Bamidbar

By Dan Cohen

(May 6, 2024) Parshat Bamidbar 2024 - Where everyone knows your name 

Cheers was the most popular TV show of the 80s. Its theme song captured the alchemy that happened when its ensemble cast gathered each Thursday night. 

“Sometimes you want to go, Where everybody knows your name,

And they're always glad you came; You want to be where you can see,

Our troubles are all the same; You want to be where everybody knows your name.”

In that bar, in those moments as a group of individuals, there was a place where you could find your people, your presence was essential, and your appreciation of the importance of others was required. 

The fourth book of the bible, Bamidbar, begins with a census. In Chapter 1, Verses 1 and 2, it says: 

“The Lord spoke to Moses in the Sinai Desert, in the Tent of Meeting on the first day of the second month, in the second year after the exodus from the land of Egypt, saying.

Take the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel, by families following their fathers' houses; a head count of every male according to the number of their names.”

Rav Hirsch says this census, two years into the exodus, was to reflect the new national reality. We were a community joined by a common calling, yet all members were to be counted independently. This combination made clear to our national leaders, then and now, that our community isn’t just an idea; it’s made up of actual individuals. 

At the same time, individuals were made aware that each counts as an essential member of the whole community.  The task of the individual and the larger whole is a shared commitment to serve and have Emunah in Hashem. 

In verse 2 above, the Torah describes THAT each individual is counted. Hirsch clarifies that the people's unity emerges from HOW we are counted. First, we are individuals. Then we form families, the families form tribes, and the tribes form the House of Israel. 

He adds that this is what makes us unique among the nations. We are all called Bnai Israel, the children of one man, Jacob, who was renamed Israel by Hashem. Our national identity is rooted in the journey from being individuals to being a part of something much more significant, echoed in the census. This ensures that we stand not as an abstract notion but as a unified entity of individuals connected across the millennia. 

Despite our national size, we are rooted in one house, with our hearts and souls aligned and facing one destiny. We also remain particular in the specialties of each tribe, like fishing, commerce, learning, or farming. Together, we share a common goal to educate our children and serve Hashem. 

Seth Godin wrote a book called Tribes. As a marketing genius and educator, he was focused on how people form new tribes today that echo their passions.

Godin wrote, “A tribe is a group of people connected to one another, connected to a leader, and connected to an idea. For millions of years, human beings have been part of one tribe or another. A group needs only two things to be a tribe: a shared interest and a way to communicate.” 

This description represents our fundamental human need to connect to each other and something larger. 

In the TV show Cheers, whose theme song we quote above, the idea was that the bar housed a tribe of individuals brought together in search of friendship. The leader was a charismatic retired baseball player. Together, the cast of actors shared their lives and a common language of insults laced with love. 

The idea goes one step further at the annual Burning Man festival in the Utah desert. Each time I see the aerial image of the Burning Man camp, it is possibly the closest I can imagine to Bnai Israel camping in the desert.  

At the festival, the massive multitude gathered in the desert to form their own tribes, called camps. For the duration of the celebration, one can camp with individuals who are joined together by common interests, hobbies, or preferred methods of intoxication. Each camp must also deliver something of social value to the entire community. The spirit of service is embedded in their means of celebration.

Yet the Burning Man tribes are ephemeral.  At the end of the festival, folks return home to their lives, and many wait all year to be resettled with their tribe. 

Here is why you are so lucky as you enter the world. 

You already have a tribe. You are part of something larger, the Jewish people, and your unique role and contributions are essential to its survival. In this Parsha, Hashem restates the duality of the nation's reliance on each of you and your dependence on the nation. 

Yet, as Godin says, you live in a world where it is easier than ever to “find your tribe.” Your tribes may consist of video game players, youth ambassadors, army pals, Swifties, whiskey lovers, or just a group of friends that gather to talk and insult each other with love. As you seek out the tribes to fit your passions, you are blessed to already be a member of one with a rich history and divine destiny.

