The struggle for unity is found in all areas of our lives

Written by Rabbi Avraham Moshe Kiper - Founder of Neve Ziviya

This year we read Parshat Bamidbar on the day preceding Rosh Chodesh Sivan. Let’s look for the connection between this Parsha and the giving of the Torah. In chapter 1 verse 19 it is written, “ According to G-d’s command to Moshe he counted them in the desert”.
The Kedushat Levi asks why this verse is written as it is. We might think that it should have been written the other way, that is, “He counted them in the desert according to G-d’s command to Moshe.” Why is the verse seemingly reversed?
He then explains that our sages teach that there are six hundred thousand letters in the Torah, corresponding to the six hundred thousand souls of the Jewish people. Moshe Rabeinu knew which letter each and every person corresponded to. Therefore when he was counting the Jewish people, he was also learning all of the letters of the Torah. That is why the verse hints to us, “According to G-d’s command to Moshe.”
It is telling us that in the process of counting, Moshe was reviewing the whole Torah- ‘G-d’s command to Moshe’ from within the souls of the Jewish people.
Before we received the Torah it is written, “And he encamped there before the mountain.” (Shmot 19:2)
The sages teach that ‘he’ is written instead of ‘they’ even though we think of the Jewish people as plural, because we were as “One man with one heart”. Once the Torah existed through the united souls of Israel it was able to come into the world in it’s actualized form.
Just as in those days we were able to reach our potential by uniting as a nation, also today it is through uniting together that will reach our goals, The coming of Moshiach and bringing the world to it’s fruition.
The struggle for unity is found in all areas of our lives; between friends, within the Jewish people, between man and his wife, unity within the home with one’s children and family.

The Angels and Us

by Shalvi Weissman

There are angels in the world who tell us that we're not good enough – and they are right! As perfect beings, angels hold up perfection as their standard of measurement, but their measurements have been getting us humans into trouble from the very beginning.

When G‑d decided to create the world, in His humility He asked the angels what they thought. The answer was, of course, "No! Don't do it! They will tell lies, they will break the rules, they will make mistakes, and it's not worth it!"

G-d never expected perfection G‑d, however, decided that despite the risk, it was a worthwhile investment- and Adam and Eve were created. His explanation to the angels was that we would be kind to each other.

When it was time to give the Torah, the angels didn't want Him to entrust it to us. Moses was in heaven for forty days and forty nights learning the Torah and preparing to bring it down to the Jewish people. The angels came to G‑d and said, "What's this lowly mortal doing up here?"

"He's come to receive the Torah and bring it down to the Jewish people."

"What?! You've got to be kidding! You are giving the greatest supernal celestial delight to a bunch of lowly human beings?! They will surely profane it! They are not deserving!"

G‑d told Moses, "Answer them."

So Moses asked them, "What does the Torah say?"

"Well, it says to honor your father and mother."

"Do you have a father and mother that you must honor? What else does it say?"

"Not to covet."

"Do angels have possessions that you need to be warned not to covet? What else?"

"Not to commit adultery…"

Moses was able to convince them that the Torah, full of laws about money, food, and relationships, clearly belonged among us and not them, but they still wanted to burn Moses up with their fiery breath. G‑d told Moses to hold on to His holy throne, and by doing so, Moses was saved and was able to deliver the Torah.

It's made for usAny spiritually sensitive individual realizes that keeping the Torah in its entirety is a near-impossible task. The angels were right. We mess it up. We make mistakes. However, that's nothing new to G‑d. He knew from the get-go exactly who he was dealing with. He made us!

How many times have you intended to help out a friend, do something special in honor of Shabbat, give your kids a better Jewish education, work on having a better relationship with your parents, etc., but when you thought it through, it seemed too hard, impossible to do perfectly/ completely/ consistently- so you forgot about it altogether?

It is almost as if we can hear the angels making their arguments against us. What they're saying is probably true. But there is a deeper truth- the truth of the truth is that even if you do one good deed one time, you have created spiritual progress that will last for all of eternity. You are bringing nachas, joy, to your Creator and holiness into your own life. The effort that you invested will never be lost.

This is something that angels don't understand. How can we get credit for what seem to them to be small successes? But they don't have to deal with the kind of stresses that humans deal with on a daily basis.

