BaMidbar
May 31, 2008
I’d like to thank Rabbi Mark Greenspan for the idea for this Dvar Torah.
The Hebrew name for this portion is Bemidbar, which means ‘in the wilderness.’ This name comes from the first verse of the portion, Vayidaber Adonai el Moshe bemidbar Sinai, ‘Adonai spoke to Moshe in the wilderness of Sinai…’ This is not the only physical place that God speaks to the Israelites. In the portion, BaHar, ‘on the mountain,’ God also speaks to Moshe saying, ‘Vayidaber adonai el moshe b’har Sinai,’ ‘Adonai spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai.’
We see God speaking to Moshe both in the wilderness and on top of a mountain. These are two very different venues and give us two different understandings of what it means to receive God’s law and wisdom.
Imagine the view that Moshe had on top of Mount Sinai. He was close to the clouds, with the majestic view of the land and the people gathered below, with God in His element. This view was exciting and exhilarating.
Contrast that with receiving the law in the hot, arid and monotonous desert; the weather making it much harder to understand what the law was, not to mention how and why to follow it.
We as a community share the same types of experiences. On the Mountain we have Bnai Mitzvah, weddings, Baby namings. These are perfect examples of the elevated and exalted experiences of being a community.
But then we have the desert: our weekly services; preparing and serving the Kiddush lunch; volunteering to work in the library or teach in the Hebrew school; taking an adult education class. These events are not God on the mountain. Nor can we expect them to be.
BaMidbar teaches us that being in the desert is the real life of a community. As much as Bahar, the mountain symbolizes the occasional high that comes to each of our lives; Bemidbar, the desert, exemplifies the journey: the road we take as a community to build ourselves together, to make ourselves as strong as possible, to give ourselves a shared vision of who we are and what we want to accomplish together.
That process is not always smooth but we still cannot turn away from it. Every journey leads to a destination. And struggling through the desert of community building will lead us to the destination of increased connection, love and commitment to each other. In our Jewish lives, as was true of our ancestors, the destination of all that hard work is HaAretz, the Promised Land.
I remember getting ready for my first trip to Israel in 1987. I had to fly from California to New York and then on to Israel. I was going alone, knowing only one person in Israel and about five words of Hebrew. I was nervous about all the unknowns, beginning with navigating the long hours of travel and transitions. One of my friends said to me, ‘Let the journey be the destination.’ That helped me so much in my travels. I didn’t have to keep waiting to get to Israel, to get to the conference, to present my workshop, to travel around the country. If I kept waiting for my real trip to begin, I would miss everything that happened along the way.
It is the same thing with our lives as a community. If we wait for the next baby naming, the next wedding, the next Bar or Bat Mitzvah, we miss the daily connections that make our lives full and whole.
As it turned out, my trip to Israel was magical and transformational. I met people all along the way: on the airplanes, at the conference, on Ben Yehudah Street; people who were generous, helpful and caring. It taught me how to experience exactly what was happening at any given moment and to trust that I could get the help I needed when I needed it.
I think that our community sometimes gets caught up in wanting to be on the mountain most of the time and not being satisfied with what the desert provides for us.
This is the end of my first year here. It has been a whirlwind: getting to know everybody; learning the scope of my job; learning how to live in a new city. While I was on the Mountain a number of times during the year, I spent most of my time in the desert doing the daily tasks that allow the spectacular things to happen so successfully.
I’ve learned a lot about the three p’s of rabbinic life: patience, perseverance and politics. And I look forward to putting those lessons into practice during the coming year.
What I am most convinced about is that we as a community have to feel the comfort of being in the desert together. It’s the daily moments we spend together that really build who we are so that we can also have those peak moments.
We are about to have a congregational meeting on Sunday at 4pm. It’s the perfect time to assess both the state of the community and how each of us is contributing to making it a holier and healthier place to be.
I’d like us all to think about how we can improve those daily moments. Which part of synagogue life do we want to become more involved with? We have an amazing group of people who belong to our synagogue. We have a wealth of life experience, Jewish training and sekhel, common sense. I know by learning how to be more comfortable together in the desert, we can make this community even better than it’s ever been before.