Vayikra

In the week’s Torah reading, called Vayikra, there is an oddity.  The word Vayikra is written with a tiny aleph as the last letter.  It is actually written that way in the holy Torah.

Why?  Without the aleph the word Vayikra become Vayikar, changing the meaning from “And He called….” to “And he was dear…”

Perhaps it could indicate two meanings at once.  God “called” to Moses and spoke to him the next words.  At the same, time, it is implicit that Moses was very “dear” to God.  Why would there be a need to state both?  Maybe God always holds us very dear when He calls to us….even when we are oblivious to the call.  This is a powerful idea because with other people we want them to respond to us for we connect with them.  It is not so with God.   He reaches out even when we do not reciprocate.

Could this be the lesson we are being taught?  That God wants us to always think the best of one another.  When someone does not acknowledge our efforts or our presence we become offended and want to strike back at them.  Yet, we know the truth: there are times when a person is so self-absorbed they do not see what is happening around them.  Other times they are nursing a wound, which may have nothing to do with us.  And by our misinterpretation of their action we can destroy this relationship.

It is a mitzvah to forgive and judge people kindly.  May we do so.  With all the comments made, especially with which we do not agree, may kindness prevail over bitterness.

V'Zot HaBerakha: And This is the Blessing

"And Moses, the servant of the Lord died there."

Like all mortals, Moses was destined to leave his body and be rejoined with his ancestors. Yet, by the Torah defining the point of death, it also enjoins the reader to understand that the death of Moses was physical. His spirit, resiliency, and devotion remain alive. That is why the Torah states that Moses died "there". As long as we turn back to the Torah and invest our souls in the work of understanding the Will of the Almighty the spirit of Moses continues to live.

In much the same way, the last Sidra of the Torah deliberately ells us that Moses was the servant of God. That is why the Radak interprets this word to be an invitation for all future generations to imitate the path of Moses. Any person can devote themselves to something larger than their mortal self. Just as a servant is solicitous to his master so too anyone can follow the path of Moses using the same principle, love.

And, what if we do not have the internal strength to master ourselves? what if we fall short? That is why teshuva, return, is always an option. With the holy day of Yom Kippur just past we become aware that our lives are a process of moving towards becoming whole. It must ever be a forward-moving process. Even if at times we move in the wrong direction, it is critical to never give up trying to refine our character, become a servant of God.

That is also why as the Torah winds to a close we immediately open it up at the other end and commence the process of renewal. The Torah is bound on wooden spindles that ever roll. We walk through life, make attempts at growth, reach the end of a phase of life and then begin again.
In fact, it is remarkable that we celebrate the Torah with unbridled enthusiasm now when we finish the Torah and not at Shavuot, the anniversary of the Giving of Torah. Why? The Torah is perfect. Measuring ourselves against its light we fall silent, awestruck by its enormity and boundless power. The reading of the Torah, by contrast, is an exercise in movement, becoming. That is why Simhat Torah outstrips Shavuot in sheer joy. When we conclude the Torah we celebrate our renewal along with the renewal of the endless cycle of learning, and growth.

The name of the Torah reading is V'zot HaBerakha, "This is the Blessing." The Midrash states that when the Lord God told Moses that his life was about to end, Moses complained. He told God how troubled his life was a leader was: he had to cajole the people, threaten them, plead with them, plead for them and now as it was all about to end, he had a single request of the One: Let me bless them.

The blessing is upon you.

Haftara Insight:
Almost seamlessly the Torah portion segues into the Hafatara. Moses, our Teacher, has died, and the position of leadership has passed to his disciple, Joshua. The promise of God to continue His protective shield and maintain the covenant with His people remains firmly planted. Yet, as before, the Holy One demands that we carry our part of the covenant. We are to remain pledged and true to the mitzvot. With these instructions and words of encouragement the people respond as they had at Mt. Sinai. They reaffirmed their commitment and fidelity to the Word of the Almighty.

A Matter of Law:
Rambam teaches that the last eight pesukim -- verses --of the Torah may be read without a minyan. This is because they are ancillary to the Torah. Lower in holiness than the rest of the five books these pesukim detail the death and praise the life of Moshe Rabbenu.
Because we are forbidden from reading the same Torah portion twice, this sidra is always reserved for the night of Simhat Torah, not Shabbat.

