Chaim Ingram

THRUST AND TRUST An Essay for Parshat Chukkat

In the finest books, movies, pieces of music or works of art, the silences and spaces sometimes speak more powerfully than the words, sounds and images. (Witness for example that magic moment of soundlessness prior to the introduction of the Ode to Joy theme in Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.) We would expect no less in the very finest book ever written!

Following the first chapter in our sidra (Num. 19), we encounter the most stentorian silence in all literature.  A sweeping silence encompassing almost 38 wondrous years.

We know that these years were tranquil and even blissful only from a passage earlier in Sefer Bemidbar where we are told at length that throughout these years “at the word of G-D the Bnei Yisrael journeyed and at the word of G-D they encamped … whether for a day and a night … or a month or a year … they remained faithful to their charge” (Num 9:15-23).

Apart from the names of the forty-two encampment stations listed in the final sidra of the book, we are told nothing else about these years. The Torah is silent.  But the silence is more eloquent than any words. We know what we need to know.  The people trusted in their G-D no matter what!

It was not ever thus.  The tapestry of their first two years’ travel in the desert encompassed shades of both great light and alienating darkness. We have been recounting the litany of several rebellions in these past few weeks’ Torah readings. Chronologically (following Ibn Ezra and others) the last and most consequential of them was the cheit ha-meraglim, the incident of the spies, their determination to reconnoitre the land for themselves, the injection of fear to conquer the Land in the hearts of the people and the resultant detention of the people in the desert for forty years until the able-bodied men who had outright rejected G-D’s gilt-edged invitation to possess the “land of milk and honey” had all passed on.

Actually that wasn’t the very final incident prior to the silent 38 years. After the sentence is passed, the people realise what they have lost and vainly attempt to go up and conquer the Land without G-D’s blessing or permission (Num 14:40-45). They delude themselves that they can now rely on their own might to conquer the land they hadn’t wanted when G-D was prepared to help them.

The two incidents – refusal to enter the Land when G-D wished them to and determination to conquer it when He didn’t – are actually two sides of the same coin. The people thrust their own will in G-D’s face, relying upon the infallibility of their own judgement.  Their level of trust in G-D was close to zero.

Seen in this context, we can now even more fully appreciate the magnificence of the nation’s response during the ensuing 37-plus years. It was the most far-reaching act of moral self-discipline ever achieved.

RaMBaM (1135-1204) in Mishneh Torah (De’ot 2:2) declares that with regard to most character-traits, “a person who swayed in the direction of one extreme should move in the direction of the opposite extreme and accustom himself to that for a long time before moving back to the proper path which is the middle-road”.

On the scale of one to ten, one being total wilfulness in the face of G-D’s protection and ten being total reliance on G-D’s protection, the people would have scored somewhere between nought and two from after they left Mount Sinai until the forty-year detention sentence was decreed  The cheit hameraglim was the nadir

However, shaken to the very core by the after-shock of that episode, anticipating the RaMBaM’s sage advice, they summoned the moral resources to move to the other extreme of total reliance on G-D for a prolonged period – almost 38 years in fact – and would assuredly have scored a consistent ten.

But it was the will of G-D that ultimately the people would move to the golden milddle-path. They would not remain totally passively dependent on G-D’s protection but rather engage in hishtadlut (active endeavour) in order to take possession of their Land and conduct a normal and natural life there albeit with G-D’s unwavering help and support commensurate with the people’s efforts,

The Bnei Yisrael were well aware that this was G-D’s plan.  This accounts for the fact that the sweet serenity of obedience to G-D was suddenly and dramatically broken in the twentieth chapter of Sefer Bemidbar.  We find ourselves abruptly transported as if on Dr. Who’s Tardis from the second to the fortieth and final wilderness year. Miriam has died and Aaron is soon to follow. These were the two spiritual giants in whose merit the well of water and the clouds of glory kept the people going in the desert.  They sense, possibly, that Moses’ demise may also be perilously close.  In his merit the manna fell.  And so, on the brink of the Promised Land, the nation reverts to panic mode as it understands that very soon the manna, the well and the clouds will be no more.  Faith and trust in G-D drains away.  As it does, the manna ceases to retain its miraculous gustatory qualities and appears bland and insubstantial (Num 21:5).

G-D’s response is to send fiery snakes that bite the people and, alas, give them just cause to cry out.  When Moses prays on their behalf, as they request, G-D tells him to “make a fiery serpent and place it on a banner whereupon anyone who was bitten will look up at it [and at Heaven] and live!” (21:8).

Not only does this serve to remind the people that it is not the snake that bites or cures but rather G-D. (Talmud, Rosh HaShana 29a).  It also gives a strong, unmistakable message that neither thrust nor trust alone is enough.  The people are to make a copper snake and hoist it high.  This represents practical hishtadlut.  Then they are to look up and pray to G-D.  A combination of the two approaches of thrust and trust will bring healing!

This heady message hit home.  Immediately the people begin to actively take possession of the lands of Sichon and Og while not forgetting to utter an ecstatic prayerful song (21:10-35). At last the pendulum gravitates towards the desirable golden mean which RaMBaM advocates. The nation is ready at last for the Promised Land!

**************

A key principle of Scriptural exegesis is ma’aseh avot siman le-banim, what happens to our ancestors is a sign of what is to similarly challenge their descendants!

In the beginning, the progeny of the dor ha-midbar trusted in G-D.  But sadly over several centuries, our nation began more and more to believe solely in the “work of their hands” – in more than one sense.  Eventually we were banished into the desert of exile. A long, almost endless silence prevailed. In galut, wandering from one temporary stopping-place to another, sometimes with just the shirt on our back, we veered to the other extreme, grew submissive and acquiescent and content to be reliant on G-D alone to deliver us from our exile. We found blessing and spiritual bliss in our banishment

But in our era with its dramatic happenings in the life of our nation, we are being thrust back to the derekh ha-emtsa’it, the middle way. We, or at least some of us, have come to understand that we may be nearing the end of our long journey and that “G-D helps those who also try to help themselves” (R’ Shimon Schwab, 1908-1995). Both faith and hishtadlut are necessary.  However, post Medinat Yisrael, many have unfortunately veered too much back towards the wilful, thrustful, headstrong extreme of earlier times where trust in G-D barely features and only “the power and might of my hands” (Deut 8:17) is what gets me success!. (An attitude that led in great part to the tragic events of Simchat Torah 5783.)  At the other pole, there are those who believe that the Jewish State is the most profound galut of all and there is absolutely nothing we can do to hasten the Ge’ula. Instead, they say, we just have to sit back and passively wait.

The ultimate challenge for us as a nation is to finally get the balance right, walking RaMBaM’s golden median path, trusting G-D to send the Geu’la  but at the same time believing our moral, spiritual and practical actions can and will help!  Then at last we shall surely merit the promised land of full Redemption

About the Author
Rabbi Chaim Ingram is the author of five books on Judaism. He is a senior tutor for the Sydney Beth Din and the non-resident rabbi of the Adelaide Hebrew Congregation. He can be reached at judaim@bigpond.net.au
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