happening.” And: “Everything you’ve done for us was a mistake.”
Same emotion. Very different conversation.
The Strange Thing About Chukat
This time, however, something changes.
The snakes come. People are dying. And for the first time in a long time, Bnei Yisrael say: “ו נאטח” — “We have sinned.”
Not: “Moshe, fix it.” Not: “Hashem, why us?”
Just: “We were wrong.” That’s enormous.
Why This Might Be the Most Important Moment
Think about it.
The generation of the spies doubled down. Korach doubled down. Pharaoh doubled down.
But here? The people stop. They reflect. They admit fault.
And then they ask Moshe to pray for them. Not because the snakes were gone. The snakes were still there.
But because they finally understood that the real poison wasn’t the venom. It was the attitude.
Modern Application: The Hardest Words in Judaism
Let’s be honest.
The three hardest words in any language are: “I was wrong.”
We’d rather explain. We’d rather justify. We’d rather give context.
Bnei Yisrael teach us something remarkable here: The moment you say, “I sinned,” you’ve already begun to heal.
Final Thought
Chukat isn’t teaching us that Jews shouldn’t complain. We’re Jews. Complaining is practically a folk art. J
What Chukat teaches us is that when our pain turns into accusation, and our fear turns into bitterness, we lose perspective.
But the moment we stop, take a breath, and say: “Okay. This time, we went too far.”
That’s the moment Hashem begins to heal us. And perhaps that’s why the cure for the snake’s bite wasn’t removing the snakes. It was learning to look upward.