Parashat Bamidbar

It’s a family affair, it’s a family affair
It’s a family affair, it’s a family affair
One child grows up to be
Somebody that just loves to learn
And another child grows up to be
Somebody you’d just love to burn

Mom loves the both of them
You see it’s in the blood
Both kids are good to Mom
‘Blood’s thicker than mud’
It’s a family affair, it’s a family affair
-Sylvester Stewart (Sly Stone)

This week’s reading begins our annual relationship with Sefer Bamidbar, or Book of Numbers, and the same named sidra, Parashat Bamidbar.

The English name is pretty straightforward. This fourth book of the Torah has two distinct census taking stories (did you notice how I wiggled out of having to commit to a plural form of “census”?). It is also called in Hebrew, “Chumash HaPekudim”, the book of countings.

The tradition Hebrew name, Sefer Bamidbar (The Book of the Wilderness) has a much more enticing name. It connotes openness, potentiality, uncertainty.

This parasha will always beckon to me in a unique way, as it was the day after Shabbat Bamidbar that my wife and I stood in the wilds of the chuppa, our wedding canopy, many years ago.

I still recall our then newly minted M’sader Kiddushin, HaRav Daniel Wasserman (now the venerable Senior Rabbi at Congregation Shaare Torah in the Squirrel Hill section of Pittsburgh) addressing us during the ceremony.
“Take a head count of the entire congregation of Bnei Yisroel according to their families,..…..” (Num. 1:2)

Rav Wasserman pointed out that it was most significant to be considering this verse while standing under the chuppa, as this was the final step in becoming a Jewish family. Upon emerging from the chuppa, my new wife and I would be numbered among the aforementioned, indeed worthy of divine tally.

I have since had many years, and many encounters with Parashat Bamidbar, always flashing back to my time under the chuppa, and my fond memories of the young Rabbi. In one of our meetings prior to the wedding day he asked us to acquire a set of books entitled Sefer Hachinuch ( the Book of Education) which would turn out be the start of our substantial library of Hebrew sefarim. The author, who is called simply “The Chinuch”, was a 13th century Spanish scholar who wrote the book for his young son and for all of us, explaining the reasons for the various commandments, and enumerating and organizing them by parasha.

When I looked up my wedding parasha, this week’s Parashat Bamidbar, I saw no entry at all. This sidra contains no mitzvoth, no commandments.

It is, in fact, homiletically speaking, just a wide open, barren wilderness of spiritual ideas amidst specific instruction to the nation who had left Egypt, in anticipation of entering the promised land.

And, a census…

Rashi mentions, almost in passing, when explaining G-d’s three documented countings of the Jewish people, that G-d counts “kol shaa” -all the time.

G-d is constantly counting the most significant creation, and we are constantly accountable.

During the course of my rabbinic training I learned about the concept of a devar sh’b’minyan- something that is always counted (or sold by number). Unlike other substances which are considered insignificant in very small quantities, and would not affect the kashrut of a mixture should a very small amount be mixed in, a devar sh’bminyan is ALWAYS significant.

Perhaps the Torah is teaching us that our accountability is a constant, and that our covenantal responsibilities are intact all the time.

Our tradition teaches that our wedding day is like Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement; a cosmic reset button, that we are once again a blank slate in the spiritual midbar, the wilderness.

How can we see if we are successful in our Jewish journey? By seeing ourselves in the context of the families we are creating and nurturing.

Unlike our public personae, on display when we choose to go out into the world, our families see us “kol shaa”- all the time. Our families are a two way mirror into our own souls, and our goal of achieving spiritual significance is most assessable in this context.

In our daily recitation of the Shma we acknowledge the commandment to teach our children, which is a constant mitzvah. Any parent will tell you that they learn more about themselves by parenting than by any other activity. Our families will continue to reflect our successes and failures long after we have left the world, and it is a source of great pleasure for all people when the next generation is representing the spiritual accomplishments of their predecessors, who continue to be counted.

May we all continue to be counted among the living, and have a joyous Chag Shavuot.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Greg