By Rebbetzin Lauren Levin
Parshat Be`haalotcha is divided into two parts: the first replete with excitement and hope preparing to enter the Promised Land. The second part is taken up ‘firefighting’ one petty issue after the next, overshadowed by negativity, anger and despair.
The first part closes with a dialogue, and then a monologue, and the second part begins with a monologue and is followed by a dialogue. It can be summarised as follows:
C Conversation between Moses and Jethro (dialogue) 10:29-32
D Moses’ Mantra (monologue) 10:35-36
D The nation’s distress (monologue) 11:1-6
C Conversation between Moses and God (dialogue) 11: 11-22
By using this chiastic mirror structure we are compelled to contrast the two parallel sections. By emphasising the form of communication at the cusp of such change in the Israelite camp, it makes us question whether communication was at the heart of the errors that were to cost a generation their dream of entering the Promised Land.
Both dialogues present emotive responses from Moses that we seldom see. In the first, in a rare display of emotion, he shares with his father in law Jethro his excitement for the imminent journey to the Promised Land, manifest through his multiple use of the word ‘good’. He is keen for Jethro to be part of the golden future that is coming their way.
By contrast in the second dialogue, Moses frustration and near despair are palpable. He has heard the people crying in their tents, remembering the delicacies of Egypt with rose tinted glasses, lamenting the lack of meat and being sustained on manna. Whereas when they began to complain we read: “The people were looking to complain, and it was evil in the ears of the Lord…. Moses prayed to the Lord, and the fire died down.” Now Moses’ response is different: “The Lord became very angry, and Moses considered it evil”. This time it is the word ‘evil’ that repeats in his speech. A far cry from the golden future of the previous dialogue.
What has caused such significant change? How has the whole atmosphere transformed so rapidly? The chiastic structure draws us in to the meeting point of the two sections: the monologues. The first monologue is the faith infused mantra of the greatest prophet who ever arose for Israel , who would declare when the ark journeyed “Arise, O Lord, may Your enemies be scattered and may those who hate You flee from You”, and upon its return “Moses would say, Arise, O Lord, may Your enemies be scattered and may those who hate You flee from You.” Such ritualistic ceremony (which we still say unto this day when taking the Torah in and out of the ark) was a way of preserving the honour of the ark, so that its moving did not become a mundane logistical removal, but one emanating regalia and majesty. In addition as the Jewish people were moving into a phase of fighting for themselves, it reminded them of God as their true Source of strength.
And yet this triumphant chant gave way to toxic rumblings of dissatisfaction, which were not specifically communicated to anyone, but rather formed their own sort of monologue. The wistful nostalgia for Egyptian delicacies reads more as a rant to whoever might listen; a lament to be voiced and heard, rather than discussed. Was the faith imbibed by Moses’ mantra at the travelling ark so short lived? Or were they not all with him on the journey? We are not told of any response to his utterance. It may well have been more of a ‘live broadcast’ than an interactive ‘zoom’ with participation and feedback. Maybe there was a dissonance between his anticipation excitement and B’nei Yisrael’s anticipation anxiety. They may have even interpreted his mantra as toxic positivity. In his euphoria, they had remained grounded with worry, which supressed, morphed into unrest.
Two monologues that sit side by side and tell such different tales. And without direct communication, each was unaware of the totality of the feelings of the other. Perhaps this can explain to us the dramatic way in which Moses turns to God asking to die rather than endure the trauma of leading such a nation. He can feel the charged atmosphere becoming dull, the dignity of an organised nation crumbling and the imminence of the Promised Land slipping rapidly into the distance.
This era of social media offers more ways to connect with others than ever before. Yet the data on how many people describe themselves as lonely is still remarkably high. Social media can offer supportive platforms but can also deprive us of real connection. Connecting with other people’s lives via their Instagram reel is tantamount to the danger of the monologue. The timeless heartbeat of civilisation is communication. Deep, meaningful, authentic conversation, replete with disagreement, struggle, joy and everything in between.