Rabbi Neal's Weekly Commentary

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’alotcha

“The Lord spoke to Moshe, saying:  Speak to Aharon and say to him, ‘When you mount the lamps, let the seven lamps give light at the front of the lampstand. . . .’ “(Bamidbar/Numbers 8:1-2)

Good evening! For those who just celebrated the holiday of Shavuot, I hope you had a wonderful and inspiring holiday. The weekly Torah reading rolls on (as it were) through the book of Bamidbar, or Numbers, so called for its theme of counting and organizing the Israelites as they prepare to go on their journey.

Last week, the portion ended with a dramatic scene: 12 princes, one from each of the 12 tribes, brought gifts of gold and silver for the dedication of the Mishkan. This week, the portion opens up with the commandment for Aharon and his sons- the priests- to light and maintain the menorah, or lampstand, in the Mishkan, as part of their daily duties.

In the Torah text itself, there is no particular connection of the narrative of the dedication to the giving of additional laws pertaining to the service in the Mishkan, but our friend Rashi brings an older midrash which sees the commandment to light the menorah as a consolation to Aharon, the High Priest.

Rashi’s comment goes something like this:

“Why was the section [of the Torah] pertaining to the menorah connected to the section of the princes? [who each brought a gift for the Mishkan in the previous chapter.] When Aharon saw the princes doing the dedication [of the Mishkan], his spirits fell, because he was not with them in the dedication- not him and not his tribe. So the Holy One said to him: ‘by your life! yours is greater than theirs, because you will light and maintain the menorah! ‘ “

Remember, the tribe of Levi was separated from the other tribes, set apart for religious service to the community. So Aharon didn’t get to bring a gift of gold or silver, but according to the midrash, he was consoled with the idea that  the merit of his deed was even greater. Other commentators suggest that the menorah was assembled, lighted, and cleaned every day; this was not a dramatic act of great ceremony, but a quiet act of inner dedication and humble service.

What’s striking about the story Rashi brings is that Aharon, as High Priest, does all kinds of important rituals and is a great public leader among the Israelites. He even atones for the entire community on Yom Kippur, going into the Holy of Holies, where nobody else is permitted to enter! Given Aharon’s very prominent role in the life of Israel, the idea that simply lighting the lamps is of such importance reminds us that small acts which benefit others can be more important to the religious life of the community than even gifts of gold.

Think for a moment about a typical synagogue: there are countless small tasks that keep it going, from organizing the Torah readings to ordering the cakes and cookies to overseeing the budget and maintaining the building. Many of these tasks are true gifts of love performed by volunteers, often without recognition or public appreciation. What Rashi reminds us is that the merit of giving of oneself is great indeed, and should be honored greatly.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright Neal Joseph Loevinger 2010

Torah Portion: Beha’alotcha

Beha’alotcha has the Israelites preparing to leave Sinai. There are instructions for how to break camp, carry the Mishkan, and travel in formation, but as soon as the Israelites go into the wilderness, complaining and rebellion begin. At the conclusion of the portion, Moshe has a sibling conflict with Aharon and Miriam, for which Miriam is punished.

Greetings! I’ve been at the Rabbinical Assembly conference in New York, where there was much light (and some heat), appropriate for the week of Torah portion Beha’alotcha, which begins with the commandment to Aharon to light a lamp in the Mishkan or portable Sanctuary. The Mishkan also contained the Ark of the Covenant, which was usually carried along with the other implements of the Mishkan by various families of Levites. (Cf. Bamidbar ch. 4)

Ok, so far, so good, but in our Torah portion this week, we read that Moshe made a prayer that the Ark of the Covenant would go in front of the camp:

“They marched from the mountain of the Lord a distance of three days. The Ark of the Covenant of the Lord traveled in front of them on that three days’ journey to seek out a resting place for them; and the Lord’s cloud kept above them by day, as they moved on from camp.