Ha'azinu

In the modern era when we enjoy and take great naches from the new country of Israel we often remind ourselves of the miraculousness of her existence. She is the culmination of dreams and prayers that remained strong for two thousand years of exile. The fact that she still lives is remarkable given the ongoing threats that have continued unabated since her birth. Yet, Moses speaks even to our time. He announces to vast unknown generations that miracles abound when Jews place their trust in the Lord, God.

Perhaps one of the worst crimes against our self that we commit is to minimize the miracles of our time. In one old apocryphal tale a king asks his vizier for proof of the existence of God. The adviser answered, “The Jews, sire, the Jews.”
Much the same point is made by the Hafetz Hayim. The Hafetz Hayim once asked a man how he was feeling. The man responded to the master that things could be much better.

The Hafetz Hayim answered the man, “How do you know? How can you be really sure that things could be better? Perhaps you are wrong. Maybe life is exactly as it ought to be and if the balance were disturbed, your life would be much worse.”
I believe the Hafetz Hayim was deliberately telling the man to look at his life and like it. It is far too easy to be dismissive of what we have as we jealously look across to our neighbor and salivate with envy. The way of doubt is easy. The way of faith, on the other hand, is to appreciate what God has presented to us.

It is no great hochma, wisdom, to be dismissive. It is easy to be critical. It is easy to take pot-shots and shoot holes into beliefs. For those who wish to write-off America as hopelessly corrupt and a failure they can cite case after case to bolster their argument. Take a great leader and place under a microscope all their flaws and their dark underbelly strips away all the good things they did. One can criticize Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Maimonides, Akiva, anyone and find a world that is devoid of models of behavior. Schindler was a drinker, Freud was a druggie, Kennedy a womanizer. What is left? What have we proven? That we are smarter than they? No, only that there is no goodness in the world.

The Hazon Ish makes a similar point in speaking about a tailor. Someone watching sees him with a pair of scissors cutting strips of fabric from many bolts of cloth. The observer says to himself, what a mess. Why is this man ruining all these fine stretches of fabric? Only when the tailor does his work in crafting a master piece of clothing does it become apparent to all what he was doing. That is the way of God, says the Hazon Ish. We see only a fragment of what he does. Instead of making judgments, faith dictates that we observe and accept.

Perhaps that is also why the Israeli nation anthem nods to this principle when it states that this new national identity is the fruition of a two thousand year old promise. Israel came about, this implies, because God was the guiding force throughout the epochs. Israel came to be when God ordained that it was time. Because the people kept the prayers alive, the vision and dream undimmed, it came to pass.

A Matter of Law:
We all have debts. Some are larger than others. They, at times seem to consume our waking and sleeping hours. The Sages warn however that the honor of another person overwhelms even such an obligation. At no time are we ever permitted to embarrass another person for the sake of a loan or debt they have not repaid.
Haftara Insight:
An old man, King David readies himself to take leave of this universe. His powerful words so resonate with us that they are often used at funerals even today. They express the notion that God is above death. He is the ultimate rock of existence. Knowing that the Holy One reigns forever makes even death less frightening.
More, God redeems and forgives us for our earthly sins. That is the greatness of the love of God.

Vayeylech

Moses, in one of his last talks to the Jewish people sings a song that is both lyrical and enigmatic. One statement stands out among them all. Moses claims that now that he is aged, one hundred-twenty years old!, that he can no longer come or go" (Deut. 31:2). An admission of his waning strength Moses confesses to his people, in effect, that his bones ache and his joints no longer function as they used to. He is old, tired. Not much later the Torah informs us that “Moses was 120 years old when he died; his eye was not dim, and his force was not abated" (Deut. 34:7). How can Moses be at once old and ailing and vital and energetic on the other?

There is a powerful lesson here about self-deprecation verses revealing the shortcomings of others. I have no doubt Moses was full of fatigue and weary from many life-long struggles. He lived through tumultuous and painful times. Orphaned in a reed basket, Moses knew the courts of Pharaoh. He lost all that royalty in a pique of righteous indignation. The king-cum-shepherd was then coerced into becoming the great liberator of his people only to endure hardship and trial through the next forty years. No wonder he was tired!

