Shavuot, Bamidbar and Memorial Day—A Joint Commemoration

Shavuot and Memorial Day—A Joint Commemoration

Sermon on Shabbat Bamidbar (Numbers 1:1-4:20)

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

May 25, 2012     4 Sivan, 5772

This weekend we will be observing a day of remembrance for all those who have served and fallen in the service of our country.  It’s Memorial Day.

How interesting that this Shabbat we will also be reading Parashat Bamidbar, the first portion of the book of Numbers, the fourth book of the Torah.  Bamidbar means “in the wilderness,” referring to the Israelites’ 40-year wanderings through the Sinai Desert.  However, the book got its English name from the fact that Moses is instructed by God at this moment to count up, to number, his people.  This first census, however, is not complete; it encompasses only a portion of the people—only those who will defend the rest of their nation, all men “From twenty years old and upwards, all who are fit to go out to the army in Israel.”

Not all the good intentions in the world, not even Holiness itself, can guarantee the safety of a people if it doesn’t have an army.  It’s a sad truth, but a truth nonetheless.  In the wilderness of life, it’s best to play it safer.  Hope, faith, altruistic idealism are all nice, but without some sheer strength behind them, there’s not much chance of us or them lasting longer than a week or two.

Through the prism lens of Memorial Day, one can see not only one war but also all the wars we’ve ever fought.  One blending into the next, the causes of the next war are already rooted in this one.

Yet Memorial Day is more than just about the little or big wars of our lives.

Memorial Day is also the official beginning of summer.  And—oh!—how great is that?!  To children, summer spells vacation.  To parents, it’s a bit of respite.  A time to catch up on some rest, or travelling, reading, or just spending some extra family time at home.  The plentitudes of life strike us at this season.  The ample sun and rain—thank God—have hopefully resulted in a rich harvest.  Fruit is ripening on trees, and vegetables plants are growing quickly.  This is the season I look toward on all other days of the year. 

Still, for most of us, the range of feelings runs the gamut this weekend.  From remembrance and sadness to expectation and happiness.   There is no life without loss, we know that. We know that there is no peace without some struggle before it.

At times, the feelings run into each other.  Remembering the laugh of a fallen friend, our heart takes flight for a moment; only to falter and sink a moment later with the realization of his loss, of his absence from our side and company.

Yet we celebrate, knowing that life continues because of the sacrifices that had been made.  We do not leave the past behind us; we take the memories, both of the good and of the bad, with us.  And, looking around us and ahead, we make plans to build new worlds, new homes, to plant new crops and tend to them.

Relying on the strength of those who “go out to the army” to serve their nation means we show them our gratitude.  Not only by saying “thank you,” but also by living as they would hope we live:  by the light of the ideals we all share, that we all pay allegiance to. 

Shavuot serves as the Jewish equivalent of this seasonal celebration of life’s journey and blessings.  At first Shavuot served only as an agricultural festival, the Festival of the First Fruit.  But later, by the first century, it assumed yet a new role—a celebration of our people’s receiving the Torah.  Yes, we celebrate this amazing gift.  But along with the joy come the also the lessons of the Torah, those ideals we had promised to learn and live by.  It’s a Day of Remembrance all its own, a day of feeling grateful for the blessings of our life, as well as a day set aside for repeating our vows with God.

These two holidays—Memorial Day and Shavuot—which coincide on this weekend—have two things in common:  first, that on them both we remember the past even as we give thanks for the present moment; but also that on these two days we remember that there are two kinds of strength we need to rely on if we have any hope of surviving another year, of making it into the Promised Land.  Just as it isn’t enough to rely only on God’s promise of a Land Flowing with Milk and Honey, so also it isn’t enough to rely on the sheer physical strength of our armed forces.  We couldn’t survive if it weren’t for both kinds of strength—the strength of our hands as well as that of our faith and ideals.

A commitment to one must always be joined to a commitment to the other.  Physical strength and spiritual strength.  Without them, we just couldn’t survive.

This Shavuot, as Jews, we renew our vows with God.  Once again, we accept God’s Torah, promising to study—and try to live by—its rules and regulations.

On this Memorial Day, as Americans, we dedicate ourselves to remembering those who have served in all our wars, as well as those who continue to serve, today and tomorrow, in our country’s defense.  We pay tribute to those whose lives were lost in past struggles, honoring them not only by planting flags at their grave marks, but also by upholding—and actively furthering—the very ideals for which they lived and died—freedom, justice, equality, love and compassion.

Kein y’hi ratzon.

©2012 by Boaz D. Heilman