When the Ark was to set out, Moses would say:

‘ Advance, O Lord!
May Your enemies be scattered,
And may Your foes flee before You! ‘ ” (Bamidbar / Numbers 10:33-35)

Those familiar with the morning synagogue service will recognize this verse- at least the half quoted above- as a congregational prayer, usually sung, said right as the Ark is opened and before the Torah is taken out. This connects the story of the Biblical Ark, or aron, which contained the tablets of law given to Moshe, with the story of Torah and the very scrolls in front of us. In this understanding, the Torah scroll is like the tablets given to Moshe, containing words handed down through generations.

The problem is: didn’t we just learn, earlier in chapter 10 (verses 12-21) that the Ark is carried by Levites after the tribes of Yehudah and Ruven? How can Moshe pray that it goes first to scatter enemies? How come it’s traveling in front in these verses but in the middle in verses 12-21?

Various commentators struggle with this contradiction, and explain that there were two Arks (one for the first, broken tablets, and another for the second set)  or this was a one-time exception. Modern Bible scholars assume that these two traditions reflect different historical sources of the text, yet the Torah as we have it includes both images- Ark in front, and Ark in the middle of the camp- for our contemplation.

The brilliance of taking this verse and putting it into our Torah service is that it connects the idea of journey with the routine religious act of taking out the Torah for its weekly readings. We may not be shlepping through the wilderness, but we are- as individuals and as a community- on a journey, one from spiritual constriction (= Egypt) to spiritual liberation and full responsibility for ourselves (= land of Israel.) The Torah “goes in front” when we seek in Torah discourse the challenge to take the next step along our way; the Torah is “in the midst of the camp” when we recognize that Torah (broadly conceived) is what holds us together and gives us common purpose and destiny.

When we open the Ark- in Beacon, Biloxi, or Bozeman- we sing the words of our ancestors on their journey because we hope that the Torah’s message of love and justice will break apart- scatter- the hardness of the heart and enable us to go on our journeys with faith and courage. “Advance, O Lord”- and let us go forward together.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’alotecha

This week’s Torah portion and haftarah both speak of lighting the
lampstand in the ancient Temple (which is one of the links between the
two texts) and I have to say it’s an appealing image after a mostly
cloudy and dark week here in the Hudson Valley.

The Torah portion is B’ha’alotecha, which has many topics and laws,
but begins, as noted, with the commandment to Aharon, the HIgh Priest,
to light a seven-branched menorah [lamp] in the ancient Sanctuary. The
haftarah, from the book of Zecharia, lived at the end of the period of
the first Exile (about 538 BCE) and conveys a hopeful message to the
Israelites about the rebuilding of Jerusalem and a re-lighted menorah
in Jerusalem’s Temple. That’s also why this haftarah is read during
Hanukkah- so if after reading this commentary you have a craving for
jelly doughnuts, now you know why.

There’s another interesting set of images in the haftarah, concerning
the High Priest of the day, who the prophet sees as dressed in filthy
clothes, standing before the “Accusing Angel,” who is in turn rebuked
by an “angel of the Lord:”

“Now Joshua was clothed in filthy garments when he stood before the
angel. The latter spoke up and said to his attendants, ‘Take the
filthy garments off him!’ And he said to him, ‘See, I have removed
your guilt from you, and you shall be clothed in [priestly] robes.’ “
(Zechariah 3:3-4)

One commentary suggests that Joshua, the High Priest, represents the
spirit of the nation in exile- that is, as I understand it, the
“filthy robes” are the condition of humiliation and alienation of a
defeated people. The “Accusing Angel,” then, is that natural human
tendency to say: because of their sins, they deserved their suffering,
and do not deserve redemption.

According to this reading, that harsh view of history is what is
rebuked by the “angel of the Lord.” The High Priest, representing the
people, is to be clothed in new garments- that is, given a new spirit,
a renewed confidence and sense of moral purpose. Note, please, that
the “angel of the Lord” doesn’t tell us why Joshua deserved his new
garments, but that’s the way of Divine hesed [lovingkindness]: it
forgives, takes back and reconciles without needing to answer all the
objections of “the Accuser”- that is, the impulse to keep account of
every misdeed and failing.