Yet, it is not fitting for others to tell how weak the aged leader had become. It serves no good purpose to degrade another human being even if we are just agreeing with them! Lashon ha-ra, is often translated as gossip. But what if the lashon ha-ra is really true? Said for no reason other than idle chatter such statements are inflammatory and evil. Lashon ha-ra does not have to be a lie. It may be true! Its truth or falsehood is irrelevant to the fact that negative statements about another person should not be uttered.

Rashi explains that he means: he is no longer was able to maneuver in Torah. In other words, the wellsprings of Torah have been closed to him.

In addition to the physical fatigue and strain that Moses felt was also a sudden shift in leadership. The transfer of the mantle of leadership from Moses to Joshua was also happening now. The appointed successor to Moses was carefully instructed and trained and then brought into his new position to ensure a seamless transition. That could not have been easy for Moses.

Rashi, in fact, makes mention of the pain that Moses must have felt when Joshua moved into his place. He informs us that the Lord had also begin to transition from one leader to the next. Rashi is relying on an ancient midrash.

The Yalkut Shimoni cites: Moses went to visit Joshua in his tent. Joshua peered out from the folds of his home, saw Moses coming and ran out to greet him. Together they went to the Tent of Meeting. In the past the Holy One, blessed be He, would reveal to His faithful servant what needed to be done. On this occasion, Moses walked to the left of his servant, Joshua. This was sign that Moses was moving away from his key post.

When the two arrived at the Tent of Meeting the Shechina fell not on Moses, but Joshua. When the Will of the Lord was revealed to Joshua the two men exited together. Moses inquired, "What did the Lord God tell you?" Joshua replied that just as he did not share with him what God had said to him, Joshua would observe the same silence.

Moses was aghast, horrified. With this one exclusion, Moses felt his world begin to collapse all around him. For Moses this was the moment when age crushed his spirit like nothing else in all his years. The pangs of being left out and jealousy overwhelmed Moses. It was, he claimed, worse than one hundred deaths!
The feelings of another human being- even if we view them as steely characters with no signs of aging or cracks are all vulnerable.

Perhaps it is important to read this parasha as the New Year dawns and as we get ready to approach our Maker and ask forgiveness. It all begins with sensitivity.


Haftara Insight:
This is Shabbat Shuva. We are directed by Hosea to return to God, reform our behavior and ask the Lord for forgiveness. Wedged between Rosh Hashanna and Yom Kippur we are told to become introspective and assess who, or what, we have become. Hosea furthers this idea by warning us not to place our trust in the powers other than the One. God alone is the source of our salvation.
A Matter of Law:The mitzvah of writing a sefer Torah appears in this parasha. While most of us are unqualified to write a Torah we are still obligated to do so through the hands of others.
30:1-2 is not a done-deal. Teshuva is a force that moves earth and heaven The power of repentance redeems and even potentially changes the course of history.

Nitzavim: All of You

The parsha includes the compelling and slightly enigmatic phrase, "all of you who are standing before me today."

The Talmud has a fascinating interpretation for this pasuk. It says that both the body and soul will be held accountable to the Holy One in the aftermath of life. The soul cannot claim that it was coerced and the body also has no excuse for its actions. Here is how it phrases the idea:

A blind man and a lame man are hired by a farmer to watch his precious crops. The owner forbade them from eating any fruit. Yet, when the crops were harvested there was a paltry yield. The owner was suspicious. The two watchmen claimed they took nothing. How could they?
The blind man said, "It was not me. I cannot see!"
The lame man said, "It could not have been me. I cannot walk!"
The owner then placed the lame man on the back of the blind man and punished them together.1

Pirkay Avot takes another tack. It pronounces that no person should ever cut themselves off from a community. 2 What it observes is that all of us are an entity, an organism. We have a responsibility toward one another that stems from this Torah portion. Rambam further emphasizes this idea when he states that when a person cuts themselves off from the body of Israel and does not feel their pain or experience their joy totally severs his connection from them in the world-to-come as well. 3

The connective tissue that binds us must be inviolate. That is what all of you- in the parasha means. More specifically, it means – all of you - throughout all time.

Note that the Israelites are standing at the border of Israel. That is the precise location where they find themselves as the Divine command comes to them. The word stand is pivotal. Like the Amidah that we recite, which also means standing and is the same root word as here, the Jewish nation is poised to enter into the holy land. They stand – this exact word is used -before they cross over.
Likewise, each Jew needs to be focused and at attention when about to make any upward spiritual movement. Crossing over to a higher spiritual level is not simple and usually does not come without effort. We must try to approach God. Aliyah means ascending and one cannot go up without expending energy.

