Ah, Wilderness!

It seems all Jewish beginnings derive from the MIDBAR, which is often translated as ‘desert’, but I prefer ‘wilderness’. According to Rabbinnic geography, the world is divided into 3 parts: MIDBAR, where humans find survival difficult; YAM, the sea, uninhabitable; and YISHUV, the areas where human habitation is common and manageable. My title, of course, comes from Eugene O’Neil’s famous play, which further derives from the Rubaiyat of Omar Kayam in which the Wilderness becomes Paradise with, ‘A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou!’ In this week’s Torah reading, Midbar Sinai turns into our home together with the ‘Ultimate Thou’, namely SHECHINA, the Divine Presence.

But why did God choose this difficult environment for our historic rendezvous? Actually, the question is even greater, because much of God’s largesse was granted in the MIDBAR, as stated in the Midrash:

The Torah came from the desert, the Tabernacle from the desert, the Sanhedrin from the desert, the Priesthood from the desert, the service of the Levites from the desert, royalty from the desert as it says You shall be to me a kingdom of Priests and all the excellent gifts that God bestowed on Israel came from the desert (Shir Hashirim Raba, 3:6:1).

There are a plethora of answers to this question. As a teacher for my entire professional life, I love the answer given by the Eitz Yoseph (R. Chanoch Zundel ben Yosef, commentary on Midrash Raba):

Torah is like a desert which means that Torah has to be taught with humility. Teachers must approach each student from the perspective that they can learn from each and every one of their students. As much as teachers want to impart knowledge, they must approach every interaction with their students as an opportunity to gain knowledge. One can learn so very much from our students. 

Amen!!

But more famous are the variations on the theme that one should make themselves ‘like the MIDBAR’. This is how the S’far Emet presented this idea:

The Midrash explains that the Torah was given in the desert to draw its light even to the most desolate places. Through the Torah, Hashem illuminates all places of darkness. However, one who makes themselves like a desert, can merit the Torah. This means becoming ownerless and humble, like a desert. This was B’nei Yisrael’s preparation before receiving the Torah; they reached a state of MIDBAR, absolute clarity in their deficiencies and a longing for perfection. 

There are many rabbinic statements about the Midbar. It can be a metaphor for pedagogy or for a healthy human attitude. And as they used to say on late night infomercials, ‘But wait…there’s more!!’ 

Rav Moshe Taragin points out that the famous verse:

Then they went from the Desert (MIDBAR) to (the place called) Gift (MATANAH); from Gift to Permanent Possession (NACHLIEL) and from Permanent Possession to High Places (BAMOT. Bamidbar 21:18-19). This isn’t just a travelog or treasure map. It describes the evolution of our relationship with the Torah. When we made ourselves behave like a desert (humble, modest, meek), then the Torah became God’s Gift to us, our most prized possession, our Precious. After being our prized possession, the Torah became our people’s heirloom and legacy to all future generations. Finally, this patrimony raised us up to the highest heights of Kedusha.

The Netivot Shalom points out that this single minded devotion to our national legacy, which we learned from the overwhelming nature of the MIDBAR experience, turns us into God’s acolytes and representatives here on earth. He explains:

This commitment is the basis for the 48 things through which one acquires Torah (Pirkei Avot, chap. 6)…This is the SHLEIMUT (‘perfection’) which a Jew requires to reach D’VEIKUT with God, and D’VEIKUT with Torah…Through this a Jew nullifies completely himself and all his being is for God. Then one grasps the purpose (TACHLIT) of Torah and the D’VEIKUT with God.  

Rav Soloveitchik, who knew something of Torah pedagogy, flipped the script a bit. He was also fascinated by the ancient custom of reading Parshat Bamidbar on the Shabbat before Shavuot, when we commemorate the annual reacceptance of the Torah. But he expands the idea beyond the first verse of the Torah reading where we set the scene in the Midbar of Sinai. He explains that the entire Torah reading prepares us for Shavuot. Because the entirety of the parsha describes the KEDUSHA of the encampment in the Midbar. That’s the critical concept. 

The Torah can only be bequeathed and accepted when there is the format of the encampment in the Midbar: Which is 3 encampments.

Torah can only be given and accepted when the Jewish nation is organized just like at Har Sinai, just like in the Desert camp and just like in Yerushalayim when the Holy Temple stood. There must be MACHANE Yisrael (for regular Jews leading basically regular lives), MACHANE Levi’ah (where those relatively few people totally dedicated to Torah and Kedusha lived) and MACHANE SHECHINA (where the Divine Presence dwelt, and humans were almost entirely absent). 

This arrangement can be achieved anywhere we set up our nation and communities accordingly. Everybody is committed to the Torah, Halachic commonweal, but most people also work and support the whole. As the Rambam explained, anyone can become a member of the small but strong Levi’ah group (Laws of Shmitta and Yovel 13:12-13), and receive sustenance from the general population, but there must be a committed ‘general population’ to support them.

Every year we read Parshat Bamidbar to get ready for our annual reacceptance of the Torah, our annual reenactment of MA’AMAD HAR SINAI. But there must be a Har Sinai with a few people up on the slope and the vast majority down below being inspired by those above and working hard to make this Torah edifice stable. 

So, CHAG SAMEACH!! Enjoy your contribution to the continuity of Torah on whatever plateau you find appropriate. Everyone’s reward is great and no one’s contribution should ever be denigrated.