Sometimes it seems that the loudest voices representing “religion” are
those of strict judgment- self-appointed keepers of public morality
who claim to speak for God and never miss an opportunity to do so in
front of a microphone. The prophet Zechariah, however, gives us an
entirely different perspective: it’s the Accuser who is rebuked, while
the orientation of the Divine is seen in the “new garments,”
representing the redemptive act of disregarding previous failings in
order to renew covenantal relationship and lift up the people in love.
That, to me, is a truer message of prophetic religion, one applicable
to individuals and nations, in the past and in this very day.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’aloteha

In any event, this week it’s full steam ahead in the Torah portion
Beha’alotcha, which has many and varied laws and narratives: the lamp
of the Mishkan, the “second-chance” Passover, grumpy and complaining
Israelites, prophets among the people, and a bit of a family conflict
between Moshe, Aharon and Miriam- the “first family” of the wandering
Israelites.

This sibling squabble occurs at the end of the portion, and it’s not
exactly clear exactly what happened, but the basic idea is that Aharon
and Miriam said something uncharitable about Moshe (and maybe his
wife) and as a rebuke, God punishes Miriam with “tzara’at,” or the
sort of scaly skin disease that is commented on at great length back
in Vayikra/Leviticus.

Moshe, to his credit, prays for Miriam’s recovery using just a few
short words in Hebrew, in a verse which has been incorporated into
many prayers and liturgies. (Cf. Bamidbar/Numbers 12:13). Connecting
this story with a contemporary mitzvah practice, we may note that
several traditional sources say that praying for a sick person is an
essential part of bikkur cholim, or “visiting the sick.” Moshe wasn’t
exactly visiting Miriam, as such, but his response is nonetheless
deeply moving; at that moment of crisis (emotional, physical,
theological) he put aside any personal issues and offered his
compassion in the best way he knew how.

By praying for the sick, we are not necessarily relying on miracles or
a suspension of the laws of nature to take the place of modern
medicine. Rather, I see prayer as part of strengthening and lifting up
the whole person and defining them as more than their illness or
symptoms. To put it another way, illness can be demoralizing, and
deeply felt prayer communications connection, dignity and love freely
offered. Prayer on behalf of the sick says: “I care about you so much
I’m going to bring your pain into my relationship with the Holy One,”
and this in itself gives strength to the spirit.

That’s why prayer is such an important part of visiting the sick, to
the extent that some commentators say you haven’t done the mitzvah if
you haven’t prayed for them.

Returning to our Torah portion, we note that Moshe prayed for Miriam
using only five words- demonstrating that prayer doesn’t have to be
poetic, alliterative, metaphorical, rhetorical, elegant or literary.
It has to be honest, heart-felt and real in the moment, and when it
is, hearts are connected and made strong.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’alotecha

Shalom and blessings!

Tthe following drasha appeared as the “Rabbi’s Corner” of the June
issue of the “The Voice,” which is the monthly newspaper of the
Dutchess County Jewish community; it’s based on this week’s parsha but
the message applies for the entire month

With that, let’s turn to the Torah portion Beha’alothecha, which among
other stories tells us a little about two fellows named Eldad and
Medad. It seems that these two men were having some sort of spiritual
experience in the camp of the Israelites, speaking in
prophetic words, and this caused a bit of a commotion, because the
people had previously seen only Moshe speak as a prophet. Yehoshua
[Joshua], Moshe’s second-in-command, perceived this event as a threat
to Moshe’s status, but Moshe himself saw the bigger picture: prophecy
was not a zero-sum game, but something which would lift up the
community. Moshe rebukes Yehoshua, saying “are you zealous for my
sake? Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, with the Divine
spirit upon them!” [Bamidbar/ Numbers 11:25)

What impresses me most about this story is Moshe's recognition that
that spiritual leadership is never restricted to only one person.
After all, earlier in his tenure he had learned to share the judicial
and managerial tasks with other elders in the community, and now he
sees that even prophecy is not his task alone. It would have been easy
for Moshe to agree with Yehoshua that these "upstarts" should be
stopped in their tracks, thus preserving his position as the sole
source of revelation for the community. I see both wisdom and maturity
in his graceful answer that God's spirit should be upon as many people
as possible.