Roof Comes up at Ma'oz Tzur Synagogue, Harvest

Roof being fitted on the Synagogue.

(May 5, 6 2024) It has been over a month since the building of Ma'oz Tzur's synagogue began. The coming of the early monsoon rain has been quite a challenge since it can and has disrupted the progress of work to be done. It came to a complete halt when cyclone Remal struck the eastern part of India last week. Heavy rains accompanied by cyclonic winds wreaked havoc in the region bringing with it floods, mudslides and untold miseries. At least one B'nei Menashe home was swept away by a landslide in Aizawl, capital of Mizoram. Ma'oz Tzur was no exception to this severe weather phenomenon but thankfully, it was spared the damages the nearby surrounding areas had to endure. The synagogue stands on the highest point in the small settlement. The foundation is built of stone and concrete with wooden frames, chipped bamboo walls and red tin roofs. In keeping with the spirit of conservation, the material used are, as much as possible, locally sourced keeping in mind to have the minimum impact on the surroundings. Menashe Kipgen, the administrator has proudly told our newsletter no trees were felled for this project. He continued, "we consciously chose a spot where there would be no need to clear trees." Despite every challenges, the residents hope to complete the synagogue by Shavuot.

Ma'oz Tzur children show its bounty.

Wild mushrooms, a gift from nature.

In another encouraging development, some of the crops planted earlier this year were ready for harvest, yielding pumpkins, cucumbers, cabbages, coriander, onion, beans etc. "There is no joy greater than eating something that you have planted with your own hands", said Sara Haokip, a resident. These are small steps towards Ma'oz Tzur's eventual goals of self-reliance and sustainability both in terms of food and environment . Apparently, there are many others that grow wild that can be foraged from the land. Depending on the season, residents have a choice of various herbs (some claim to have medicinal values) that grow wild, plenty of bamboo shoots and even mushrooms. The best part about these vegetables is that they grow wild and hence organic in every sense of the word. Isca, another resident, tells our newsletter, "There is a certain aroma in these vegetables from the wild that makes it very special that no commercial grown one can ever equal. I am a child of these hills, I know it".

Bekuchotai, Parashat HaShavua

By Dan Cohen

(31 May, 2024) Parsha Bekuchotai 2024 - Breaking Up with Hashem

Can you break up with Gd?  If you do, how might one go about it? Would you even notice you were doing it?

The parsha this week teaches what will happen if we don't follow Hashem’s mitzvot. Many commentators focus on this lack of engagement and performing mitzvot as a gateway to separating oneself from Hashem.

My journey to and through a life of Judaism and a relationship with Hashem has been long and windy.  At times, mitzvot mattered to me. At other times, mitzvot mattered much less.  

But when I think about what was going on deep down, my Emunah in Hashem didn’t waver much. I always knew he was there, but I needed a break.  Or, in dating terminology, it wasn’t him; it was me.

Rav Hirsch lived at a fascinating time. Jews across Europe weren’t just rejecting their tradition and their mitzvot; many were looking to a life without Hashem—or at least a life that radically changed our national notion of Gd and his role in our lives. 

How can an individual or a section of society move in that direction? After all, our faith in Hashem sustained us through millennia and various exiles. It bonded us as a community and strengthened us when things were bleak.

In Chapter 26, Verse 14-16, we read, “But if you do not listen to Me and do not perform all these commandments, and if you despise My statutes and reject My ordinances, not performing any of My commandments, thereby breaking My covenant then I too, will do the same to you;”

This is heavy stuff. Measure for measure, as we often describe the reward/punishment scale with Hashem. If we ignore him, he ignores us. If we reject, he rejects. 

So, what is the path to this rejection? Here’s how Hirsch describes it. 

If we begin with the idea that our faith in Hashem makes us whole, what kind of mental and spiritual gymnastics does it take to decide if his rules don’t apply or if he may not exist?