"All of you" also degrades any social standing. Any arbitrary or contrived social ladder is destroyed when taking into account the body of the people. Every member of the Israelites is vital. From the water-carrier to the kohen gadol each member is counted and needed. There is not a single person person that is expendable because they do not have the education, or breeding or money that others can claim. --All of you -- means that God needs every one of us especially the ones who stand at the margins. Remember that the vaunted Elijah may be one of them….

Midrash also reflects on the idea of Moses incorporating all those who stand before him this day. Later, Moses goes on to elaborate that even those who are not present. How can it be that if everyone is present, someone might be missing? Midrash answers that the call of Moses is to unborn generations. Those yet to come –you and I and the many generations in between were also part of the assemblage. 4

Those who move are comprised of flesh and blood. We are people given the task of conquering the world. Continually moving to conquer new realms we are rarely still. Yet, in another realm, those who stand still are the angels. That is why when we pray we place our feet together during the kedusha and do not budge from that place. We are imitating the angels on High who sing Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh to the glory of the One.

Idea: When we commanded to stand we are being asked by the Eternal One to imitate the angels. Perhaps it is intentional that we read this parsha before the Holy Days. On the first of Tishray we are to try to become as perfect before God as possible.

1. Sanhedrin 91b
2. Pirkay Avot 2:5
3. Laws of Repentance 3:11
4. Tanchuma and Sforno


Haftara Insight:
Despair gives way to excitement and rejoicing as this Haftara reading practically shouts outs in exuberance. No longer will there be any mourning. In its place will come flowing and abundant love. No longer silent we will send our message of hope and deliverance to the world.
Jerusalem will rejoice. Even its walls will convulse with song. Powerfully, Isaiah tells us for the sake of Zion to never be silent again!

A Matter of Law:
The mitzvah of writing a sefer Torah appears in this parasha. While most of us are unqualified to write a Torah we are still obligated to do so through the hands of others.
30:1-2 is not a done-deal. Teshuva is a force that moves earth and heaven The power of repentance redeems and even potentially changes the course of history.

Devarim: The Postcript

What is in a name? The book Devarim, Deuteronomy, takes its name from the second word of the book. Hardly a descriptive title of the contents of the text—all it means is 'words.' An older name for this fifth book of the Bible is Mishneh Torah, Repetition of the Torah. It has that name because the entire book represents the final speech of Moses which reviews the history of the Jewish people under his leadership.

In fact, the Talmud agrees that Moses, not God, was the author of this entire book of Devarim. While not disagreeing with the masters of the Talmud, the later Tosafot add that Moses was clearing operating under the Ruach HaKodesh, the Spiritual Force of Heaven, when he delivered this speech. With a scant thirty-six days to live, Moses carefully crafted his words to his extended family, the Israelite nation. It would contain the most poignant reminders of their experiences throughout forty years of wandering.

Moses does not spend time dwelling on the events of the Exodus. Instead his focus is more narrow, and what he does not say is at least as interesting as what he does in his talk.
This book Moses can be divided the book into three essential parts. They are a harsh rebuke of the people for their behavior, a recapitulation of the primary mitzvot which would guide the nation, and a review of the covenant between the Holy One and the Jewish people.

The Vilna Gaon went so far as to say that each of these three segments corresponds to the three preceding books of the Torah. The covenant covers the second book, Exodus, where God takes this nation and gives them the Torah. The mitzvot are enumerated by the next book of the Torah, Leviticus, while the rebuke covers Numbers.

What can we learn from the talk? Ramban gives us a hint. He writes, "These words of introduction and reproof extend until... the verse 'Observe His laws and commandments, which I enjoin upon you this day, that it may go well with you and your children after you, and that you may long remain in the land that the Lord your God is assigning to you for all time' (4:40). Moses then called to all of Israel who were before him and said, 'Hear O Israel, the laws...' and began explaining the Torah, the Ten Commandments."

