Parashat Bemidbar – 5786

A D’var Torah for Parashat Bemidbar

By Rabba Kaya Stern-Kaufman

Just two months ago I lost my soul mate, my beloved husband, to cancer. He was the love of my life.  My world has turned upside down. I find myself in an unrecognizable terrain, a wilderness  with no clear reference points. He was my compass and my North Star. Yet, despite my personal loss, I am fairly certain that this feeling of disorientation is not unique to me. We are all experiencing such rapid societal changes, both domestically and internationally, that many of us  are falling into despair, grief, fear, and disorientation. Norms, structures and societal agreements that held us together, that championed the good of all, over individual greed and gain, seem to have dissolved overnight under the brute force of humanity’s most base instincts; the endless desire for personal gain and power through the proliferation of fear, hatred and divisiveness.  However, in this painful reality we are also fortunate to be recipients of a wellspring of spiritual wisdom – our Torah – which once again, provides a kind of spiritual medicine for the condition in which we find ourselves.

This week we are reading the Torah portion called Bemidbar which translates as “in the wilderness.”  This is also the name of the entire fourth book of the Torah which chronicles the events that took place during the Israelites’ forty year sojourn in the wilderness. In the second chapter of the book God gives the people a template for the orientation and organization of their camp. As if, in response to the predicament of living in a wilderness, the Torah presents an orderly picture of the Israelite camp as an orienting tool. Although the camp will be taken down and reconstructed dozens of times along the 40 year journey,  it will always maintain the same design, with the same tribes situated in each of the four cardinal directions. The community itself will serve as the compass in the wilderness, with the mishkan (Tabernacle), the abode of God, at the center. God will be their North Star.

Like the petals of a flower or the planets revolving around the sun, the Israelite camp expresses a vision of sacred community in spatial form. It reveals metaphorically, the power of community to serve as a stabilizing and orienting force. When each tribe or individual holds a particular space, for the sake of the whole, there is stability. With the Divine abode at the center of the camp, each individual and each tribe join together in a shared focus on the Holy, no matter where they are situated in the wilderness.

In Bemidbar Rabbah (a medieval midrashic commentary on the book of Bemidbar) the spiritual significance of each cardinal direction and the tribes assigned to those particular positions are explained.

The south, the place of maximum sunlight, is associated with the hot fire of passionate action but also with the capacity for teshuvah/repentance after reckless action. The tribes of Reuvein and Shimon, by virtue of their life stories anchor this position.

The west is associated with the setting sun, a place where the light is receding and darkness is mounting. To dwell here and still remain connected with God’s Presence, with Shekhinah, requires a kind of spiritual strength. The children and grandchildren of our foremother Rachel, the tribes of Benjamin, Efraim and Menashe dwell here. It is taught that Efraim and Menashe are the only brothers in Genesis who are at peace with one another. Our midrash states that the Shekhinah, the indwelling presence of God, dwells in the west with these tribes for there is true harmony between them.

The north, a place of darkness, is associated with the tribe of Dan who, in future days will fall into idolatry. This potential to become lost in the darkness is balanced by the presence of the tribe of Asher whose territory, in future days will become the major producer of olive oil used in the Menorah in the Holy Temple. Asher’s position in the north represents the potential to fill the darkness with a great and abundant spiritual light.

Finally, in the east, the land of the rising sun, resides Yehudah – the leader. For as the sun leads the day and brings light, so too does a great leader. He is situated right in front of the opening of the Tabernacle.

As individuals, we have occasions throughout our lives whereby we travel through these metaphorical directions. Sometimes we dwell for long periods in one place and sometimes we cycle more quickly through different spaces. There are times when we experience great hope and inspiration; days of the rising sun when we feel we are right in front of the opening to God’s chamber and it is easy to feel God’s presence. This is the gift of the east.

So too, at times we travel the way of the south into passionate and sometimes reckless action requiring teshuvah – return and repair. At other times we may experience the harshness of the west; rough times that require deep conviction and fortitude to remain rooted in what is our essential truth. And many of us have traveled into the dark night; when all light is seemingly  hidden (tsafon/north/hidden) from us. Yet, even in this place, Divine love and Divine truth are accessible. And oftentimes, journeys to the darkest of places yield, like the tribe of Asher, the brightest and most enduring light.

The image of the Israelite camp reveals in graphic form that there is a place for everyone in a sacred community. Each direction expresses a unique perspective, and all are necessary for stability. Each tribe is surrounded by a reliable community that helps to orient and define the unique character of each other. Each is dependent on the other for self-definition.

In Martin Buber’s book, I and Thou (pg. 69), he writes about the presence of the Divine in relationship. He states quite simply, “In the beginning is the relation.”  He explains that by living in a consciousness of relatedness, one experiences intimations of the eternal. We become more fully human through relationship as we discover a deeper sense of the self through the other. In this dynamic process, the presence of spirit is revealed.

Buber explains, “True community does not come into being because people have feelings for each other (though that is required, too) but rather on two accounts: all of them have to stand in a living, reciprocal relationship to a single living center, and they have to stand in a living, reciprocal relationship to one another.”  The layout of the Israelite camp beautifully expresses these values.

Whether moving through a personal or communal wilderness, let us take to heart this vision of sacred community as a model to emulate. Community in proper respectful relationship with itself, honoring all perspectives, and with a shared focus on the Sacred at its core provides stability, focus and vision for navigating the wilderness and healing the spirit.