Torah Portion - May 29, 2008

B’midbar, Numbers 1:1–4:20

With this week’s Torah portion, we begin reading the fourth book of the Torah. In English, it is known as the Book of Numbers, from the Greek and Latin translations. These readings focus on the comprehensive census that God instructs Moses to take. The minute details of this population survey take up much of the parashah. Making it one that many B’nai Mitzvah students are loathe to get. But by looking at the Hebrew title of the book which takes a longer view, points to a very different way of reading this portion. In Hebrew, we call Numbers B’midbar, which means “In the Wilderness.” By understanding even the cut and dry sections of this book as part of the spirituality of wandering in the wilderness, we come to understand why our ancestors did not move directly from slavery to building a land of their own.

The experience of wandering in the wilderness was crucial to the Israelite’s development as a monotheistic people.  Not only was the physical environment harsh, but living by the new laws and commandments of the Torah was not an easy adjustment, either. The Israelites were constantly kvetching at Moses and bickering among themselves; no wonder they waxed nostalgic. Even the slave conditions of Egypt seemed like the comforts of home.

What an important metaphor for our own lives. As I go through a major life change myself, I understand first hand how easy it is to fall into a spiritual wilderness when life is challenging.  When uncertainty causes us to feel disoriented and confused, it is not always easy to hold onto our core values and beliefs. This is what some people might call a “crisis of faith.” The metaphor of the wilderness is very helpful here/

After the census is taken, God instructs the various tribes to set up camp around the Tabernacle, which was always situated at the center of the camp. With this symbol of God’s teachings always in the center of the community, every individual felt connected to the Torah. Perhaps our ancestors were living like nomads in the wilderness; perhaps they were each situated in a different place in the community; but there was one central set of values that remained the focal point of all times.

I have had the good fortune of camping in the Sinai desert and in the wilderness of the Negev. That wilderness is not a sand dessert, but a vast expanse of stone and rock in varying shades of reds and browns and golds. It is possible to see how monotheism evolved in such a landscape. At first glance, the wilderness seems like one never-ending piece of the same boulder. Only after living among the rocks for awhile can we seen the subtle distinctions; the nuanced differences. Then, we can truly experience how the One manifest itself as many pieces.

I try to hold onto this image whenever I feel that I am wandering “in the wilderness” of life. This reminds me of the census and the carefully choreographed encampment. I remember that I might get lonely at times, but I am never truly alone.