Moses has learned a powerful lesson about human nature after leading the Jews for so many years. Experience has a short shelf life. People do not remember miraculous events or life-changing moments. They absorb the actions of that time and then move on to more pressing needs like food, raising the kids, making a living…. That is why Moses does not dwell on the interweaving of God into history in this testament to his life with his people. Instead, Moses focuses on the responsibilities of the nation, the punishments for acting outside the boundaries of law, and the enduring nature of this relationship.

Question: Everyone is seeking deeper meaning from life. Is it possible to be spiritual without first knowing what God wants from us?



What about hutzpah? Is it hutzpah to include the words of Moses into the Torah alongside the words of God? None of the Sages seem to think so. They believe that the Holy One, blessed be He, wants our involvement, our holy hutzpah. The worst crime we can be guilty of is ignoring God. The proof this comes at the conclusion of the Torah when God writes the epitaph for Moses. He states, “There was no prophet that ever arose in Israel as Moses.” God approved of Moses reiterating His message.

Moral: God wants us to be engaged.

And speaking of prophecy, Moses, we know, is acclaimed the greatest prophet that ever lived. Yet, Ramban, as we saw above, said that Moses was operating under Ruach HaKodesh when he spoke the entire book of Devarim. Is there a difference between prophecy and Ruach HaKodesh? There is a significant distinction between them.

A prophet is elected by God. They are not self-appointed and they usually do not strive to find the favor of God by becoming His emissary. The opposite is usually true. Someone operating under the Ruach HaKodesh actively seeks God. They hunger for the connection with the Divine.

When Moses tells the Israelites his message of their ongoing journey without him as their leader he is speaking not through his prophetic ability but with his Ruach HaKodesh. Moses, unlike all those before and after, possessed both gifts. Not only did God speak through Moses to the Jewish nation but the soul Moses wanted even more of God. Perhaps then, that is why the final book of the Torah is endowed with great sanctity and is appended to the previous four despite the fact that it was delivered by a man of flesh and blood.

Idea: Ruach HaKodesh is the open heart toward God. The door is available to all.


Haftara Insight:
In every court case there are the litigants on each side; each bringing their own witnesses. In the instance of Israel, the prophet informs us that God will accuse the people of wrong-doing, if they are not scrupulous about their actions. When that great trial commences the earth and sky will be called as witnesses by God against us.Isaiah uses this imagery to warn us that there is no thing we can ever do that will be hidden from the eyes of God. We must always behave as if we will be called to account for what we do.

A Matter of Law:
The Torah portion opens with a number of obscure names which many sages throughout time have been hard-pressed to explain. It is ultimately Rashi who reveals that each place name is intentionally opaque. They are the places where the Jews had sinned in the desert. Why then are their names hidden? To teach us that once a person has done something wrong we do not remind them of their past sins.

Mattot: The Legacy of War

How painful is the reading this week! That the Israelites were given instructions on making war against the Midianites is at once heartredning and difficult to understand. After all, everything that we learn from biblical instruction is antithetical to the idea of war.

We are told to emulate Aaron, to use a single example. Aaron always endeavored to make peace between feuding people and groups. Further, so many of the prayers we utter beseech God to send us an era when there will be no war. We pray for the Messiah who will release man from such pain. The prophets exhort the people to stop hating each other. What then are we to make of these laws that tell us to fight against the Midianite nation?

Were the laws to preserve the good people from the clutches of those who would destroy them? Certainly the cultures that surrounded the Israelite were worse than immoral, they were amoral. They had not gripes about child sacrifice. They were unconcerned with brutal force being used against the weak. That which is evil had become good; acts of goodness were construed as evil. Was the only response to this utter disregard for human life to wipe them out?

Moses was ordered to dispatch 12,000 men to the front; one thousand men from each of the twelve tribes. We can only imagine the absolute pain of this leader, Moses, who had fought so hard to preserve human life throughout his career.

The Torah indicates the rationale for the war in an earlier biblical segment: The Lord spoke to Moses, saying, "Oppose the Midianites and attack them, for they opposed you with their wiles with which they beguiled you in the matter of Peor and in the matter of Kozbi, daughter of a prince of Midian, their sister, who was slain on the day of the plague on account of Peor (Numbers 25:16-17).

Perhaps the reason for waging war against the Midiantes was the survival of the nascent Jewish people. Could the Torah be speaking of the inability of the Israelites to morally conquer the Midianites? Had the Jews met them perhaps the Israelites would have turned their back on God and enwrap themselves in the ways of this evil nation? If this is so, consider how different the world would be today if God had not commanded the attack.

