By Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D.
SAN DIEGO — It’s not often that a d’var Torah I write begins with the words of Rabbi Steven S. Wise, but this week’s parasha Bamidbar, read the week before Shavuot, is one of those times. In 1905 he said, “Help and respect can come to a people only through self-help and self-respect.” Let’s explore this.
Many commentators note Bamidar’s messages of humility, of being open-minded to Hashem’s source of wisdom and knowledge wherever we walk, of walking as in the wilderness and understanding that we have no power to act without the flow of life from Hashem, yet we walk with self-reliance. In this week’s Torah reading, we learn of the Israelites’ journey through the wilderness and their organization into a structured society, reflecting our need for structure and orderliness. The journey through the wilderness is a metaphor for the human journey through life, with its twists and turns, challenges, and obstacles.
In a sense, we are all living in the danger of the wilderness, in a desert filled with obstacles, achievements and failures. We are surrounded with our bitachon in Hashem, and by our loving family, friends, fellow congregants, esteemed teachers. And yet, we do our “hishtadlus,” our own self-help, whether it be for parnassa, shidduchim, health and sustenance. After all, it is in the wilderness where our ancestors encountered Hashem and where our Torah is revealed. And we can do the same. Keep in mind the opportunity the parasha teaches us comes in the vulnerability of the wilderness, that we see in the Torah. The lesson inside is that the Torah is best acquired when we humble ourselves, as we do in the vast expanse of the wilderness.
Perhaps we all need the uncertainty and adventure of a wilderness from time to time to create a strengthened appreciation for life, and to recognize the opportunities we have in tough times to learn, mature, grow spiritually and develop our inner strength and self-reliance – necessary for our survival, anchored in mutual dependence and respectful relationships, one to another. Medical science tells us how important it is to spend time in nature. The wilderness, nature, brings with it the opportunity to see, learn, try new things, write new stories, and strengthen our link to the awe we see in the handiwork of Hashem.
To help organize and provide focus to people amid a vast expanse of open land, the parasha tells us of Hashem’s command to Moshe to take a census, not just to count (some of) the people, but perhaps more importantly to help assure that people know they count and for us to remember that every human being has an important contribution to make. Moshe must’ve been thrilled about the assignment to count 600,000+. Who doesn’t love counting thousands of people moving about in the middle of a desert, right? But wait. It gets even better. We’ve got different tribes of Israel all jockeying for position and arguing about who gets to camp where. It’s like a game of musical chairs, except instead of chairs, it’s tents, and instead of music, it’s complaining.
Of course, the counting of the Israelites teaches us several important lessons about living well. Firstly, it emphasizes the importance of community and unity. The Israelites were counted as a group, with each tribe and family being recognized and valued. This teaches us that we would best strive to build strong relationships with those around us and work together towards common goals.
Secondly, the counting reminds us of the importance of individual responsibility. Each person was counted and had a specific role to play in the community. This teaches us that we’d better take ownership of our actions and strive to make a positive impact on the world around us.
Finally, the counting emphasizes the importance of spiritual growth and development. The Levites were counted separately and given specific responsibilities related to the service of Hashem. This teaches us that we’d be wise to prioritize our spiritual growth and strive to deepen our connection with Him.
Both the parasha and the holiday of Shavuot involve counting. In the parasha, we learn of the importance of counting each person, and on Shavuot, we complete the counting of the 49 days of the Omer, a time during which we’ve prepared to receive the Torah on Mount Sinai, “as one man, with one heart.” Each day in our lives brings with it a matchless chance to increase our commitment to Hashem, the Torah and His mitzvot.
An observation in this parashah is the degalim (banners/flags) described in the second chapter. Each three-tribe grouping carried its own unique banner. The Midrash describes that twenty- two thousand chariots of angels bearing degalim attended the revelation at Mount Sinai.
In Bamidbar, the tribes camped in the wilderness, “each man by his division with the flag of their fathers’ house.” Rashi explains on this point, “Every division shall have its own flag staff with a colored flag hanging on it, the color of one being different from the color of any other.” We all need to feel a sense of belonging to a larger good. Each tribe had its own leader, its own place to camp, its own color and flag, and its own representative stone on the breastplate worn by the High Priest. With this strong sense of belonging to something, they were able to discover who they truly were, their purpose and focus on their contribution. How important today is it to belong to a welcoming, warm, and open kehilla that celebrates everyone, donors, daveners, doers, and those who sit in the back row still deciding? “One heart” does not necessarily mean being the same as others, as much as it means being strong enough and supported enough to be a part of things with one’s own uniqueness.
When we place Hashem in the center of our lives, we count. Rashi tells us that His counting of us is an indication of His love for us. We weren’t just counted though. The Sfas Emes teaches that the root of the word, pekudim, the census numbers, also means assignments. We were given our sense of value, the role we were to play, and told of our place in this world, giving us a sense of order.
Our guidebook, our Torah, is our “GPS” system (“Gratitude, Positivity and Sensitivity”) to help us through the challenges of life – from pandemics, politics, and relationships, to finances, and health. We learn the value of faith, daring, modesty, appreciation, and not taking anything, especially our health, for granted. Certainly, a key requirement for understanding and carrying out Hashem’s word, is humility. After all, Moses is described as the humblest person on earth, we receive the Torah in a desert on the lowest of the mountains, and Hashem speaks to Moses from a lowly burning bush. It seems the message is that it is in the midst of a wilderness that we can more easily awaken to a life filled with Torah, and more easily disavow a life filled with greed for toys.
The Sfas Emes (Rabbi Yehuda Aryeh Leib Alter, 1847-1905), tells us the same root of midbar, daled-bais-reish, can mean “to lead.” If midbar can mean this, to lead, it teaches us that as we followed, we trusted whom we were following in the wilderness. We entered the wilderness with the belief that we were free to put our trust fully in Hashem. The Sfas Emes also teaches us that just as the Torah was given to us in the lowly wilderness, a place of void, we too need to see ourselves similarly, egoless, in order to spread the light of Torah. The lesson inside is that the Torah is best acquired when we humble ourselves, when we are “ownerless,” as we are in the vast expanse of the wilderness. It is also, according to Reb Nosson’s teaching, that only when there is achdus, when we are all encamped together, all accounted for, that the Torah is complete. One letter missing means the Torah cannot be read. We are each a letter.
The Israelites may have needed guidelines for whom to include and whom to exclude from the census described in Bamidbar, but we would be wise to remember why even those not counted in the census do, in fact, matter. Today we may count every individual in our community but may still discount how much they have to offer. The missing members in this Torah portion can teach us to reconsider what it really means “to count.” As the numerous stories in the Bible and in our lives remind us, even those not included are important, and all those we now seek to include, genuinely are individuals with much to gain from and offer to our communities. This weeks’s parasha really comes to teach us that we are all in this together, that we all count, and that although there was a census taken of only specific people, everyone counts.
This Shavuot may our study of Torah and keeping it alive, together, as one family wearing a coat of many colors, be filled with love for one another, and may we experience the revelation at Sinai as a communal event of strength to strength. Let us shine our uniqueness to the best of our ability while serving Hashem as individuals…and as a peaceful, loving, and positively contributing part of Klal Yisrael.
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Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun. He may be contacted via michael.mantell@sdjewishworld.com