First, he says, “hearken” in our verse doesn't just mean to heed or obey. It implies something more profound: a failure to listen to the Word of God. This manifests itself when one must first neglect the study and knowledge of the Torah.  Rashi describes the cause and effect as saying when a man does not learn, he then does not do. Therefore, the first outcome is the byproduct that we don’t practice mitzvot, partially because we don’t know them.

Second, the gradual and intentional departure from Hashem continues when one who doesn’t know or observe is still bothered by his conscience. Hirsch says that the individual will justify this rejection of mitzvot and Hashem in the name of “progress.” He will look down on mitzvot as antiquated. 

This is starting to feel like the wicked child all over again. What does this mean to you? To me?

Third, since others are observing mitzvot around the individual who is not, he might feel like their behavior is indicting him. He then has two choices. To accept that indictment or to recast himself as superior to the others and look upon them with contempt.  

I recognize this behavior, have seen it in others, and even fought it in my reactions to Jewish life. It's so easy to project whatever unease we may have about our choices and behaviors onto the actions and choices of others. This is true across every facet of our lives and choices. 

Rav Taragin at the Gush shared an analysis by the Sfas Emes on the parsha that discusses this behavior in detail. After all, the world offers us many options, choices, and behaviors that do not align with Gd's expectations and mitzvot. It's easy to imagine a person thinking that a world of pleasure and possibilities awaits him if he throws off the shackles of ethical and divinely directed behavior. 

This plays out, especially among mitzvot, which take more work to understand. It's so easy to dismiss these mitzvot flippantly, especially if one is inclined to want distance from mitzvot. Hirsch adds that these same people think the mitzvot limit the “sensual” opportunities in our lives - food, human interactions, and freedom of movement. He may feel that he’s “liberated” himself from these strictures.

The rejections and defections continue.  In verse 15, we read, “if you will despise my statutes…” 

After one journeys through ignorance and contempt, the detractor must project his displeasure onto the institutions that bind us together in communal life. These are the Torah scholars, educational institutions, and others charged with helping keep us faithful. His hate for the Torah turns into hatred for teachers and leaders of the Torah.

After rejection comes intolerance; these same individuals may lean on this hatred to become radically intolerant at every opportunity. After all, he does not respect the Torah or those who adhere to it. Therefore, he might actively obstruct its observance, thinking he is acting for the good of mankind. His dislike of mitzvot now demands that he no longer considers the observance by others as valid.

The final step requires the individual to break what binds him to the covenant with Hashem. He must deny Hashem’s very existence. He must choose to dim the same light of Hashem or his Gd-awareness must be extinguished. Only then can he find any rest and peace. 

According to Hirsch, the journey an individual must take goes from ignorance to rejection to indictment to missing out to contempt to breaking, once and for all, with Hashem. 

Rashi says these steps follow each other. (There are) “seven sins, the first leading to the second, and so on, until the seventh, [and the process of degeneration is] as follows: [First, a person] does not learn [the Torah]; then, he [subsequently] does not fulfill [the commandments]; he then despises others who do [fulfill them]; then, he hates the Sages, prevents others from fulfilling [the commandments], denies the [authenticity of the] commandments and [finally] denies the very omnipotence of God. 

To me, this holds two lessons for each of you.  

As you find yourself along this path, pay attention. Instead of sliding along frictionlessly, choosing one of these steps (sins) after the other, stop and notice that you are on this path and ask yourself why. Noticing may be the best tool to understand any feelings of contempt or rejection you might be experiencing.

I’d also encourage you to apply these tools to notice and understand everything else in your life. This may mean investing, on purpose, in relationships with people, your job, the government, or even yourself.  

If we aren’t careful, our minds can quickly take us through the seven steps of rejection that Rashi outlined. If we don’t stop and pay attention, we may reject things we love in the name of progress we don’t believe in.

ReplyForward Add reaction