Think: Cannot we simply let people who think differently than we do (nations that torture their own people, rampant acts of brutality in subcontinents, murder camps for learning how to kill) live their own lifestyle? Is not religion about improving oneself and refraining from judging others? The way of peace is the way of letting others choose their own path, is it not? In Kings II, 15:16, a tale is told of a wicked despot, Menachem of Tirtzah, who attacked a town killing all the males and splitting open all pregnant women. What then? Is the rationale for fighting against evil to change the world for the better or at least protect the weak? Is it to stop the rampages of those who inflict pain and subjugate others? Defend the innocent from those who would use and exploit them?

Both reasons are correct. If we do not attempt to stop evil, it will eventually overtake us. We will ultimately become that which we hate. There is also the moral imperative that we are to champion the cause of the defenseless. As the past Prime Minister of Israel, Golda Meir once said, “To be or not to be is not a question of compromise. Either you be or you don’t be.” At a time when we are confronted with evil, equivocation serves the purposes of the enemy. Perhaps the world ought to have learned this lesson at the time of the Holocaust. Or the Armenian genocide. Or Pol Pot. Or in Rwanda. Or in Darfur…..Yes, we have a responsibility to fight for the lives and wellbeing of others. We are “our brother’s keeper.”

The passage from this week also reveals, through the great teacher Rambam, that even when fighting an evil tyrant, you must never attack on all four sides. There must be an escape route for those who do not wish to fight. What does this say about the war on evil? That we are to allow them an escape route?

There is no getting around the issue that while we are taught the moral duty to fight against evil there is always the potential that we can become what we dread most. By waging war we may come to like the perverse notion that we enjoy hurting others. That is perhaps why we are also directed to not indiscriminately hurt those who want to flee conflict. And later, when we come to Deuteronomy 20:19 we will learn that a campaign that deforests tracts of land is also forbidden. The idea of the Torah is that at all costs we must preserve our own humanity, even while fighting evil. Perhaps this concept is best put by Golda Meir. “I can forgive the Arabs for hating us. I can forgive them for killing us. What I can never forgive them for is making our children into killers.”




Haftara Insight:
The great election of the prophet Jeremiah is told. Called upon by God, Jeremiah feels unworthy. God answers him by saying that he makes no mistakes. He is far more capable than Jeremiah recognizes or is willing to acknowledge. The Lord then spells out to His servant what He wants him to do. While the words are intended for Jeremiah they really speak powerfully to us.

A Matter of Law:
Words, vows, promises bear great legal weight in Judaism. When we say we are going to do something it is critical that we fulfill or word. Else wise, one brings their reputation, their people, and God into disrepute. Words are never so simple meaningless as to have no bearing on others or the universe. If one makes a vow and cannot do it they must seek release from the Court of Law. There are two kinds of vows: shavua and neder. Both are referred to in the great service of Kol Nidre.

Bamidbar: Counting on Faith

Numbers.  It sounds like a CPA’s dream.  In Hebrew we call it Bamidbar, which means “wilderness.” The older name for the book is Sefer ha-Pekudim, the Book of Gatherings.” While this new book of the Torah does contain the tallies of Jews in the desert it reaches far more deeply than just a census.

For example. The first born in many families, maybe all, excites the parents.  This introduction of new life is so novel, it borders on the sublime.  God tells each family that they must redeem their first-born. Why?  Precisely because each family pins hopes and aspirations on this child.  Who knows if they will be blessed with another?  Great pains are taken to find just the right name that will help determine the character of the child.  Love is lavished on him.  Blessings are pronounced and his every cry is attended.  

Then God tells us, “He is not yours.”

The family must then redeem the child from God teaching a powerful and profound lesson about ownership and possession.  Such redemption announces that even life is tentative and that we need to be mindful that there is a greater power than us.

To this day we practice Pidyon ha-Ben, the exchange of silver to redeem the first-born.

For example. The Children of Israel must pass through the midbar, a brume of clouds, sun, rocks, sand and scorpions in order to obtain their objective of the Promise Land.  They trekked for forty years through that barren landscape.

Is this not kike our lives? We grow, challenge, make foolish mistakes, pay handsomely for them, and then finally grow to the stature of maturity? It is our own sojourn through a personal wilderness that eventually makes us worthy of entering our promised land. How long did we wander?  Twenty years? Fifty?

