Bamidbar
Posted on Thursday, May 21st, 2009
We spent much of the latter half of the book of Shemot and a substantial portion of the book of Vayikra understanding, building, and orienting ourselves within the Mishkan. The Mishkan was constructed to exact dimensions, covered with tents of wool and skin. It contained within it the Ark of the Covenant, the Menorah, the Table, the incense altar, the Altar for elevation offerings, the sink, and its stand. Each vessel was described repeatedly – first as a command to Moshe, then as Moshe’s command, and then as it was finished. We read of the garments of the high priest and the garments of the other priests. We also read about the various ways to come close to G-d in terms of offerings – an elevation offering, a peace offering, and a sin offering.
Within these descriptions, we have found parallels in the modern human experience. The Mishkan with its vessels, as Malbim explains, parallel the human form, with the Ark representing the mind, the Menorah representing the face, etc. The clothes of the priests were each indicative of behaviors and beliefs that are required of us in order to enter into deeper levels of service. The different forms of sacrifice represent today, as they did then, different ways to come close to G-d at different moments in our lives.
Looking back on these chapters describing the Mishkan, the clothing, and the sacrifices, we see an amazing structure in place. That structure allows for all facets of the human experience to be elevated toward relationship with G-d through Temple service. Once that structure is in place, however, the substance must be allowed to enter. That will occur through the Mishkan’s travels in the wilderness. The fourth book of the Torah, Bamidbar, is named after that wilderness. This is the wilderness of encounter with influences from outside that are not always conducive to our dedication to G-d-service.
Much of the book of Bamidbar deals with falls of great people – Moshe, Miriam, Korach, the community leaders who were sent to scout the land of Israel. This book will be marked by the death of Aharon and Miriam. It is fraught with complaints and rebellions, with the dangers of Balak and Bil’am and a world that does not facilitate service of G-d. But this is the true test of the structure of the Mishkan – can this building, these gold vessels, these clothes and these sacrifices actually serve as a conduit for relationship between Israel and G-d even when things go wrong? That is the question that must be answered in this fourth book of the Torah.
Before travel begins, several layers of structure are added to the structure of the Mishkan. Each man of fighting age is named within his father’s house, within his tribe, within the larger whole of Israel. After the names are counted, the tribes are arranged into four camps, which are then arranged around the Mishkan. This structure, we assume, is meant to extend the intricate arrangement of the mishkan into the human realm.
It is known that each tribe had its own talents and short-comings, as explained in Ya’akov’s and then Moshe’s blessings. It is also known that each of the compass points has its own quality – the north brings wealth, the south brings wisdom, the west is the place of the Divine Presence, and the east is the place of newness. Thus each tribe, with its talents and shortcomings, is arranged in proximity to other tribes and toward a specific compass point that bring out its most productive qualities. That structure is known as the Camp of Israel.
Between the camp of Israel and the Mishkan is the Levite Camp. The Levites were charged with serving the priests, serving the Mishkan, and serving Israel. Their responsibilities were many – to play music in the Mishkan, to keep ‘strangers’ out of the mishkan, to break down the Mishkan when it came time to travel, and to erect it again when it came time to stop traveling. They were also in place to absorb any anger from
G-d that might emanate from the Mishkan.
The Levites were also arranged around the Mishkan in a specific way. Within their tribe, each family had its own talents and vulnerabilities, which could better serve the greater whole when arranged appropriately. When the structure is finally in place, we find the Mishkan containing vessels arranged in a specific way, surrounded by Levites who were arranged in a specific way, surrounded by the Israelites who were arranged in a specific way, all according to the compass points.
Together, the structure of the Camp of Israel contained concentric circles of structure – the Mishkan, the Levite Camp, and the camp of Israel. This arrangement, it seems, would best serve G-d’s purposes in allowing The Israelites to encounter the outside world in the most effective way. But the outside world does not lay passive as we attempt to impose our structure upon it. As proven repeatedly, the book of Bamidbar is characterized by repeatedly difficult encounters with unknowns and outside forces. So the structure of the Israelite camp in the wilderness is meant to be the most effective way to encounter an unknown, and possibly dangerous, outside world.
The encounter with Otherness can lead one to believe that no personal preparation is possible - or necessary. We might be led to believe, if we misread Buber’s ‘I and Thou’, that any personal preparation would effectively render the Other an ‘It’ instead of a Thou. But this is certainly a misreading – for the very consciousness of encountering an Other as a ‘Thou’ requires deep levels of personal preparation.
Each of knows his or her own internal barriers to encountering a true Other – like prejudices, misconception, a negative disposition, lack of sleep, self-loathing. And each of us who hopes to move beyond those ‘shortcomings’ into real relationship knows that each of these requires a different strategy in order to be surpassed. For example, one’s personal prejudices might be counteracted by a constant reminder that we are all created in the image of G-d. Or one who is overly critical might remind himself of the importance of seeing good points in others. Along these lines, an intricate internal arrangement is required in order to encounter the outside world in the most effective way.
In this light, the camp of Israel is seen not as an attempt to remain isolated, but as a way to effectively mobilize. The wilderness they are set to encounter is not a place of inherent danger that must be avoided. Rather, it is a place of deep possibility and potential that must be properly encountered in order to make it a place of positive encounter.
This model guides us toward the realization that encounter with the outside world is both necessary and dangerous. While it is certainly easier to remain in isolation – either personal or nationally – no new fruit will be borne from such an approach. But it also guides us toward a sane approach to encounter – know your weaknesses and your strengths, and do not fall unnecessarily. For example, if there are certain subjects that bring you frustration when you discuss them, do not purposely bring them up. Or if there are certain times of day that bring out the best in you, make that the time of day to look toward encounter.
The time of counting the Omer is also designed toward preparing one for encounter. As each day corresponds to one aspect of our character, those aspects of character are in order from above to below, starting with chesed she’b’chesed, and ending with malchut she’b’malchut. Malchut corresponds to the space of encounter. It is the place of opening whereby another can enter and be met. The counting starts with a deep affirmation of our ultimate intention – to give of ourselves. It then runs through a process of clarifying what and how we would like to give. As it gets closer to the ‘bottom’, or the end of the Omer, it deals with facets of our personality that are more oriented toward relationship. Finally, the last day before Shavuot is a day of focusing attention toward our ability to let another into our lives.
Another way to describe this process is 49 steps away from control. In our minds, and in our intentions, we have control. But as we move toward the actual act of relationship and giving, we move away from capacity to control the encounter. Finally, at malchut she’b’malchut, we reach a place of total lack of control, where ‘I’ and the Other have equal bearing on the process and outcome of the encounter, and control of the moment is not possible. Control of one’s reactions and attitude, however, is possible, as achieved through clarification of the internal structure being presented in the encounter. This is the tension between absolute self-control counteracted by absolute lack of control of the encounter. This is the brilliance of the structure of the Israelite camp in the desert, designed to maximize the strengths of the Jewish people as a whole, while created for the purpose of moving through the untamed wilderness.
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