By Rebbetzin Lauren Levin
As we approach the festival of Shavuot and think back to the bliss and inspiration of receiving the Torah, all appears sweetness and light (especially with a mouthful of cheesecake!). When the Jewish people recited in unison ‘we will do and will listen’ their faith seemed complete; they had absolute clarity and trust in God. Yet for many of us, without the revelation of Mount Sinai palpable in our minds faith is a more complex affair.
Rabbi JB Soloveitchik’s treatise ‘the lonely man of faith’ resonates with many of us: “It is thus extremely apt that this Shabbat, on the eve of Shavuot we begin the book of Bamidbar. The book opens with God commanding Moses to carry out a census. This is not the first time a census is carried out. Why is there a need to count the people again now? Why is this the first topic of the book of Bamidbar? It hardly fills us with anticipation and excitement. Unless there is something more to this counting than meets the eye…
The commentator Ramban (1194-1270) contends that the census is all about pragmatics. God commands a census to be taken as one of the first steps required in getting ready imminently to enter the Land of Israel and become a real nation. It is no coincidence that the directive is given to count only males over 20 who “would go out to war” (1:3). The census is followed by seemingly tedious lists detailing who the heads of each tribe were and the order and layout of the various tribes when travelling. These are also necessary in preparing for their entrance into Israel. The country’s leadership will have to assume many more roles of responsibility. Similarly it is critical that everyone knows the layout of the camp so as to ensure that they travel in a dignified and orderly fashion.
This reading of the census and the topics that follow completely transform the way we look at Bamidbar. Indeed, suddenly each and every new paragraph seems to carry another purpose in preparing the camp for its imminent task. Rather than a series of dry and haphazard lists and roll-calls, each topic is imbued with anticipation, pride, and took the nation one step closer to fulfilling their destiny: nationhood in Israel.
Yet this honeymoon will have a bitter end. Very soon, the euphoria will give way to tragedy. The Jews will be condemned to wander for 40 years in the desert. As such, Bamidbar is the rollercoaster book, a book of failed dreams and long road to rehabilitation. Perhaps that is what makes me read it with such empathy each year: in some way all our lives have a rollercoaster element. At this point our mantle as readers is to sit on the edge of our seats and roll with the excitement at each juncture. Only if we truly appreciate how close the Jewish people were to achieving their historic dream, will we feel the depth of the crash when it ends in disaster. And then we will be able to fit this template of peaks and troughs into our lives and know where to turn for inspiration to ride the waves.
Faith has never been easy; not even for those Jews went through the Mount Sinai experience. Yet as Lord Sacks writes: ‘faith is not certainty but the courage to live with and for God in the presence of uncertainty and to hear the voice of God even in the heart of the whirlwind’.”