When Your Life Feels Like a "Desert" - Try This [Parshas Bamidbar]

The Book of Numbers. Bamidbar. The every book has its like nickname. Bamidbar actually means in the wilderness, in the desert. And what happens in this wilderness or in the the desert, in our parsha, the first thing that happens is we are enumerated, we're counted, so it's referred to as the Book of Numbers. The Jewish people are counted. But let's take a look at the context of the Book of Numbers, the Book of Bamidbar. For the second half of the Book of Exodus, Sefer Shemot, we discuss the construction of the Mishkan, the describe the the construction of the sanctuary, the home for God. That's like a big chunk of the Book of Exodus. And with that home for God, everything that that comes with. The garments of the Kohanim, the Mizbe'ah, the altar, everything needed to be able to create this divine space in the physical world for God. Then we move on to the Book of Leviticus, the Book of Vayikra, where we talk about what we do in that home of God. The Korbanot, the sacrifices. Then in the Book of Numbers, in the Book of Bamidbar, we talk about Jewish life surrounding that sanctuary, beyond just the service in the actual sanctuary itself. Which is our existence in the desert. And our existence in the desert gets prolonged beyond what we initially anticipated. We were supposed to go straight to Israel from from receiving the Torah. But we have a 40-year pit stop in that wilderness. And there are various mitzvahs that apply that we're going to learn about. The way the sages structured the Torah when they had um divided the Torah into the 53 parshas, it's structured in a way where we are always going to read Bamidbar prior to Shavuot. And that's the reason for the double One of the reasons for the double parshas. Why some years it's double, some years it isn't, because it the calendar is structured in a way where Bamidbar is always read before Shavuot. One of the reasons is because Shavuot, the day we received the Torah, we received the Torah in the in the midbar, in the desert, in the wilder wilderness. Because nobody has a claim of monopoly on the Torah. It's in the wilderness, it's there for anybody, it's there for everybody. As we dive into the parsha, after counting the Jewish people, after counting the various tribes, after counting the tribe of Levi, it discusses the the uh what's the word I'm looking for? It discusses the way our houses are set up. The way Jewish infrastructure looks. >> [snorts] >> And here's Here's what it says. I'm going to read the sentence and then I'll translate it. We'll unpack this because I think this really powerful and meaningful message here. It says, "Ish al diglo b'oisois." Each man is there with his flag. L'veit avosam, the flag that represents his uh his the house of his parents or of his fathers. Yachanu b'nei Yisrael. That is how b'nei Yisrael camps. So, they camp each with a flag. Doesn't mean each person has a flag, but each tribe has its own flag. So, we're supposed to be united. We're supposed to be one people. We're supposed to be all together, and this is how we were preparing for Shavuot. On the other hand, there is individualized communities. And each community has its own theme. It's own representation. Meet now, where are they camping? Ben negged from across, south, and around the Ohel Moed, the tent of meeting. Yachanu, that's how they camp. And then the Torah goes on to describe what that actually looks like specifically. And there was basically like a Think of uh the the target logo. Think of a bull's-eye. The bull's-eye of the target is where the tent of meeting is. That is where the sanctuary is. That's where the Mishkan is. Then you have that's called the Machaneh Shechinah, the camp of the divine presence of God. Surrounding that, you had the Levites, and then surrounding that, you had the Israelites. And the Torah discusses the structure, who lived in the north, who lived in the south, the east, the west, how their tents were set up, how their flags were set up. In some ways, you know, there there was an important shift over here. Because it's so easy just to skim through this part of the Torah and say, "Okay, that's a historical nuance that had taken place." When you learn the Torah from the lenses of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, this isn't exclusive to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, but but this is happens to be where this insight is from, and it's something the Rebbe would focus on a lot. When you learn the Torah with the lenses of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, there's no such thing as "Oh, this is just a historical nuance." It's teaching us something. It's teaching us something deep. It's teaching us something powerful. It's teaching us something important. What's it teaching us? >> [sighs] >> We're in the desert. Why are we in the desert, guys? In this point in history, when we're in the actual Book of Numbers, chronologically, like right now, we haven't yet received the Torah. We read it before Shavuot. But in the Book of Numbers, they've received the Torah already. So, what are we doing in the desert? We haven't had our full redemption yet. >> [crying] >> Our full redemption has not yet existed. We haven't yet made it to the land of Israel. We haven't experienced true freedom. We've left Egypt. We've got the Torah. We've become a people. We're not where we're supposed to be. We're not living the life we're supposed to live. Yet. We're in a desert. We have that in our own selves as well. We have parts of our life that feel like a desert. Like this is not where I'm supposed to be. Maybe we feel like that geographically. I'm just not in the right place. Maybe we feel like that spiritually. I'm just not where I want to be. And I'm feeling distant. I'm feeling like I'm just This is just not where where there's growth. I'm not in a place of growth. That's really what a desert is. Just a bunch of sand dunes around. It feels dry. It feels like I'm constantly needing to protect myself. And I'm just not connecting. And if only I could make it to the promised land. Only I could cross that bridge. And And that's I'm not trying to tell you, "Well, the grass is always greener on the not I'm not even going there. I'm I I do think the grass could be greener on the other side. Like we we do anticipate getting to that land. We do anticipate getting to it, but we're not there right now. We're in the desert. We're in the midbar. What