So begins the portion that deals with a person desiring to offer his ערך — 'value' to G-d. The Torah goes on to detail the exact amount a person must give based solely on one's age and gender, not factoring the individual's health, talents, or strengths in determining that value.

The Holy Alshich sees in this person's intent to vow the value of נפשות לד', a desire to consecrate his very being to G-d, no different than sanctifying an animal as an offering in the Temple.  

Rashi wonders about the grammatical appropriateness in referring to his volunteering his 'worth' as בערכך literally translated as 'your worth'. Being that the verse introduces the vower in the third person, "if a man articulates a vow…", why would it suddenly transition to speaking to him directly, in the second person, "your worth"?

Rashi, baffled by this inconsistency confesses and states "I don't know!"   

This discrepancy is repeated throughout the entire portion so that whenever it refers to one's undertaking a vow of valuation, despite speaking in the third person, it never continues by correctly referring to 'his' vow, and always switches to 'your vow'.

Both Rav Mordechai HaKohen of Safed, the Sifsei Kohen, a great 16^th century Kabbalist and purveyor of the Torah of the Arizal, and Rav Moshe Dovid Valle, 17^th century Italian scholar and renowned disciple of the Ramchal, independently offer a very insightful solution to this anomaly.

Rav Valle first asks, how can the Torah place any price tag on a Jewish soul, don't we learn that if saves any Jew it is as if one has saved an entire world, and is truly priceless?

They both answer saying that is precisely the point. G-d when referring to the 'value' intimating a finite worth is only true in the realm of man on earth and his limited perceptions, who lives by assessing constantly relative values in formulating what is truly worthy in this world. The Torah therefore reasserts each time reference to man's worth is mentioned, that it is only in the world of 'your values' that one can relate a price, because in G-d's eyes we are indeed invaluable.

It is precisely because of this reality that the Torah does not factor in any physical or even spiritual strengths of the individual being 'assessed', since in G-d's eyes each and everyone of us is equally precious, deficiencies notwithstanding.

Rav Mordechai HaKohen interprets the verse that discusses the situation of a man who undertook a vow of valuation but cannot afford to pay that full price — where the Torah states: 'But if he too is poor, מערכך — for the valuation', the Kohen will adjust his obligation based on his financial status — in a most novel way.

If a man feels unworthy, it is only because you are basing it מערכך — from 'your' limited and inaccurate assessment of what your true worth is in G-d's eyes.

He then points out that this portion is strategically situated directly after the תוכחה — the Admonition, where the Torah foretells of the terrible tragedies that will befall the nation due to their many sins. A person may be misled to think that G-d no longer cares for us, nor cherishes us as he did in the glory days of our history. To quash that notion the Torah states clearly that such a conclusion is preposterous and only due to our poor vision. We must know with certainty, that 'every single member of the Jewish people are beloved by the Holy One, blessed be He.'

The Holy Kohen teaches that all the difficulties G-d sends upon us is lovingly sent to cleanse and preserve us, prodding us to rediscover our true worth in His eyes.

Rav Valle notices a similarity between the opening verse in this portion and that of the Nazir who undertakes a vow, by both it states איש — a man, כי יפליא —that articulates a vow.

The Torah is seeking to instruct us that when we quest for holiness, appreciating who we are and the 'value' we each possess, G-d will confer upon us His sanctity, as by the Nazir.

This past Lag BaOmer I pondered the uplifting piyut we sing entitled Bar Yochai. Each stanza seems to describe the greatness of Rebbi Shimon Bar Yochai. Yet, strangely he is only referred to as Bar Yochai, the son of his father Yochai. Why?

One sentiment expressed troubled me. We say there, נעשה אדם — Let us make Man, נאמר בעבורך — was said for you.  This would seem to indicate that Rebbi Shimon was the epitome of all creation and in a sense a reincarnation of Adam. Echoing the earlier question of Rav Valle, but aren't we taught that every man is obligated to affirm, בשבילי נברא העולם — because of me the world was created, each one of us is worthy of the universe being purposed for our individual accomplishment? (סנהדרין לז)

The Great Reb Nachman of Breslov reveals that the father of Rebbi Shimon, Yochai, name is alluded in the verse that Rebbi Shimon taught is a promise of G-d that Torah will never be forgotten from our seed. כי לא — for it shall not, תשכח — be forgotten, מפי זרעו — from the mouth of its offspring. (דברים לא כא)

The last letter in each of these words combine to spell out י-ו-ח-א-י.

Perhaps this song is not about Rebbi Shimon per se, but about all 'children' of fathers, Bar Yochai being the paradigm for every one of us in conveying the greatness we possess, about whom G-d uttered, "Let us make Man" — each one of us, who is worthy of being the purpose of creation.

My dear friend, Rabbi Yechiel Spero, related a touching story about a young woman, Rifky, who forsook the traditions of her parents, rejecting Torah and leaving home. Rifky quickly became Randy and despite occasionally returning home for the holidays on occasion over the first few years of her rebellion, eventually drifted totally away from her very frustrated parents.

Twenty years later, her father approached Reb Naftulchik, the Bobover Rebbe, presenting him a kvittle with all his family members' names requesting a blessing. The Rebbe slowly read the petition, then inquiring to the father that one of his children's names was missing. The father sadly related the history of his 'lost' and estranged daughter. The Rebbe looked deeply into his eyes and said, "A Kind bleibt aleh muhl a kind — A child always remains a child."

He took the message to heart, lovingly and longingly adding his daughter's name to the kvittle.

Upon his returning home, his wife excitedly greeted him telling him that for the first time in decades Rifky 'called home'.

Perhaps it was the Rebbe's blessing that prodded her interest. I would like to think that it was the father's rekindled appreciation for his daughter's priceless 'neshama', no matter how far removed, that provoked G-d's embrace in turn to his beloved children.

May we realize how cherished we are and merit to arouse G-d's tangible presence in our lives. After all, we are all His children, and 'a kind bleibt aleh muhl ah kind!' 

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן