Bamidbar: Stand Up And Be Counted
When you’re in the middle of a war-of-sorts, it’s somewhat striking when the parsha of the week begins with a military-style census. This is not an incidental aspect of the sefer. There are actually two censuses in Bamidbar, one in the beginning and one in parshat Pinchas. Chazal even call Bamidbar “Chumash HaP’kudim” which literally means the Book of Countings (see, for example, Menachot 45b). In the Torah world, names express essence. So what’s the deeper meaning behind this census?
What does pikud mean? Not necessarily to count. Ramban explains pikud as placing attention and guidance over something. We see the word in Bereisheit 21:1, when Hashem ‘remembered’ (root word, pakad) Sara. The result was that Yitzchak was born. We could also look at Esther 2:3, “And let the king appoint (same root, pakad) commissioners to all the provinces of his kingdom.” When Hashem commands Moshe to lift up Bnei Yisrael through this process and to count us, it is a not simply counting. It is a spiritual accounting.
Each person who was counted was lifted through the process of connection to his unique place. That place was defined in many ways. We were counted not just individually by our names, but also according to our families, our households, and later also according to our shevet, the degel we traveled under in the desert, and as part of the entirety of klal yisrael. Each person possesses not just a unique name, but also a unique place in our family, in all the different circles of our community and in the nation as a whole.
Avraham was told to leave his land, his birthplace, and his father’s home. As an individual, he created our nation. As that nation prepared to re-enter the land Avraham was promised, we were asked to stand up and be counted as an intrinsic part of that nation. We were asked to recognize that each individual has a unique tafkid, mission (also from the root pikud) within the nation as a whole. We were uplifted by recognizing our place as individuals within the community.
The Zohar adds to this idea by equating the number of Jews to the number of letters in the Torah. Every Jew is connected to a letter in the Torah. That letter has a unique kedusha on its own, but also a kedusha that comes from being part of a word, part of a pasuk, part of a parsha, and part of the Torah as a whole. Each letter is also a vessel filled with light. As we’ve mentioned before, the Torah that we have in this world is a vessel that holds the light of the completely spiritual Torah of the higher worlds. In this way, the Torah is similar to our souls. It has both a revealed section, and a very deep inner essence. Each of us can draw vitality from our connection to a letter in the Torah. The point of the census was to connect us back to our source in the Torah, and to appoint us guardians of the kedusha that belongs uniquely to us.
This was accomplished by standing individually before Moshe and Aharon. As Ramban points out (Bamidbar 1:45) standing before Moshe was no small thing. As the greatest of prophets, he was uniquely able to be “the seer” who could identify the individual spiritual mission of each person that stood before him. Moshe stood together with Aharon: the giver of the Torah, together with the Kohen Gadol. Together, they identified for each person their unique aspect of Torah to embody, and their unique avodah to perform in the world.
There is a tremendous zechut to being willing to stand up and be counted as an individual within the whole. We each have our own mission, and part of that mission is our connection to the community around us. Each year before Shavout, Hashem sends us a message through Parshat Bamidbar. The Torah was given to Klal Yisrael when we were united, and the ideal way to be united is to be counted together, as individuals within something greater.
At the moment, some of us are fighting on the front lines. Some of us are davening from far away. Wherever we are, we are all connected. We all have something to contribute. May Hashem bless us to be able to stay connected. Together may we welcome in times of peace and health.
Shavout: Listening. Just Listening.
So here we are, erev Shavout, and our avodah is to prepare to receive the Torah. Rav Schorr points out that this is easier to do if we understand exactly what it is we are receiving. After all, what we got is not what the angels wanted us to receive.
The Gemara (Shabbat 88b) describes how the angels protested when Hashem gave Moshe the Torah. They were okay with Hashem giving us the mitzvot. But the highest levels of the Torah? The Torah that is black fire written on white fire? How could something so holy, so sublime, be placed into the hands of man? Moshe is afraid to respond to the angels. But Hashem replies, “Grab onto my Throne of Glory, and give them an answer.” This is an intended pun. Rav Shorr points out that the word Hashem uses for answer is teshuva. The answer Moshe is meant to give the angels is teshuva, repentance.
Moshe’s ultimate response is that in a certain sense the angels are right. We can’t earn the Torah based on our ability to be perfect. The source of our spiritual strength is not our perfection. The source of our spiritual strength is our ability to return to our roots. Our souls are connected at their highest level to the kisei hakavod. Just as we are one, from the lowest parts of ourselves to the highest, the Torah is one as well. We are connected to it on all levels.
This is the essence of our celebration of Shavout. We did not exactly get the receiving of the Torah perfectly right the first time around. There were two spiritual ‘crowns’ which we had for a small period of time at Har Sinai. And then we lost them through the sin of the Chet HaEgel. The first crown was na’aseh, the level of action of the angels. We intrinsically knew the right thing to do, and automatically did it. Clearly, we don’t have this ability anymore. But we do still have the ability to return to our source. Teshuva means there is always another path to where we need to go. The path is longer than it once was. It may take a while, but we can learn before we do. And we can still achieve the state of knowing what Hashem wants us to do in this world.
The second crown at Har Sinai was the crown of ‘nishma.’ This did not mean learning in order to do, because as we mentioned, we had no need for that at Har Sinai. This was a different kind of listening, a kind of listening that even the angels do. It is described in Tehillim 103:20, “to listen to the kol in His dibbur.” It is listening to the kol, the voice of Hashem.
A kol, a voice, is different than the dibbur, the words that are said. Words are what happen when the kol is divided up into different parts and movements. But the kol itself is the inner essence of speech, the source of the speech, that comes from a higher level. There is one level of spirituality which involves being able to hear what Hashem wants us to do and then following that command. There is also another level of spirituality which builds on the first. It is the ability to listen for Hashem’s presence within the words, and within the actions that we do.
Hashem is always communicating. His kol fills our world. We no longer hear this voice automatically. But Hashem is still communicating to us. This year it seems possible that Hashem is communicating a little louder than usual. I think this year, I’d like to try to focus on listening to Him. I’m not sure what I’m going to be learning or doing exactly this Shavout. But what I would like to do is remember that our superpower is teshuva. Spiritually, we can always find another way to get where we need to go. It would be great if we could get to a place where we can hear what Hashem is trying to tell us.
This year, I would like to suggest an experiment. Choose a moment when you are involved in following the dibbur of Hashem, either through learning or doing a mitzvah. Use that moment to breathe in and experience the pleasure of the breath Hashem gives us. And then listen. Pause for a moment, and connect to Hashem’s Presence in whatever way feels meaningful. Perhaps for a moment we can regain a bit of the crown of ‘nishma.’
May we all be blessed with a meaningful, beautiful, and peaceful Shavout!