Dutchess County is not the only Jewish community which needs broader
participation in Jewish leadership- I'd say that Jewish communities
all across North America are seeking people to serve on boards, help
develop creative new programs, raise funds, teach children, lead
minyanim [prayer services], help formulate community policies,
originate new ways of reaching out to others in compassion and love. .
. the list of leadership opportunities would fill pages. Yet in order
to develop new leadership, we have to be more like Moshe and be
careful of reacting like Yehoshua- it’s much easier to preserve “turf”
than to nurture the untested and different ideas that new voices
leaders often bring to the discussion.

I saw a powerful example of “Moshe-attitude” a few months ago at a
breakfast of the Poughkeepsie Area Chamber of Commerce, where I had
been invited to give the opening prayer. One might think that a
Chamber of Commerce would be the place where established businesses
seek to consolidate their ties and shut out competitors, but instead I
witnessed an amazing encouragement of the newest entrepreneurs and the
smallest business, who were introduced to the other Chamber members
with applause and heartfelt welcome. Newcomers were seen not as
threats, but as participants in the task of building up a thriving
community- it was inspiring.

If only Jewish institutions welcomed Jews the way the Chamber of
Commerce welcomed the newest painting or printing business! If only we
could say “would that all the Lord’s people were prophets”- or
participants in classes, volunteer projects, prayer services, boards,
and innovative gatherings. To welcome all Jews means to welcome the
ideas they bring with them; to open wide our doors means seeing each
person as a fellow builder; to be like Moshe means to recognize that
none of us owns our institutions, committees, or projects, but only
safeguard them for a little while until they are passed along to the
next generation.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’alotecha

Greetings! It’s summertime, otherwise known in Judaism as “the Season
of Reading the Stories of the Israelites Kvetching.” That is, we’re
reading the book of Bamidbar/ Numbers, in which there are numerous
stories of the Israelites (and even Moshe and his family) complaining,
rebelling, questioning, being fractious, etc. Then again- traveling is
stressful enough, never mind with 600,000 of your closest friends, and
going through a wilderness, no less.

With that thought- on to parshat Beha’alotecha, where indeed, we find
an episode of the Israelites complaining in the desert:

“The people took to complaining bitterly before the Lord. The Lord
heard and was incensed: a fire of the Lord broke out against them,
ravaging the outskirts of the camp. The people cried out to Moses.
Moses prayed to the Lord, and the fire died down.” (Bamidbar 11:1-2)

We learn just a few verses later that the people are craving meat
(apparently manna gets boring after a bit), and it’s not hard to
imagine their anxiety and fear of the unknown turning into complaints
about their present situation. It’s a bit harder to grasp why God sent
a “fire” against the complainers, rather than addressing issues of
faith or confidence more directly, but perhaps the “fire” is really a
metaphor for anger or how bitter rumors can spread like “wildfire” in
a community.

Rashi quotes an earlier text to explain why the people approached
Moshe after the fire broke out:

“The people cried out to Moses. . . . This can be compared to a mortal
king who became angry with his son. That son went to his father’s
friend and said to him, Go and ask [forgiveness] on my behalf from
father.”

