Bamidbar: Sounds of the Desert Mountain
In democratic society we naturally have a dislike for hierarchies.
We feel that imposed hierarchies are unfair, in that they limit the potential of the individual.
We will have to deal with this in this weeks parsha, because it is all about setting up the camp of Israel according to an established hierarchy.
We always read this parsha before Shavuos – Matan Torah, because as the sages teach us, we have to make of ourselves a desert in order to receive the Torah.
And yet, there is an interesting paradox. When we think of desert we think of an empty wasteland, teaching us humility. And while that idea is true, still, this ‘desert encampment’ is one has that a tremendous amount of definition as to who is who, and where they are supposed to encamp. In fact, the entire parsha is one of assigning roles and placements according to count and name, down to each individual, by a census.
At the top of the hierarchy stand the tribe of Levi, which have a special relationship both with regards to their placement around the Ohel Moed, and in their replacement of the firstborns as those who serve in the Temple.
The function of the Leviim and Kohanim (a subset of Levi) is to represent the people before God. From times immemorial each family would dedicate a firstborn to serve in as a "religious" functionary, hence the issues between Ya'akov and Esav regarding the birthright of the firstborn. It's not all about money. Ya'akov took the initiative as he knew, even if their father didn't, that Esav would not make a good spiritual leader, or King, as Esav did become. Just look at chapter 36 of Genesis and see the generals of his armies of thousands! A King he became, but a representative of God? One thinks not.
Why though did the tribe of Levi replace the firstborns among our people?
Because they didn’t give in to the temptation of the Golden Calf, not even to countenance it. The other tribes may not have all served, but on the other hand they also did not respond to Moshe Rabainu’s call of “ mi l’HaShem alai” - whoever is for God, unto me!
But didn’t Levi already have a special status? After all, the sages teach that of all the tribes, only Levi was not subject to the servitude in Egypt?
The answer is that this is and example of the concept of mitzvah gorgers mitzvah, or, one mitzva brings another in its wake.
The Leviim didn’t serve as slaves in Egypt not simply because they were priveledged, but because as the Mishna states, “kol hamikabel alav ol Torah, maavirim memenu ol malchus v’ol drench eretz,” all who take upon themselves the yoke of Torah, the yoke of government service and livelihood are removed from them.
They too were serving, but a greater purpose than the glory which is Egypt. They were serving the Almighty, by maintaining the spirit of the Jews through their connection to the teachings of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs.
It is only the Almighty in the end who decides who serves, and where. So for some reason the Egyptians allowed the Levi’s to sit and learn, much as the modern State of Israel does. Just with a (sort of) better level of compensation.
And because of their special dedication to Torah learning, they merited to be strong enough to resist the temptation of the Egel.
Why this specific merit?
What was the temptation of the Egel, but to see fear that if Moshe, who was their intermediary, their messenger from God was gone - oh - campers - what are we to do?!
If Moshe is not here we are very very afraid - we must replace him or return to the relative safety of Egypt at once! The desert without Moshe is too... frightening.
But the Levites, through their Torah learning, had connected on a personal level to HaShem and did not fear being “separated” from Him except by their own sins.
To the mind of the Levi, the idea of an intermediary between them as individuals and the Almighty is abhorrent!
Especially as the Torah study in Egypt had been under conditions of deprivation, and was therefore especially beloved before the Almighty. The result being that the bodies and minds of the Leviim were more clear than we can possibly imagine.
So while there is a hierarchy, it is a meritocracy, in other words the system is based on who the people are on a personal level, not simply imposed.
As the Rambam teaches, anyone who dedicates themselves to Torah study and teaching as did the Leviim, makes themselves into a Levi, much ( lehavdil) as a great writer might be presented with an honorary degree by a university for his achievements, although he never graduated high school.
And this is why Bamidbar - “In the desert” is read before the holiday of Shavuos, when we commemorate receiving the Torah at Sinai.
In order that we empty ourselves like a desert, ready to place by the Almighty where and when we need to be counted.
In order to make ourselves into such a desert, we must become an open vessel, ready to receive, without holding onto preconceived notions. Because the first step into the house of study must be taken with the attitude that I do not know and that only the Almighty can teach me.
Without the humility of being an open vessel - one will have to stand so far away from the Mountain that one wonders what they will hear in the words?
And yet open-minded as a desert doesn’t mean being a non-entity, nor does it mean so open minded that your brain falls out (in the words of an previous Rosh Yeshiva of mine)!
Rather it means that each of us make of ourselves a living desert, a quiet place wherein we can lessen the static of our body and ego, and listen for God. He is there. We must just tune in, shut up, and listen.