Once, G‑d decided to show them. Three angels came to visit Abraham after he was circumcised, to tell him that he was going to have a son. Abraham made them a meal to remember: veal tongues in mustard with fresh bread and the works. G‑d gave them the ability to eat just this once. For a moment those angels enjoyed sinking their teeth into a succulent meal, and they were so immersed in the pleasure of it that they lost touch with their spiritual reality a little. Ever have that happen? Of course! Food and all of the other physical pleasures can bring us closer to G‑d, but they can also make us forget ourselves and our Creator. At that moment the angels understood what it means to be human and to have to deal with the challenges that we deal with. It took them a hundred and something years to recover from the spiritual fall of that one meal and to return to heaven. It wasn't until three generations later, in the days of Jacob, Abraham's grandson, that those angels where able to go back up to heaven (this is one of the meanings of Jacob's dream of the ladder with the angels going up and down- it is said that Jacob was witnessing the return of those three angels to Heaven.)

Even Moses had to deal with doubts caused by the angels' grumblings. The Midrash teaches us that when G‑d first appeared to Moses at the 'burning bush' and asked him to go to redeem the Jewish people, Moses said no. They spent a week arguing about it. Sounds like chutzpa, but Moses really had a point. He said that he knew that although he would be able to bring the Jewish People out of Egypt to receive the Torah and go into the Land of Israel, he would not be able to purify them spiritually enough for them to attain complete redemption. He knew that they would sin after he died and be sent into an exile similar to the one they were already in. So why bother?

Sound familiar? But G‑d wanted him to go anyway. That's what we have to do as well. What Moses was saying was true, but the truth of the truth is that we must go anyway. Do the will of G‑d in this moment and don't think too much.

The truth of the truth is that this Shavuot we are going to receive the Torah. Before the holiday is over, whether we wanted to or not, most of us, in some way, will probably have violated it. G‑d still knows what He's doing when He gives it to us. You see, it's made for people who might want to steal, covet, or run amuck following their own self-will. It's made for us! We're the ones who need it, and G‑d loves us so much that He gives it to us – knowing that we're going to make mistakes, but also knowing that we will be kind to each other. Maybe a small part of that kindness is to stand by our friends' side in their moment of weakness and remind them that it's okay to be human – G‑d made us that way.

Shavuos, the less one claims Torah, the more he has of it.

Shavuos marks our personal relationship to Torah. In his wild quest to locate who stole the Torah, Satan turns to Moshe (Shabbos 89a) and asks where it is. Moshe responds to the Satan: Who am I that God would give me the Torah.

Ultimately, Satan accuses Moshe of lying. Moshe responds: True, I have the Torah – but it is not mine, for how can I possibly own God’s Torah? Hashem corrects Moshe: precisely because you diminish yourself, you now become its proprietor.

In effect, Hashem is saying that to acquire Torah, humility is the requisite trait. The great paradox of owning Torah now becomes: the less one claims Torah, the more he has of it.

A sthikle Torah on the heilige middah of kvetching from Shalvi

I'm sure that you believe in G-d. When it comes down to it, most people do. If they don't, then they say "Maybe there's a G-d." But our souls know, and when we are honest with ourselves, we know too. So where do all of the doubts come from? We all have doubts sometimes. If part of us believes in G?d, then where do these doubts seep in? The doubt is really a doubt in ourselves.

We know all of our faults and failings better than any other human alive. We know our weaknesses, our fears, our moments of utter failure.

Sometimes situations arise that seem to demand from us much more than we have: more strength, more willpower, money, patience, wisdom, holiness… If I were… If I had… then I could handle this situation. But I'm not and I don't and I can't. So there! But the situation doesn't go away! It keeps on pressing, demanding, insisting. Maybe it occasionally lets up, but before you're finished taking a deep breath it's back with a vengeance.

Imagine a guy crossing a narrow bridge over Niagara Falls. All of a sudden he feels the bridge vibrating. He looks up and sees a Mac truck racing at him at 70 mph. The truck is knocking the railing on either side, and clearly he cannot escape to the right or to the left. He turns around to run back in the direction in which he came and sees a band of African warriors racing at him screaming and fiercely brandishing blades. Opting for the most painless way out, he flings himself over the side and begins the 100 foot fall…

Okay, maybe this is an extreme example, but bear with me.