On the one hand, this is a fairly straightforward allegory: the king
is God, the son is the people Israel, and Moshe is the king’s friend.
If it were a human being who was angry with his (or her) friend or
family member, then it makes perfect sense to send a message of
reconciliation through a trusted intermediary, since one might assume
that the angry person wouldn’t want to listen at first, or might even
become angrier when seeing the object of his anger in person.
Yet taking Rashi’s little allegory seriously, and imagining the
scenario in human terms, poses a problem when applied to the
human-Divine relationship, namely, didn’t the people think that God
knew already about their prayers and penitence? Why did they ask Moshe
to intervene – after all, if God could see their suffering in Egpyt,
the Holy One could certainly perceive their penitence in the desert!

My sense is that the Israelites, who had been emotionally and
spiritually scarred by the experience of slavery, didn’t really feel
worthy of approaching God in prayer. You may recall that even after
the revelation at Sinai, they asked Moshe to receive the rest of the
Torah from God, but they didn’t want a Divine Voice speaking to them
directly (cf. Shmot/ Exodus 20). Furthermore, the people had just been
“complaining,” and were probably not feeling particularly
self-confident or spiritually dignified. Finally, consider that Moshe
had proven his mettle as an intermediary during the confrontation with
Pharoah, the god of Egypt; perhaps it was simply too soon after Egypt
for the people to fully grasp the difference between a human dictator
and a Divine Liberator.

Thus I understand Rashi’s little allegory as teaching empathy for the
estranged “son,” that is, the people, who asked Moshe to intervene not
because they thought that God only heard Moshe’s prayers, but because
they themselves didn’t feel ready to face God in t’shuvah. They needed
Moshe to go before them, not because God wouldn’t receive their
prayers, but they felt that Moshe was better able to present them.
Moshe prayed for the people, not only because of his humility, but
also because of the people’s humiliation by Pharoah- after suffering
under a king who thought he was a god, how could they even imagine
that the God of Israel does in fact love each person and desire their
constant return and growth and spiritual uplift?

Sending a message of reconciliation to a human being through a
messenger could be a fine idea, depending on the circumstances.
Reorienting ourselves to sacred principles and practices, however, is
best done one-on-One in prayer and meditation, with the human soul
communing with its Divine Source. No matter what has enslaved us in
the past, none of us are unworthy of standing before the Holy One in
prayer, and all of us deserve the blessings of reconciliation and
return to the path of being our best self. We may feel momentarily
estranged from the Source of our Being, but never forget the real
point of Rashi’s allegory: all the people are the children of the
Living God. That was true in the wilderness, and it’s true today.

Shabbat Shalom,

rnjl

PS- As usual, you’ll find a summary and further commentary here:

http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Weekly_Torah_Commentary/
bhaalotkha_index.htm

and the text of the portion and haftarah here:

http://www.jtsa.edu/community/parashah/index.shtml

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’alotcha

Shalom Friends!

Before we look at this week’s Torah portion, a word from our
sponsor: Although I will be
leaving my position at Temple Israel (now Congregation Shirat Hayam)
in a few weeks, my
intention is to continue writing a weekly Torah study, and you are
all invited to stay
members of the list. In fact, you are welcome to invite your friends
to join, too- if the
Yahoo link doesn’t work, then email me and I’ll add new
members directly.

When I am traveling this summer, I may have to give you some parshiot
(plural of parsha,
or portion) in advance, or present some of the best Torah studies on
the internet instead
of writing my own every week, but I am committed to putting Torah
study into your inbox
for the indefinite future.

Now, back to our Torah portion. Beha’alotecha begins with a
review of the commandment
to make a seven-branched menorah (lamp) in the Mishkan [portable
Sanctuary]. (Cf.
Exodus 25.) Aharon, the priest, dedicates the entire tribe of the
Levites for service in the
Mishkan. Then the trouble begins: first a group of men want to make
the Pesach [Passover]
offering after the appointed season, but it turns out that they
should, in fact, get a second
chance.