We feel that imposed hierarchies are unfair, in that they limit the potential of the individual.
We will have to deal with this in this weeks parsha, because it is all about setting up the camp of Israel according to an established hierarchy.
We always read this parsha before Shavuos – Matan Torah, because as the sages teach us, we have to make of ourselves a desert in order to receive the Torah.
And yet, there is an interesting paradox. When we think of desert we think of an empty wasteland, teaching us humility. And while that idea is true, still, this ‘desert encampment’ is one has that a tremendous amount of definition as to who is who, and where they are supposed to encamp. In fact, the entire parsha is one of assigning roles and placements according to count and name, down to each individual, by a census.
At the top of the hierarchy stand the tribe of Levi, which have a special relationship both with regards to their placement around the Ohel Moed, and in their replacement of the firstborns as those who serve in the Temple.
The function of the Leviim and Kohanim (a subset of Levi) is to represent the people before God. From times immemorial each family would dedicate a firstborn to serve in as a "religious" functionary, hence the issues between Ya'akov and Esav regarding the birthright of the firstborn. It's not all about money. Ya'akov took the initiative as he knew, even if their father didn't, that Esav would not make a good spiritual leader, or King, as Esav did become. Just look at chapter 36 of Genesis and see the generals of his armies of thousands! A King he became, but a representative of God? One thinks not.
Why though did the tribe of Levi replace the firstborns among our people?
Because they didn’t give in to the temptation of the Golden Calf, not even to countenance it. The other tribes may not have all served, but on the other hand they also did not respond to Moshe Rabainu’s call of “ mi l’HaShem alai” - whoever is for God, unto me!
But didn’t Levi already have a special status? After all, the sages teach that of all the tribes, only Levi was not subject to the servitude in Egypt?
The answer is that this is and example of the concept of mitzvah gorgers mitzvah, or, one mitzva brings another in its wake.
The Leviim didn’t serve as slaves in Egypt not simply because they were priveledged, but because as the Mishna states, “kol hamikabel alav ol Torah, maavirim memenu ol malchus v’ol drench eretz,” all who take upon themselves the yoke of Torah, the yoke of government service and livelihood are removed from them.
They too were serving, but a greater purpose than the glory which is Egypt. They were serving the Almighty, by maintaining the spirit of the Jews through their connection to the teachings of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs.
It is only the Almighty in the end who decides who serves, and where. So for some reason the Egyptians allowed the Levi’s to sit and learn, much as the modern State of Israel does. Just with a (sort of) better level of compensation.
And because of their special dedication to Torah learning, they merited to be strong enough to resist the temptation of the Egel.
Why this specific merit?
What was the temptation of the Egel, but to see fear that if Moshe, who was their intermediary, their messenger from God was gone - oh - campers - what are we to do?!
If Moshe is not here we are very very afraid - we must replace him or return to the relative safety of Egypt at once! The desert without Moshe is too... frightening.
But the Levites, through their Torah learning, had connected on a personal level to HaShem and did not fear being “separated” from Him except by their own sins.
To the mind of the Levi, the idea of an intermediary between them as individuals and the Almighty is abhorrent!
Especially as the Torah study in Egypt had been under conditions of deprivation, and was therefore especially beloved before the Almighty. The result being that the bodies and minds of the Leviim were more clear than we can possibly imagine.
So while there is a hierarchy, it is a meritocracy, in other words the system is based on who the people are on a personal level, not simply imposed.
As the Rambam teaches, anyone who dedicates themselves to Torah study and teaching as did the Leviim, makes themselves into a Levi, much ( lehavdil) as a great writer might be presented with an honorary degree by a university for his achievements, although he never graduated high school.
And this is why Bamidbar - “In the desert” is read before the holiday of Shavuos, when we commemorate receiving the Torah at Sinai.
In order that we empty ourselves like a desert, ready to place by the Almighty where and when we need to be counted.
In order to make ourselves into such a desert, we must become an open vessel, ready to receive, without holding onto preconceived notions. Because the first step into the house of study must be taken with the attitude that I do not know and that only the Almighty can teach me.
Without the humility of being an open vessel - one will have to stand so far away from the Mountain that one wonders what they will hear in the words?
And yet open-minded as a desert doesn’t mean being a non-entity, nor does it mean so open minded that your brain falls out (in the words of an previous Rosh Yeshiva of mine)!
Rather it means that each of us make of ourselves a living desert, a quiet place wherein we can lessen the static of our body and ego, and listen for God. He is there. We must just tune in, shut up, and listen.