The Blessings Of The Past, The Hopes Of The Future: Matot-Massei
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
August 3, 2019
The Hebrew poet known simply by her first name, Zelda, wrote a beautiful poem called “To Each One, A Name.” In this famous poem, every person in the world is defined by various names—the name given by his or her parents, by the community, by their line of work, by their holidays and celebrations, by their love, and ultimately by their death.
But we are defined by more than names. Every experience we live through, every place we live in, leaves its mark on us as much as we leave our mark on it.
I was born in Israel, an ancient/modern land, nearly 70 years ago. As I look at old black and white pictures of my childhood, I barely recognize the places I lived in. So much has changed! First, a kibbutz—a settlement established early in the 20th century to absorb immigrants and then refugees from Europe’s anti-Semitism and the Holocaust. For a few months afterwards, my family lived with my grandparents in their small apartment in Tel Aviv. Then we struck out again, to Netanya, a city not far from the Mediterranean (I could see the beach from my favorite climbing tree in our backyard). I spent my early childhood there and still carry with me happy memories of friends, holidays, kindergarten and then six years of school.
Then came a long stint in the United States: more school, new friends, a new vocation.
My life is defined not only by the names given me by my family and community, but also by the experiences I gained as I moved from one place to another.
The longest chapter is one my family and I just completed: Thirty years in Boston, Massachusetts. We just sold our house there. We are now residents of yet another state. A new chapter—a new book—has begun for us.
Humanity flows like a river, through time and space. But like rivers, we carry our past with us. We carry memories of love and friendships that last long beyond the actual moment of their actual existence. We are the sum total of everything we were, as well as the hopes and fears we carry with us into the future.
The last two portions of the Torah’s fourth book (Matot-Massei, “Tribes and Journeys,” Numbers 30:2—36:13) recount the stations that the ancient Israelites traveled through during their 40 years of wandering in the Sinai Wilderness. Each place recalls a moment in our history and evolution: At Mount Sinai, the giving of the Ten Commandments; at Mt. Hor, the death of Aaron, the High Priest. Here was fought a battle against the Midianites, there a war with the evil Amalekites. Thirst, hunger, an oasis of fresh water and sweet dates in the desert—each experience is recalled in a long list that helps define the not only the physical journey of the Israelites, but also their evolution as they grow from a rabble of exhausted slaves to a free people in search of a Promised Land.
At the end of this long list, the Israelites finally find themselves on the borders of the Promised Land. They can practically see it from their vantage point in Moab, across the Jordan River.
Dusty and weary from their journey, the Israelites don’t just rush in, however. Looking back is important, but looking ahead is just as vital. The Promised Land isn’t there just for the taking. Yes, there will be wars with the Canaanites, but even beyond that, Israel’s existence must be defined by law—civil as well as religious law. Human rights—including women’s right; justice; responsibility to one another as a unified nation: These are among the important concepts Moses presents to the People at this stage of their evolution. They will not enter the Promised Land as a rabble, as an unruly mob, but rather as an organized civilization, a culture founded on the basis of law, compassion, and dignity. Moses reminds the Israelites that their duties to God are as important as their responsibilities to one another. Divided and defined by names, families and tribes, Israel is about to begin a new chapter—a new book—in its history. And as it does so, despite the many divisions between us, if we are to survive, we must see ourselves as One People, with a common history, under One God.
If the laws outlined in these chapters seem harsh and primitive, it is because at this early stage of Israel’s evolution, the lines that define us must be clearly drawn. Our rights must be clearly bound by our responsibilities; our freedoms are not infinite, but must also be defined by our obligations—to God, to ourselves, and to one another.
Israel’s evolution does not end with the Book of Numbers. A fifth book of the Torah is about to commence. D’varim, Deuteronomy, will introduce new ideas into our philosophy, religion and way of life. A new part of our history is about to begin.
As the poem by Zelda gently reminds us, we are defined by the names by which we are known. This week’s Torah portion teaches us that we are also identified by the times and places we live in and by the cultures that surround us. We are Israel, a people distinguished as much by our relationship with our God as by the laws, customs and traditions that we follow.
The Torah could have concluded at the end of its fourth book, Numbers. However, there is yet more to come. Much, much more. The book of Deuteronomy, a document that will be discovered in the Temple in Jerusalem almost five hundred later, represents the beginning of the rest of our history.
Each ending is a new beginning. Each summary is also an introduction. We carry our past with us. Some events are sad, others are joyful. The lessons we draw from each experience, from each stop and station in our life, help us to understand our mission and purpose in life as we go forward. Israel’s history, one of the longest and oldest of any people in the world, is filled with memories and morals; all are a part of who we are today. Our past helps us understand who we must be now, as we begin each new day, with each new page and chapter, with each new book and each new eon.
Chazak, chazak v’nit’chazek: May we be strengthened by our past, encouraged as we go forward into the future, and may every day of our life be defined by the blessings that fill each moment of our existence.
© 2019 by Boaz D. Heilman
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