Parshas Shemini: Alien Fire: The Spiritual Danger of Artificial Elevation

This week’s Torah portion, Shmini, contains one of the most mysterious and tragic events in the Chumash. The Torah tells us:

“The sons of Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, each took his fire-pan, they put fire in them and placed incense upon it; and they brought before God an alien fire that He had not commanded them.” (Vayikra 10:1)

Now, Rashi—quoting the Talmud and the words of Rabbi Yishmael—offers a surprising insight. He says the sin of Nadab and Abihu wasn’t just the “eish zarah,” the alien fire. Rather, their transgression was that they entered the Sanctuary after drinking wine.

At first glance, this explanation seems to contradict the plain meaning of the Torah. The verse clearly says the issue was the “alien fire,” not wine. So how can R’ Yishmael suggest something else?

But here’s the key: R’ Yishmael is not contradicting the Torah—he’s interpreting it. He’s teaching us to understand the phrase eish zarah not only literally, as a strange or unauthorized flame, but also figuratively—as an alien passion, a foreign state of mind brought into a place of sacredness.

And this interpretation, my friends, is deeply relevant to our own times.

Let’s consider who Nadab and Abihu were. These weren’t ordinary men. In fact, Moses himself said they were greater than even he and Aaron—an extraordinary statement found in Rashi on Leviticus 1:3.

So if they drank wine before entering the Sanctuary, it wasn’t because they were careless or irreverent. No—on the contrary, they were seeking a heightened spiritual experience. They wanted to feel more connected to the Divine. And they believed that drinking wine would help them reach that elevated state. As it says in Tehillim, “Wine makes glad the heart of man” (Psalms 104:15).

By relieving their tension, they hoped the wine would open their hearts to joy and, through that joy, a more profound spiritual connection.

But here’s the lesson: even if the intention is holy, the method matters.

Nadab and Abihu were punished not because they lacked passion—but because they tried to artificially manufacture a spiritual high. True spiritual experience must come from within—through prayer, Torah study, meditation, and reflection on the Infinite—not from altering the brain’s chemistry.

And this message couldn’t be more relevant today.

We live in a time where there is a dangerous trend—where people seek meaning, peace, even spirituality, through substances that alter the mind. I’ve seen it firsthand in my clinical work—people turning to drugs or alcohol in an attempt to escape, to elevate, or to connect.

Decades ago, there were voices—so-called prophets of our generation—who claimed that mind-altering substances like LSD would expand consciousness and offer a glimpse of a higher reality. But instead of enlightenment, we witnessed devastation. We saw lives unravel. We saw brilliant minds destroyed. We still see it today.

R’ Yishmael’s teaching is timeless: altering one’s state of mind with chemicals does not bring us closer to the Divine. It brings eish zarah—a fire that does not belong. A passion that doesn’t sanctify, but corrupts.

This interpretation of R’ Yishmael—one that I arrived at through personal experience—is thankfully supported by many Torah commentators. And I believe it’s a message we must share.

Let us teach our children and our communities that the path to spiritual fulfillment lies not in substances, but in the soul. Let us find joy not in intoxication, but in connection—to Torah, to prayer, to each other, and to Hashem.

Good Shabbos!