Skip to main content

Miles from NoWhere

Yep, time to start a new book. We just finished Vayikra, wrapped up in a tidy little package all those laws about sacrifices and the like (well, not so tidy – see last week's Pshat!), and it's time to move on.

But, to where? Where are we going? And where are we now? Oh, yeah, those last couple of parashiyot of Vayikra reminded us that, despite all the emphasis on the MIshkan and, by implication, its permanent successor, the Beit Hamikdash, we are still firmly planted at Mount Sinai. And standing (and sitting, and camping, and waiting) at Sinai, we are still dreaming of returning to a land that returns to each of us every fifty years. Marching instructions? None, yet. We're still stuck in the middle.

Indeed, Josh, my weekly Ramban chevruta, adamantly insists that we are still in Vayikra, still in a process that began toward the end of Shemot and won't come to a conclusion until Hashem "gets those doggies movin'" in Beha'alotecha, where one of B'midbar's three books – the "good" book – comes to a close and another – the "bad" book – slaps us in the face. Until then, we're still in the midst, says Josh.

All of this is true. And yet: we begin a new chumash, one which, though difficult to characterize, with its difficult to grasp interplay of narrative and halachic material - is different from Vayikra from the get-go.

So, let's start from that beginning. Here's the first verse of Bamidbar:

"And Hashem spoke to Moshe in the desert of Sinai on the first of the second month in the second year of their going out from the land of Egypt, saying..."

Last week, Hashem spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai. Now, it's the DESERT of Sinai? Is that the same place? The people haven't departed the mountain yet, so it must be. Yet if so, why change the reference from "mountain" to "desert"?

The key is to be found in the word "spoke". The place reference isn't referring to where the people are, but to whence the Divine voice emanates. Until this point, Hashem has spoken to Moshe from the top of Mt. Sinai. Now, in Bamidbar, the Divine voice comes to Moshe from between the two keruvim almost-embracing atop the aron, as promised by Hashem way back in Parashat Terumah.

The date noted in this passuk confirms this: the first of the second month. Now the entire Mishkan was made operational on the first of the FIRST month of the second year – that's the date of the passage in chapter 8 where the mitzvah of Pesach Sheni is given. ("Wait a second", you ask – "why does a passage dated "1/2/2nd from Egypt" precede one dated "1/1/2nd from Egypt"!! Ah, good question! See Ramban square off with Ibn Ezra on this question – coming up in a couple short weeks!) With the Mishkan up and running, Hashem speaks to us from that special point He's chosen as His Dwellingplace in our midst.

But why the SECOND month? Why do we not hear Hashem's guidance and instruction from that place right away upon the completion of the construction of the Mishkan? Why wait a month? The Kli Yakar has a beautiful insight. He says that since Hashem was not to "take up residence" amongst us as a "temporary lodger" but as a "permanent resident", Now permanent residence – dirat keva – is only established after a full month of residence. Only when one loony cycle of waxing and waning, of hiding and reappearance, of tzimtzum and hitpashtut is complete can the relationship proceed on a basis of trust in process. "Mommy's gone to the store but SHE'LL BE BACK", are words which reassure not only the toddler but the parent as well. Hashem wanted to reveal Himself to us from the perspective of Eternity – a perspective we didn't merit even at Mt. Sinai.

When Hashem move IN, Mt. Sinai, with all of its ephemeral florescence, the lights, the sights, the shakes and sounds and smells – reverts to desert by comparison. The nourishment, the richness, the sustenance – all comes through the channel He has establish "b'toch" – in the midst – of individual, family, tribe, people…universe. That is why, says the Or HaChaim, that midbar in our verse precedes ohel mo'ed. Just as with the designation, where the particular precedes the universal – date precedes year – likewise, and almost counterintuitively, with place: The spiritual singularity of bein shnei hakeruvim, that forever-point bounded momentarily by non-touch of the beating wings of the celestial beings approaching embrace even as they are solidly mired in the thick gold of the atonement cover – that singularity is expressive of the everflow of the The Oneness – and the desert, in all its apparent generality and receptiveness, an unmarked canvass upon which our people will paint its journey in colors of forty years and Shabbat portions, is but a particular waiting to become actualized.

As did our ancestors before us, we wander the deserts of our lives, causing them bloom with meaning by the dripping sweat of our grandest visions and apocalyptic fears. That expanse is as transversable, that bloom is as real as we allow the bein hakeruvim point to be in our lives. When we see and experience the Yes that Hashem says about us and pours into us on every level, then even in the desert, we are miles from nowhere!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The One (People) Who Must Not Be Named

Just as Balak brings Bil’am to consider his enemy from various vantage point, likewise does Parashat Balak allow us to view ourselves from the vantage point of others. The main story in Balak is of a single piece, and Am Yisrael appear only as foils for the central story – the interaction of Bil’am with Hashem. What is curious is that not only does Am Yisrael not appear as a real character in the story, we don’t even get a mention. Every time Balak or Bil’am refer to Am Yisrael in the non-visionary passages, they employ indirection: “this people”, “my enemies”, but never Yisrael. It almost feels that they are avoiding speaking the name, one which Bil’am, at least, employs so beautifully in his prophetic speeches. Now, recalling that this story of the interaction of other nations with Am Yisrael is being told in the Torah, I think the message is this: Yisrael is our name in the context of our covenantal interactions with Hashem, just as Hashem’s real name is used only in the conte...

My G-d, a Navaho?

--> Shabbat Shirah, it’s time to sing. Standing on the edge of a Red Sea that has returned to its roiling nature, drowning the fleeing, terrified Egyptian charioteers, Am Yisrael is ecstatic and, with Moshe, breaks into song. They sang in unison a song that welled up from a prophetic vision of redemption that, our sages tell us, outstripped even the visions of Yechezk’el and Isaiah, both of whom “saw” Hashem enthroned on high. The song so permeated the very fabric of being that it is introduced with the imperfect mood of the verb – Az Yashir Moshe… “Then Moshe will sing”, as though the song is every ringing in the background of our Jewishness. So what did they sing? Pure poetry, and therefore, as difficult to feel confident in parsing as it must be even to attempt to imagine what they were feeling at that moment. And yet, we reprise it every day in our morning prayers, as part of Pesukei D’Zimra. Every verse of this song is fit for deep reflection; I’ve chosen...

The Mishkan as an Instance of Tzaddik

I was speaking last night with Yonatan Neril, a student at the yeshiva with a keen interest in exploring the nexus between Torah and environmental consciousness. We were discussing a seminar he will be giving, G-d willing, in the Bat Area in the next few months. He wanted to present Ya'akov Avinu as a model of environmental consciousness, focusing on two episodes of his life as depicted by the Midrash. The first is the famous image of Ya'acov at the Yabok, preparing for the encounter with Esav and, having crossed his family safely over the river, goes back for pachim ketanim , little flasks, seeming worthless given the danger hovering over Ya'acov, yet, as we are told, the righteous prize their few possessions, since they attest to the fact that they have studiously avoided theft. Variants of that Midrash tell us that the contents of those small vials was olive oil from the branch presented by the dove to Noach and preserved during all the intervening generations. The o...