There is a great grumbling and complaining in the camp of Israel (the
more things change.
. . .) and God sends a great swarm of quail to satiate the
people’s cravings. Finally, there’s
a family spat between Moshe and his siblings Miriam and Aharon, in
which Miriam is put
outside the camp for a week after defaming Moshe’s wife.

The parsha begins with a review of the menorah, or seven-branched
lampstand. (What
most people in America call a “menorah” is technically a
“Hannukiah,” a special menorah-
lamp- for Hannukah.) Moshe is told to tell Aharon to kindle the lamps
in a special way, but
Rashi wonders what this commandment is doing here at all, stuck
in-between two
different topics: the long story of how the 12 princes brought gifts
for the dedication of
the Mishkan (the end of last week’s portion, in chapter 7) and
the dedication of the Levites
who serve in it (the next topic in chapter 8).

Rashi’s question makes sense: last week the 12 princes brought
their silver gifts for the
dedication of the Mishkan, this week all the Levites are dedicated to
serve in it, and what
you’d expect to follow next is some description of the ritual of
the Mishkan when it is
actually operational. The detail of the menorah seems out of order, a
detail stuck in the
wrong place.

Rashi brings an interesting midrash [interpretive story] to answer
his question: he says
that when Aharon saw all the silver gifts being brought by all the
princes, he felt badly that
he wasn’t also bringing a gift for the dedication ceremonies. So
God (in Rashi’s
commentary) offers Aharon a consolation: “”By your life, yours
is greater than theirs, for
you will light and prepare the lamp!”

This is a great midrash, for several reasons. First, I think it
accurately captures a feeling
that I suspect is widespread among spiritual leaders, a feeling of
discomfort when
somebody else is in the “spotlight” of the community.
It’s hard to give up being the High
Priest, as it were, and it’s hard to acknowledge that one’s
role doesn’t allow for the kinds
of philanthropic contributions that others can make.

The midrash also points out an interesting tension: the Torah itself
gives over many, many
verses (in chapter 7) to describing, detailing and honoring the gifts
of the princes for the
Mishkan, but Rashi wants to say: lighting the lamp is a greater
honor. What I think this
means is that lighting the lamp symbolizes the core purpose of the
Mishkan, which is to
help the people feel God’s Presence in the world. Where one can
perceive a greater
Presence, then there is hope in a brutal world, and even today, we
speak of hope and
despair using the metaphors of light and darkness.

So God says to Aharon: not everybody can bring gifts of silver, but
you have been given
the task of bringing light into darkness, both literally and
metaphorically. Gifts to the
Mishkan sustain this work, but don’t lose sight of what the work
actually is: bringing light
into darkness, hope where there is despair, compassion where there is
alienation, justice
where there is cruelty. That’s the work of Judaism, for Aharon
and for all his spiritual heirs.

shabbat shalom,

rnjl

PS- as usual, you can read the Torah portion and the haftarah in, in
translation, here:

http://www.jtsa.edu/community/parashah/index.shtml

PPS- the subject title this week refers to the title of a wonderful
African-American
Spiritual with this theme of light and hope. Google will lead you to more.

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’alotcha

This d’var Torah was originally distributed by Kolel: The Adult Center for Jewish Learning during the year 5761 and can be found in its archives.

Beha’alotecha (Numbers 8:1-12:16)

OVERVIEW

This parsha is thematically diverse, beginning with the Menorah [lamp] in the Mishkan, then proceeding to a description of the dedication of the Levites as assistants to the priests. The Israelites celebrate the Pesach (Passover) holy day in the wilderness, but some people can’t bring the sacrifice, due to ritual impurity. So God gives them a second chance, a month later. Then the Israelites complain about their diet of food direct from heaven [Manna] – so God sends them so much meat that it comes out their nostrils! Aharon and Miriam speak slander against Moshe and his wife; Miriam is stricken with a scaly skin outbreak, and sent out of the camp.