Certain death right? He's headed right for where the falls hit the water, when a powerful gust blows him about 50 feet south. He sees a tourist boat and he's headed straight at it! He screams like he's never screamed in his life, curls up in a ball and mentally says goodbye. All of a sudden he feels his back make contact. The surface seems to give a bit, and then flings him 15 feet into the air. He opens his eyes, looks down, and sees a huge trampoline surrounded by a hundred or so kids, a few clowns, and a juggler. Off to the side are balloons and a birthday cake. What?!? He comes down again with a little less force, does a summersault in the air, bounces twice more and stands up. The kids clap their hands and shout. They've never seen such a stunt. The guy climbs off the trampoline and mutters, "G?d, I owe you one!"

The next week the rent is due, and our friend doesn't have it. Work's been tough, bills are high, and he just doesn't know what to do. His best friend is getting divorced, his mom needs an operation, and his girlfriend dumps him. He gets a little depressed. He says to himself, "How could there be a G-d if I'm in such a mess?"

You want to scream at him, right?! "Stupid! G-d just saved your life in a most bizarre and miraculous manner. How could you possibly question Him?"

On the other hand, we all know and have experienced this dynamic. There are times that it's clear as day to us that there is a G-d. There are also times when we wonder and question. Often, in the times that we question, it is ourselves that we doubt more than G-d. When we're pounded against the wall, we give up. It seems that nothing could possibly improve the situation. Even G-d.

Let's look at the Parsha. Similar to our friend in Niagara, the Jewish people found themselves stuck between mortal enemies and the sea. G-d told them to walk into the water, they did, the waters split just long enough for them to walk through, and then returned to their place to drown the Egyptians. They sang to G-d in praise, men women and children, elders and babes all cried out together, "Who is like You among the heavenly powers, Hashem! Who is like You, mighty in Holiness, too awesome for praise, Doer of wonders!" In the next scene, food falls from heaven, delicious nourishing and miraculous. In the third scene, the nation arrives in a place called Refidim, which has no natural source of water. The people complain to Moshe, even though they still have water in their vessels. Moshe asks them why they are contending with him and testing HaShem. They come back two days later when their water has run out and say, "Why have you brought me up from Egypt to kill me and my children and my livestock through thirst?" G-d then commanded Moshe to hit the rock in Horeb with his staff and water would come out. Then the place is given a new name, Massa U'meriva, which means "test and contention," because the people tested HaShem, saying, "Is HaShem among us or not?" In the next scene, the Amalekites come and make war with the Israelites.

Now the Jewish people may be many things, but stupid we aren't! What kind of question is it for them to ask, "Is Hashem among us or not?" To paraphrase the Holy Zohar, they saw the Divine presence revealed in their midst. The clouds of glory surrounded them. These were the people who just moments ago saw the radiant glory of their King at the splitting of the sea. The selfsame people who experienced a year of miraculous plagues that convinced the Egyptians to set them free, yet had left the Jews unharmed. What kind of ridiculous question were they asking? They had eaten bread from heaven for breakfast that morning! Did they really think that G-d wouldn't give them water to drink? And when they noticed that there was no water, why did they complain instead of just praying to G-d for water?

Obviously something else is going on here. These people were spiritual giants. The sages say that there never was, nor will there ever be, a generation as great as the one that received the Torah. We must try to understand.

The Megaleh Amukos teaches that all of the tests, trials, and difficulties that every one of us endures were all dealt with by our grandmas and grandpas in the forty years that they wandered through the desert between leaving Egypt and entering the Holy land. Like the forty weeks of gestation, these were the years of potential before the birth of our nation was complete. Back then, the Jewish people were endowed with the strength they would need to survive thousands of years of exile. Kind of like a vaccine, they experienced a taste of all of the pains, suffering, doubt, fear, and indecision that is part of our everyday lives, and somehow they prevailed. Maybe we can learn from them.

At the splitting of the sea, the Jewish people saw their enemies killed before their eyes. All of the riches and glory that had once belonged to their oppressors was now their own. Miracles the likes of which had never occurred in the history of the world had happened before their very eyes. Probably they were feeling a little overwhelmed. Imagine a poor peasant girl who lived her whole life in hunger and poverty. One day the prince sees her and takes her and her family to his palace, all the while treating them like royalty. The peasant girl becomes a princess overnight when the prince declares his intention to marry her. On one hand she's thrilled, but on the other hand this obligates her to responsibilities and positions that she is totally unfamiliar with. She is afraid that she will not be able to live up to what is being asked of her, and instead of admitting her fear and vulnerability, she begins to criticize the prince and the accommodations that are so different from home. The fancy food does not sit well with her, the baths are drying her skin. The real question is, are you ready to take on a role greater than anything you ever imagined? Are you willing to take the risk that you might make a mistake and have to deal with the consequences? The stakes are high. Are you up for it?

