Parashat Naso is the longest parashah of the Torah – 176 pesukim - curiously, the same number of verses as in the longest of the mizmorei tehillim – Psalm 119. AND the same as the number of pages in the longest masechet of the Gemara – Bava Batra. Usually Naso is read after Shavuot, and it's always either immediately before or after the chag. Thus the length has been explained as connected to the freshness of Matan Torah – we just can't get enough of that sweet stuff!
But a look at the content of Naso, especially the latter portion, might call that into question. It's true, technically, that Naso is the longest, but it achieves its length by an apparently unnecessary repetition of the details of the sacrifices brought the the Nesi'im – the princes of each tribe. Twelve times we read exactly the same details – "His sacrifice: one silver bowl, one hundred and twenty [shekel] its weight…" etc., etc. While there are other passages which feature repetition, in almost every case there is some feature of the text which is varied each time the passage is presented, bidding us to look more deeply into what is being hinted at by the variation. But here – the precision is almost monotonous. Other than the names of the princes and the tribes they represent, there is no variation, no detail that changes along the way. Why would the Torah spend so many verses saying something that it could say is one simple statement: "Each prince brought…"?
Ramban addresses the question by noting that it would be impossible, in receiving the donations and offering the animals as sacrifices, NOT to give precedence to one tribe over the other, since sequence and order is an inescapable feature of our finite world. In order to alleviate any feelings of disrespect or inadequacy, each nasi was given his turn in the sun.
But there's still a problem. If I know that I'm the sixth one in line to do the same exact – to make the same exact gift, to say the same exact thing, then I will feel that, while it is new for me, the one receiving the gift and my words is growing weary and bored. I will experience the tension between what I, as newbie, feel, and what I assume the recipient is thinking and feeling. And the problem not only will not be solved, but it may be exacerbated, as I resent the "ceremonial" nature of an act emptied of meaning by repetition. How princely could Achira ben Einan have felt knowing he was bringing exactly the same thing as the eleven who preceded him?
But when the recipient, when the listener, is Hashem, this no longer is an issue. When I know that the one I am speaking to is beyond time, then I know that my being there at that moment is not assessed in relation to a before and after, but only on the basis of the degree to which I am really doing and being what I claim to be doing.
Each nasi was then treated to an "audience" of the One who is eagerly awaiting with full newness what he might be bringing and saying, knowing it has never been done or said this way before.
We are called upon to 'imitate" the Divine – just as He is merciful, so shall we be merciful, just as He is compassionate, so shall we be. But how do we begin to emulate the ability of the Infinite one to constantly renew?
Moshe is treated to the answer. At the end of the twelve-fold litany, after stock is taken of all the donation, there is appended a curious verse which constitutes the final verse of Parashat Naso:
"And when Moshe came to the Tent of Meeting to speak with Him, he heard the Voice speaking-with-itself to him from above the atoning-cover which is upon the Ark of Testimony, from between the two Keruvim, and He spoke to him."
All of this conforms to what we were told to expect in Parashat Terumah, in describing the function of the Keruvim mounted atop the ark, except for one small detail. A single dot. The Hebrew word for "speak" in Terumah is in the Piel construction, with a dot in the ”bet" but no dot in the ”dalet". Here, there is also a dot in the "dalet", converting the word to the Hitpael construction (The "tav" of the HItpael is absorbed into the now-doubled dalet). That construction is used to indicate reflexive, self-referential activity.
Moshe, then, does not hear a voice speaking to him, but rather, THE VOICE speaking-to-itself - - - to him! But wait! Only crazy people speak to themselves, right? And we're not crazy enough to imply that Hashem is, G-d forbid, crazy!
But the truth is that all speech is BOTH an act of communication and self-revelation. Every time we talk, we're talking to ourselves, realizing ourselves, struggling with ourselves, working out some issues and getting entangled in a host of new ones. We speak ourselves into being whether we are conscious of that or not. And Hashem, the Ultimate Consciousness, is always"speak himself into being" and making that coming into being present and available to the other" in a way which honors the other with the fullness of His Presence, so that when He listens, that other knows he is being heard and is moved himself to speak from his depths, and know the newness in a word or an act that has just been done a thousand times before.
But not by me. Not right here. Not in this way. And not in the presence of "I Am Becoming Who I Am Becoming".
Hashem allows us to give to Him what can't possibly not be His, and cherishes it from the always newness which is His Being. THAT is a gift fit for a prince!
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