IN FOCUS

“The rabble with them began to crave other food, and again the Israelites started wailing and said, “If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost–also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!” The manna was like coriander seed and looked like resin. ” (Numbers 11:4-7)

PSHAT

Complaining and rebellion is a recurring theme in the book of Numbers- despite all the miracles, beginning with the liberation from Egypt, some of the Israelites just can’t appreciate everything that is being done for them. In this case, it seems like some of the “mixed multitude” who went out of Egypt with the Israelites are instigating the complaining. The people are complaining about the manna from heaven, even though the Torah tries to tell us how yummy it was, something like a creamy cake flavored with spices. On the most basic level, the book of Numbers repeatedly reminds us to appreciate our blessings, have a little faith, and refrain from negativity and excessive “kvetching.”

DRASH

A key word in the Israelites’s complaint is hinam, or “free.” Rashi quotes a midrash which explains that “free” was not free in its literal sense, but “free from mitzvot.” In other words, what the Israelites were really complaining about was the expectations that God now has of them as autonomous, responsible people.

While this interpretation certainly touches on the ambivalence that the Israelites seem to feel towards God and Moshe, other commentators (such as Nachmanides) understand hinam more literally- i.e., that the Egyptians provided cheap food, like cucumbers and fish from the Nile, to their slaves, presumably in order to keep them working hard. However, the Israelites are getting even better food, even more “free”, out in the wilderness! So their complaint is very strange- but maybe that’s the point.

Of course, we know that the food they received in Egypt was not free at all- it came at the cost of their freedom, their labour, their dignity, their spirituality, and their very lives. I hear the very irrationality of this complaint- “we miss the free cucumbers in Egypt !” – as a poignant sign of their very real fear of the changes that the future might bring. Being free, being not enslaved, means being responsible for yourself: not only for providing oneself and one’s family with the basics of life, but having to make important moral choices that a slave (or an addict, or a workaholic, or a codependent. . . .) simply doesn’t (or won’t) confront.

Personal change and growth can be so scary that sometimes people would rather be stuck in something bad than go forward into the future. We might think of a person stuck in a bad work situation, or an abusive relationship, or an addiction, or unhealthy grief- even though it’s “Egypt,” a place of real personal unhappiness, sometimes it’s more comfortable than the hard personal choices that God lays before us.

For the Israelites, there really wasn’t a choice: they had to go forward into their destiny as a nation, despite the hardships. They might have complained along the way, and pined for the comfortable spiritual paralysis of servitude, but their journey was laid out for them. Perhaps the fact that they moved forward, despite their fears and complaints and doubts, can be inspiration for each of us to do the same. No matter how good the past seems in our memories, no matter how scary the future might be, ultimately we must move forward, embracing our destiny, and appreciating the blessings of the present.

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Beha’alotcha

This d’var Torah was originally distributed by Kolel: The Adult Center for Jewish Learning during the year 5760 and can be found in its archives.

Beha’alotecha (Numbers 8:1-12:16)

OVERVIEW

This parasha is thematically diverse, beginning with the Menorah in the Mishkan, then proceeding to a description of the dedication of the Levites as assistants to the priests. The Israelites celebrate the Pesach holy day in the wilderness, but some men can’t bring the sacrifice, due to ritual impurity, so God gives them a second chance, a month later. Then the Israelites complain about their diet of heavenly Manna – so God, apparently frustrated sends them so much meat that it comes out their nostrils! Aharon and Miriam speak slander against of Moses and his wife; Miriam is stricken with a scaly skin outbreak, and sent out of the camp.

IN FOCUS

“The meat was still between their teeth when [the people] began to die. God’s anger was displayed against the people, and God struck them with an extremely severe striking. He named the place “Graves of Craving” [Kivrot HaTa'avah], since it was in that place where they buried the people who had these cravings. From Graves of Craving, the people traveled to Chatzerot. . . .” (Numbers 11:33-35)

PSHAT

After the people demand meat from Moshe- they were apparently unsatisfied with having all their food sent directly from Heaven!- God sends a huge flock of quail for the people to eat. The Israelites collected all the quail they could, intending to eat meat like gluttons, when God sends a punishment for the people’s ingratitude and lack of faith. Thus, the place where they stopped was called “Graves of Craving,” because people died there because of their craving for meat.