Each day that passes, we saw how much G-d was investing in His relationship with us. Obviously He meant business. We were also learning more and more Torah every day. Six hundred and thirteen commandments?!? With all of the details of each and every one, we're talking millions of rules that may not always be easy to live with! How can a human being accept upon himself such a thing? For sure we will fail! And then what? Isn't it better that we don't receive the Torah, than to accept it and then fail to live up to its standards? The Torah life is hard! Besides all of the detailed obligations, HaShem wants a personal relationship with every one of us. He brings us to a place without water just so that we need to turn to Him and pray. Is this how it will be with our children? It's too much. It's hard enough for us, who are strong, but what about the generations to come who will have to suffer pain, affliction, and exile, in order to purify themselves and build a relationship with HaShem. Is it really worth it? The commentators explain that the original name of the encampment, Refidim, hints that their hands 'rafu' from the Torah. Their hands felt weak; they did not have the strength to uphold the Torah. The lifestyle demanded more than they had to offer, and they were scared. They thought it would have been better to die in Egypt than to receive the Torah, not be able to fulfill it, and die in punishment as total failures. So it wasn't that they lost their faith in G-d, rather, they had lost their faith in themselves. Torah is compared to water, and as they had abandoned the Torah in their hearts, water was not manifest in their lives. They didn't turn to G-d in prayer because it was that very relationship that they were scared of. The question that they asked, "Is G-d among us or not?" can also be read as, "Is G-d within us or not?" Is our connection deep enough that no matter how low we fall or how greatly we fail Him, He will still love us and cherish us? That was the essence of their fear. Not that G-d wouldn't be there for them, but that they (and we) would not be there for G-d in the way that befits a people meant to be a light unto the Nations.

So what did G-d do? He told Moshe to hit the rock of Horeb, the same place where they would receive the Torah in a few weeks time. The physical water was a representation of the water of Torah that would soon flow forth. It nourished and revived them, and made them aware of the holiness that already filled and sustained them. The staff that Moshe used to hit the Nile and cause devastation in Egypt was the same staff that Moshe used to hit the rock and bring blessing to us. The events in our future that might seem as scary and painful as a staff that strikes would eventually bring us strength and blessing, like the staff that nourished. It is one and the same.

HaShem was trying to show us that we needn't be afraid of failure. The path of Torah is not easy, but there is no other that is as fulfilling. The hardships themselves help us and strengthen us, form us into a stronger, greater version of who we are.

I recently joined a gym, and the instructor told me that I shouldn't do the weight machines every day, but only every other day. When we use our muscles and strain them more than they are used to bearing, the tissue breaks down a bit, but over the next day of so it regenerates and becomes stronger. The same is true for us! Whatever weakens us temporarily, strengthens us in the long run. Whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger!

In order to bring this lesson home, G-d sent Amalek to do battle with us. The numerical value of Amalek is the same as the value of the word safek, doubt. G-d sent us a physical manifestation of our own doubts, that we might battle them and prevail. We saw that we are capable of overcoming hardship. We saw that G-d was with us, and desired the relationship enough to carry us through.

Life is hard. If you don't agree, don't bother to continue reading; I'm not talking to you. In fact I don't know how you're reading this, or how you even exist, because I haven't yet met anyone who "had it easy." Nobody, including myself, likes to hear that the hard stuff is for our benefit, but too bad, it is. The question is, what do we do with these situations that press us so hard that we begin to doubt our ability to function, and maybe even our sanity?

When we are feeling weak and afraid, and we began to doubt the very basis of the life that we live, we can look to our ancestors for strength. They knew pain, worry, and fear. They knew that they were full of mistakes – mistakes of the past, and mistakes just waiting to happen. We are not infinite, all-powerful beings. It was never part of the deal. Our part is to have faith in HaShem, and faith in the faith that He invested in us. He created us. He sustained us until this moment, through great and many hardships. He loves us and continues to sustain us. The pain we are feeling may just be G-d himself pinning us to the wall and waiting for us to call out to Him to bring a salvation beyond our wildest dreams.

Shabbat Shalom,
Shalvi

The Talmud describes the Pigs Flu (Ta'anis 21B)