By Barry Rosenblatt, April 11, 2026
In today’s torah and haftorah readings, we encounter sons who are killed by a breaking forth of God’s consuming force; and with a bit more digging, there is a third set of sons as well.
In the first set, Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, brought unauthorized fire on the altar. Their action was a breach between the holy and profane. Fire went out “yatsa” from God, and consumed them/akal. This action parallels Lev. 9:24, when God’s fire “yatsa/went out” and consumed/akal the acceptable offering on the altar.
In the haftorah, Uzzah and Zadok, sons of Abinadab, were tasked with guiding the cart holding the ark-of-covenant– Zadok in front and Uzzah in the rear, as David was taking it to Jerusalem; the oxen stumble, Uzzah saw the ark sliding off the wagon. He reached out to keep it from falling to the ground. By doing so, he breached (paratz) the separation between the holy and profane—the crossing of a barrier; the resulting structural failure allowed God’s power to break through/yatsa, and Uzzah was killed on the spot.
Unknowingly, Uzzah violated the core prohibition of Numbers 4:15:
“They shall not touch the holy things, lest they die.”
On the death of Nadav and Avihu, Moshe’s explanation to Aaron was: “This is what the Lord spoke, saying ‘By those who are near to me, I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be honored.’” The meaning of this is that the closer a person is to God (“near to me”), the higher the standard of conduct expected of them. Nadav and Avihu were highest-ranking priests; thus, their deviation from God’s command was treated with extreme severity. By punishing the transgression instantly, God demonstrated that the laws of the Tabernacle were not suggestions, but divine decrees.
According to Rashi, what Moses was telling Aaron was that his sons were so holy that God chose them to demonstrate God’s presence.
Aaron’s reaction, was silence: Vayidom Aron, a sign of profound acceptance.
David’s reaction to Uzzah’s death was fear. David stopped the procession in fear and confusion. The text hints that he did not initially understand why God had “burst out” against Uzzah.
David consults the priests and Levites, and they remind him of the Torah’s requirements:
That Kohathite-Levites must carry the holy objects, and they must not touch them.
That the Kohathites received no wagons, because “the service of the holy things was upon them; they were to carry them on their shoulders.” The ark was to be carried by living persons as an act of service, not towed like common freight.
And that Poles were to be placed in the rings of the Ark and never removed.
David should have known these procedures, but they had been neglected during the chaotic period of Saul’s reign.
The procession was halted. Poles were inserted on the ark, and it was carried on shoulders of Levite/Korahites, to the home of Obed-Edom, also a Levite/Korahite, which happened to be nearby the incident of Uzzah’s death. And it stayed there for three months.
How did the ark get onto a wagon?
During that historical epoch, the Philistines occupied the coastal plain, and the Israelites were in the upper plateau (now known as the West Bank).
The Philistines were naval traders, and their wealth had accumulated from trade throughout the Mediterranean. But they wanted to expand up into the Israelite territory. Wars between them had been occurring for centuries.
Previous to the Uzzah story, and during the reign of the high priest/Eli (when the ark and tent were located in Shiloh), his two sons Hophni and Phineas, were committing two primary sins: (1) Ritual corruption: they took the sacrificial meat before the fat was burned on the altar, for their own purpose; and, (2) Moral decay: they had sexual relations with women assembled at the door of the tabernacle. By doing so, the Israelites came to despise offering sacrifices to God.
The prophet Samuel warned Eli: Because of his failure to control his sons, God’s sign would be that both sons would die the same day in battle with the Philistines.
In a first battle failure, around 4,000 Israelite soldiers were killed. In response, Hophni and Phineas allowed the ark to be carried into battle, using it as a talisman. And this resulted in loss of 30,000 dead, including deaths of Hophni and Phineas. The ark was captured by the Philistines; and Eli died, bringing an end of this family’s priesthood.
While in Philistine custody, their people suffered plagues. So, they decided to return the ark to the Israelites. Not knowing the Torah command for proper carrying, they honored it by placing it on a cart, pulled by two oxen. The cart was brought to the home of Abinadav, where it stayed for 20 years, until David arranged to bring it to Jerusalem.
During that period of time, Uzzah from the time of a young child, saw the wagon with the ark as a household object; he did not comprehend the ark’s ritual power.
When David came to bring the ark to Jerusalem, he failed to search in Torah for the proper way to carry it; and he had it carried in the same wagon provided by the Philistines.
In all three stories—the Nadav and Abihu story, the Hophni and Phineas story, and the Uzzah story, God’s command for proper ritual behavior with God’s holy objects was overlooked. Action was needed in all three.
In all three stories, there is Paratz (a breach) of the separation, and there is yatsa/bursting forth, with immediate death.
So where does all this lead us? It makes no difference whether the paratz is done with purely devotional intent, or by corrupt intent, or by accidental not knowing: The power of God’s sanctity bursts forth/yatsa.
Good intentions are not enough
Sacred objects require sacred methods, and
Enthusiasm must be paired with obedience
I will end here with a quote from the drash on Tetzaveh, of Rabbi Menachem Mirski, currently lead rabbi of Temple Shalom in Long Beach. Menachem is one of the founding members of Beit Polska in Warsaw, which began as a hevruta of third generation post Holocaust Poles, discovering a Jewish family connection, but completely void of any Jewish knowledge—which had been wiped out during two generations of Soviet control).
With the help of Friends of Jewish Renewal in Poland, of which I am a board member, rabbis, torot, and learning was provided to these havurot in various locations in Poland.
Menachem subsequently studied at UJ here in Los Angeles, and he gained s’micha.
He titled his drash: “Commanded vs. Inspired: The Spiritual Psychology of Obligation.”
So I quote:
“When action depends solely on inspiration, the self becomes the ultimate authority. If one prays only when moved, gives only when inclined, observes only when convenient, then religious life is governed by mood. Inspiration becomes both catalyst and gatekeeper.
Obligation disrupts this pattern. It introduces continuity independent of feeling. According to Talmud Kiddushin 31a, “Greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does.” The reasoning behind this is subtle: when an act is commanded, it involves resistance. There is an awareness of duty, perhaps even reluctance. To act nonetheless reflects discipline and loyalty. The commanded act carries weight precisely because it transcends impulse.”
We have the ability to imbue sanctity with our communal sacred objects, for example the Torah. When we transport it from shul to a shiva house, it is covered with a tallit, not exposed like a library book.
I look with attentive Awe upon my morning minyan Monday and Thursday tasks of opening the ark, and of carrying the torah to the Torah service sheliach; and similarly to returning it to the ark and closing.
It’s with this reverence that if the Torah is accidentally dropped, the congregation accepts its incumbent duty to fast. And our temple’s fire drill actions include removing all torahs from the building.
It’s up to us to maintain awe and reverence to the holy, and to treat the holy according to ritual.
Shabbat shalom.