DRASH

This is not the first time we see a significant place name in the Torah. For example, in Genesis 28:19, Yaakov sets up a pillar to mark the place where he had his amazing vision of the ladder to heaven; he then calls the spot “Bet-El,” or “House of God,” reflecting the theophany which occurred there. Academic Bible scholars tend to see these names as history retrojected back onto the text, an explanation of a name or tradition that was already old by the time the Torah was set down in writing.

The Torah itself simply tells us the meaning of a name in a straightforward fashion, as above: Kivrot-HaTa’avah got its name because the “Cravers” [the mita'avim] of meat, who did not appreciate or acknowledge the tremendous miracle God was giving them, died and were buried there [in kevurot, graves.] The moral of the story in its “pshat” reading might be that not being able to appreciate our blessings can bring potentially deadly results.

It’s not so distant from contemporary society: think of how many people have had heart attacks or strokes from a lifetime of stress, trying to “make it” with ever greater material and career success. Pausing to appreciate what we have is such a seemingly basic principle that it’s easy to forget; this story confronts us with the potentially dire consequences of “cravings” far in excess of what is appropriate for a balanced and joyous life.

In fact, we are urged to pay special attentions to our “cravings” by no less a figure than R. Israel ben Eliezer, the founder of Chassidism (d. 1760) – usually known as the Ba’al Shem Tov. (Sometimes even Besht for short.) His grandson, R. Chaim Ephraim of Sudylkov, author of Degel Machane Ephraim, quotes the Ba’al Shem Tov on this verse:

. . . Kivrot-HaTa’avah, this is the aspect of wisdom, for there the people buried their cravings. The explanation is that anyone who attains the quality of wisdom can thus make as nothing all of their cravings, from the greatness of his/ her cleaving to the Holy One of Blessed Name. (from Sefer Ba’al Shem Tov, translation mine.)

In order to make a midrash, the Ba’al Shem Tov reads “Graves of Cravings” literally- the “cravings” themselves were buried. For the Besht, attaining wisdom means knowing what to “crave” and what to not crave. A central aspect of his overall teaching is that one should yearn to feel close to or “cleave” to God, and when one does, one’s material and physical desires assume a different perspective. I don’t think this is the same as “overcoming” or “conquering” a desire, which implies great or painful struggle, but simply being so filled with a religious spirit that material desires don’t become the most important thing in life.

Nor do I think this implies an absolute rejection of creature comforts or physical pleasure, but rather just keeping things in perspective, nurturing a consciousness of what is long-lasting and what is momentary. In another place, the Ba’al Shem Tov writes:

I have placed God before me always (Psalm 16:8). . . “shiviti“, this is the language of “equallness”. [A pun which doesn't work in English- sorry.] Anything that happens to a person, should be equally OK with him. Whether people praise him or humiliate him, and thus with other things. In eating too, whether she eats tasty things or ordinary things, everything should be equal to her, to deprive the Evil Urge of anything [to use against a person.]
(Tziva’at Ha Rivash, #2, translation mine.)

Again, notice that the relationship with God is central to the teaching; a person with a vibrant spiritual consciousness is less likely to desire things out of jealousy, or insecurity, or ingratitude, or arrogance. Returning to our story, recall that the problem with the complaining Israelites was not so much that they wanted meat, per se, but that they could not appreciate the food that they had, or its apprehend its source in Divine grace. To “bury their cravings” would have meant keeping things in proper perspective, seeing the good, rather than reacting out of negativity or insecurity. Had they been able to do that, perhaps they could have even turned their complaints into joy, choosing to see each day’s sustenance as a gift from the Holy One. This is the wisdom which the Ba’al Shem Tov urges us to attain.