Friday, June 9, 2017

Arise, HaShem, may Your enemies be scattered

(Numbers 10:35)
Sivan 15, 5777/June 9, 2017
This week's Torah reading, Beha'alotcha, describes the very final preparations before the Israelite encampment, with the Tabernacle, in which the Shechinah - the presence of G-d dwells, located in the center and heart of the nation, sets out on its journey to the land of Canaan, the land promised them by G-d, the final destination, the land in which they will dwell forever.
Aharon kindles the menorah lights in the Tabernacle, the Levites are consecrated and silver trumpets are fashioned from pure silver that the kohanim (Temple priests) will blow to signal to the entire nation that it is time to strike camp and move forward.


In the very center of the parashah are two verses which describe so eloquently and so triumphantly the love and unity with which the nation of Israel was blessed:
"So it was, whenever the ark set out, Moshe would say, Arise, HaShem, may Your enemies be scattered and may those who hate You flee from You. And when it came to rest he would say, Repose HaShem, among the myriads of thousands of Israel." (Numbers 10:35-36)
The nation of Israel travels with G-d at G-d's beckoning. When the cloud of glory which envelops the Tabernacle lifts up it is time to move forward. When the cloud descends again, the nation halts, reassembles the Tabernacle and sets up camp. There they will dwell until G-d lifts again the cloud of glory, be it for a day, a week or a year. The nation of Israel is in sync with the G-d of Israel. Like dance partners, G-d leads and the people follow. G-d is leading His people, effortlessly, it would seem, through space, through time, through history and through spiritual realms. G-d and His people are at peace. It doesn't get better than this.
The will of G-d and the will of the people are in an intimate embrace, focused on the daily service in the Tabernacle, the performance of G-d's commandments, the pursuit of justice and the pursuit of destiny: the entering into and settling of the land of Israel. But, as we know, man, from the moment G-d placed him in Eden and made for him a help-meet, has had a mind of his own and a proclivity, from time to time, to exercise his independence from his Creator. The two verses quoted above, so breathtaking and inspired, sit, as it were, on a kind of continental divide of the soul, or fault-line of man's psyche. The human tasks, the people's participation in the ongoing birth of the nation, beginning with Aharon's kindling of the menorah lamps, a task he will do daily with newness and purpose, the Levites assuming their myriad responsibilities and the ever-ready preparedness of the trumpet-bearing kohanim to signal to Israel that it is time to move on, all of which precede Moshe's call, "Arise HaShem...," these are all actions which embody initiative and an eagerness to serve G-d and to live up to His expectations for the nation. This is most magnificently exemplified by the men who approached Moshe and entreated G-d for a second chance to perform the Passover offering, for they had been impure and unable to do so in its appointed time. They didn't nullify their will before G-d. They didn't need to. They were so in touch and in harmony with G-d's will, and so intent on performing G-d's will that G-d's immediate and positive response to their request was an unprecedented 'meeting of the minds,' as it were.
But following Moshe's words, "Repose HaShem, among the myriads of thousands of Israel," we are exposed to the other side of man's soul. Grumblers and complainers arose, whose only initiative was to infect the entire encampment with their nihilistic malcontent. We are told by Midrash that the manna, the bread from heaven which appeared at their doorsteps every morning, an outright gift from G-d, had the ability to assume the taste of any delicacy its consumer might desire. Yet these gripers had no desire to fill their lives with G-d's love for them, nor their bellies with the spiritual nourishment which the manna provided. They longed for the imagined dainties of their Egyptian slavery, the bread of their affliction, the "fish that we ate in Egypt free of charge, the cucumbers, the watermelons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic." (ibid 10:5) And, indeed, their meanness of spirit was infectious. Even Moshe threw up his hands in despair at their insolence and audacity, asking G-d to take his life rather than to have to indulge these cynics and malefactors. And by parashah's end, even Miriam, heroine and architect of the infant Moshe's survival, is infected by the contagion of jealousy.
Parashat Beha'alotcha, seems to be trying to teach us a very important lesson: G-d always dwells within our midst, both as a nation and within our own individual selves. It is our choice whether to light up our lives each day as did Aharon, to insert ourselves in G-d's presence, as did the men longing to perform the Passover offering, and to be ever listening for the sound of the trumpets and ready to move forward with G-d, at a moment's notice, and to rest with G-d, at a moment's notice, in perfect step with our Father and Creator. Or we can choose, as did the ne'er-do-wells in the desert, who "were looking to complain" (ibid 11:1), who chose to see darkness where there was light, and chose to feel hunger when there was plenty.
-The Temple Institute

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