A wilderness of our own

 

B’midbar

Num. 1:1 - 4:20

 

Précis: B’midbar is an amalgamation of the narrative of wilderness wanderings (including the stories of the spies, Korach’s rebellion, Balaam’s donkey, and the sin of Moses), sacrificial requirements, the establishment of Israel’s moving camp, and census data.

                As B’midbar (“in the wilderness”) begins, Moses is directed to take a census (“take the number”) from which the English name (Numbers) of the Book derives. A detailed listing of the numbers of each tribe follows; each tribe is apportioned a particular location in the camp. A listing of the Levitical families then follows, together with the beginning of a discussion of their duties.                

                B’midbar, according to Rabbi Plaut, continues the narrative from Exodus (which was largely interrupted by Leviticus), and begins about a year after the liberation, covering the wandering in the desert. He notes that details are provided for only the first and last years, with the “middle” 38 left mostly to our imaginations. The focus of the Book appears to “point to this moment when Israel is poised to take possession of its inheritance.” 

 

Num. 1:1 - 2 “And Adonai spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai… saying, ‘Take the sum of the congregation of the children of Israel, by their families, by their father’s houses, according to the number of names, every male, by their polls.’”

 

The Israelites are marching through the wilderness. They do not know what to anticipate, and life is suddenly filled with new terrors (What will I eat? What will I drink? Where are we going? Is the enemy going to kill us?). There is no real surprise that the recently freed slaves seek to return to the imagined safety of Egypt.

            So, God tells Moses to take a census of the people. Every person is to be counted, without exception. Therefore, each person counts.

           Americans are once again living with virtually daily reminders of gun violence and massacres. We live in a nation where young men who cannot legally buy a beer can purchase a rifle, and hours later destroy the lives of children and their teachers in a school, or commit the most virulent hate crimes against minorities. There are more guns than there are people in the United States.

            No other nation in the world suffers from this kind of gun violence. Is this how we establish American "exceptionalism?" 

            So, what does this have to do with B’midbar? Moses was ordered to take a census in which every person counts. The dead in our schools, hospitals, places of worship, and shopping marts also count. We are living with two pandemics: Covid and gun violence.  We must, each of us, also count. The polls tell us that an overwhelming number of Americans support reasonable gun safety measures. But we don't seem to vote for politicians who will enact such necessary laws. I am almost, but not entirely, hopeless. The Israelites made it through the wilderness, and I pray that we can make it through this wilderness of our own making.

Beware

 Bechukotai

Lev. 26:3 - 27:34

 

Précis: The parasha, the final parasha in Vayikra, begins with a statement promising blessing if the People follow Adonai’s ways. The blessings are discussed in detail. But, if the People disobey, terrible punishments will be visited upon them, and these, too, are listed in agonizing detail. The Book of Leviticus then concludes (as it opened) with regulations regarding the upkeep of the Sanctuary, from voluntary tithes, land gifts, firstborn redemption, and the tithes of flocks.

 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, z’l, describes the blessings and curses of this parasha (Covenant and Conversation, 5/14/20). He notes that when the Bible was written, a nation’s fate mirrored the conduct of the nation. If people behaved well, the nation would prosper. If they behaved badly, bad things would happen. He cites Martin Luther King who paraphrased our prophets, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” Not always immediately but ultimately, good is rewarded with good, bad with bad.
            Sacks characterizes the curses as “savage eloquence,” noting that the effect is intensified by the repeated hammer blows: “If after all this … if you remain hostile … if in spite of these things … if in spite of this.” The word keri, he suggests, is key to the whole passage, and is repeated seven times. Since it appears nowhere else in the whole Tanach, its meaning is uncertain. It may mean rebelliousness, obstinacy, indifference, hard-heartedness, reluctance or being-left-to-chance. But the basic principle is clear. If you act toward Me with keri, says God, you will be devastated.
            Sacks asks why the curses are so much longer and stronger than the blessings? His answer: God loves and forgives, but only if when we do wrong, we acknowledge the fact, express remorse, make restitution to those we have harmed, and repent.

            Traditional sources suggest that we take the curses as warnings.   As with the Book of Jonah, Sacks suggests that a prophecy is not a prediction but a warning, describing a fearful future in order to persuade the people to avert it.                                        

            While ours is a religion of love and forgiveness, it is also a religion of justice, and fear of the bad is an inducement, a motivator of the good. When we as a society make wrong choices, we lose our solidarity. When we as a society fail to consider the consequences of our actions (see, e.g., gun violence, global warming, financial crashes, the rise of totalitarianism) the curses of this parasha are made manifest. As Sacks concludes, the message of this parasha is: “Beware. Take note. Don’t function on autopilot. Once a society begins to fall apart, it is already too late. Avoid the bad. Choose the good. Think long and choose the road that leads to blessings.”