For example.  Each family among the numbers was responsible to help transport the Mishkan, Tabernacle, and its various appurtenances. They carried the holiest items where the Jewish people talked to and worshipped God.

How often we become carried away by trivialities!  We lie awake at night worrying over bills.  We stress about our children or parents.  We argue endlessly about the same things day after day, (which is usually about who wields power).  The Torah is gently reminding us that these things should not be the focus of our attention.  There is something far for worthy and meaningful.  Carrying the mishkan or cleaning the shul is far more meaningful and rightly prioritizes life’s demands.

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Davar Acher

The Torah reading for this week, the fourth book of the Bible, contains a census. The details of the parasha are parceled out deliberately as the Torah means to clearly delineate each of the tribes. The tribes are painstakingly separated both in name and in fact. Imagine the twelve tribes sorted out by their relationship to one of the sons of Jacob. Each took their place next to their sisters and brothers and cousins. Then under a specific banner they were singly counted. Every name is mentioned. Then they were supposed to march tribe by tribe into the Promised Land of Canaan.

What was supposed to happen and what actually happened are two different tales. In fact, the Israelites were bothered by their new freedom. Yes, bothered. The change from slave to freeman was too great a transition for them to make. That is why the complaining about water and food and the missing elements from Egypt began almost immediately after liberation. Perhaps the biggest act of rebellion was when the people bought the “lie” of the spies. The quarreling over whatever the issue was not at the heart of the problem. The real problem was a lack of trust.

Rabbi Ovadiah Sforno commented that had the Jews accepted the direction from God; had they believed and maintained their belief in the God that liberated them, fed them, gave them Torah they would have marched right into Israel. The enemies of the land would have scattered at the sight of them carrying their tribal banners. Instead, doomed to wander for a full generation, the Israelites entered Canaan under Joshua in a different fashion.

When the next generation of Israelites crossed into Canaan they were not counted. The names were not specified. Only the heads of the tribes are mentioned in the Book of Joshua. Why the difference? Because, tells Sforno, the Israelites lost something when belief left them. Instead of defining themselves through God, Torah and trust they defined themselves by other external criteria. They worried about the Canaanites. They agonized over food. They argued about water. The identity of the Israelites came from disbelief.

An analogy. When Adam and Havvah met the snake in the Garden, the snake convinced them that the fruit of the forbidden tree was better for them than the other one. They took it. With that act, the two primal beings were sent into exile. Much later, Moshe would confront the nemesis of the Jewish people, Pharaoh, and defy him. Moshe showed the power of God as he exercised control over the serpents of Pharaoh. He grabbed the tail, trusting in God, and the snake became a staff. This act of faith was the beginning off the end of the exile for the Jewish nation.

The snake is an emblem of trust or disbeleief. No wonder later generations conceived of the snake as the yetser hara, the evil side, because it had the power to sway humanity into exile...but it also had the power to redeem it.

We can transform any act into something else with the necessary tool of faith. In fact, the gematria – numeric value – of snake is the same as messiah. In other words, an end to the ultimate exile will be granted when we each take the serpent by its tail - an act of faith.

Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk, the Kotzker Rebbe, was a challenging Hassidic master. The Kotzker demanded an absolute, personal search for truth. Listen to his words:

"If I am me because you are you, and you are you because I am me, then I am not me and you are not you. But if I am me because I am me, and you are you because you are you, then I am me and you are you."

In the final analysis, we must be accountable individually. We are responsible for ourselves. When we have the necessary ingredient of life, faith, God counts us, loves us, and declares, “Now you are a whole person.”




Haftarah Insight:
Hosea does not give up. Faced with a painful life - a woman, his wife, who abandons him and the desolation of having been abandoned for another - Hosea maintains his faith. Despite all she does, Hosea believes in the power of love, return and redemption. In much the same way, Hosea teaches us that God does not give up on us. He still loves, believes in our potential and awaits our return. "You are the children of the Living God!" the prophet proclaims.

A Matter of Law:From this Torah parsha we derive the idea that people are never to be counted. If a census needs to be taken we use the method devised by the Torah itself, we count possessions - shekels here - not souls. The law is extrapolated to even refusing to count the presence of ten for a minyan.