preserves our identity in the midbar, in the desert, in the wilderness? What preserves our existence? What preserves our faith? What preserves our our hope? The way we camp, the way we rest. What are we doing during our breaks? What are we doing when we're not traveling toward our destination actively? Because we've stopped for whatever reason. We camp, but we camp around the Mishkan. We camp around the sanctuary of God. The center of our attention is our purpose. To make God's presence more relevant in this world. Through the Mishkan, through the Tabernacle. >> [snorts] >> While traveling in the desert, we are not in our homeland yet. And despite that, we've centered our existence around what is most important and most valuable. And uh probably more accurately, most necessary. And as we travel in our own personal desert, and we remember what's most valuable to us as a people, what's most valuable to us as an individual, that becomes the center of our existence. Being able to still do a mitzvah, being able to still connect to God, being able to to pray, to learn Torah, to do a mitzvah and do it with simcha. This builds a sanctuary for God even in the desert. >> [snorts] >> By the way, just we can put this in parentheses, but I think it's important to note, the Torah describes this sanctuary for God in the book of Exodus at great length, knowing that it was going to be temporary, knowing that ultimately we're going to go to Jerusalem and that's where the permanent temple is going to be. Or at least that's where the trip permanent temple is supposed to be. Maybe this isn't a permanent part of my life. It's still the center of my life and it's still eternal. When our purpose for which we exist is making God's presence relevant to the world, relevant to us, being able to serve God with joy, when that holiness, when that connectivity becomes the center of our life even in the desert, what happens to our experience of that desert? What's it like being in the desert at those moments? It's a less desert-like. It's less scary. >> [snorts] >> One of the things the Rebbe used to talk about a lot was not to passively wait for Mashiach to come. As if there'll be a time when Mashiach comes and when Mashiach comes we have to be ready. And what ready means is adopting the Mashiach mindset. Now, when Mashiach comes and the prophecies that Isaiah discusses, the world being filled with the knowledge of God, and because the world is filled with the knowledge of God, there's going to be peace and love and connectivity. And like he describes in his prophecies that the wolf will dwell with the lamb and the baby with the viper. Because God is so real that there's going to be so much connection. What are we going to How are we going to see the world at that moment? What's our world view going to be like? How are we going to see people at that moment? How are we going to connect with people? What's our relationship with Judaism going to be at that moment? Consider the type of passion we're going to have when that when Mashiach comes. The connectivity. Consider how real God is going to be in our lives when Mashiach comes. The thing is, that's a circumstance. And if we really want Mashiach to come, we can't be fully dependent on a circumstance. We have to create that mindset now, even while in exile. Even while in the desert. We center life around that connectivity. And what changes? Once we recenter our life around that connectivity, we might even forget that we're in a desert. We might even be more ready for Messiah than Messiah. Wouldn't that be crazy? I was once working with a couple who were going through various difficulties. They had real tension. They really liked each other. I could tell. But they had a lot of tension. And they forgot how much they like each other during those moments of tension. And those moments of tension were loud. The moments of tension were dramatic. The moments of tension um I mean scared them enough to to reach out, right? Bothered them enough to reach out. I asked them to describe the version of their relationship that they want, that they do like. Like despite being in the desert, what is the temple? What is in the middle that you're centered around? What does that look like? Well, it looks like us laughing. Looks like us being comfortable with ourselves. It looks like us enjoying ourselves. They said, "Well, we can't escape to that reality magically." I said, "If you had a moment of tension, an argument, a disagreement, maybe even a fight. I don't mean fist fight. Maybe maybe something It was an intense moment. But somehow you still knew that the version of your relationship where there's laughter and connectivity is still there. It is going to be there afterward and was there before. What would be different about how you show up to your arguments and your disagreements? I guess it wouldn't be as dramatic. It wouldn't be as final. It wouldn't be as if like, "Oh no, this is the end." Knowing that they were in a desert, but they had something else to anchor their attention toward got them ready to be in a different space. Knowing that we are in the desert, that we're traveling this desert, and it might be 40 years. Hopefully not. But in the case of the Torah, it was 40 years, but we have something meaningful to anchor our existence around. We're able to connect even in the desert. Our connection is no longer circumstantial. It's something we build and take with us. It's portable. It's part of who we are. Commentaries point out that there is the flags. What's the reason for the flags? What's the significance of the flags? It's different midrashim that talk about what a flag represents and what the images that were on each particular flag represented. The Kli Yakar says something interesting. He says a flag is a sign of victory. Because you're proud of your identity, you're willing to share it. Like there's a certain pride that you want to share. That's what a flag is. And even though we're in the desert, even though we haven't had full victory yet, geographically speaking, circumstantially speaking, but the mindset that we have traveling through this desert is that of victory. There's another commentary known as the Hada Zekanim, and he takes it a step further. He says if you look what was on each flag and the color of each flag, 12 flags that corresponded to the 12 tribes, what else corresponded to the 12 tribes that had colors? The stones on the breastplate of the Kohan Gadol. The Hoshen Mishpat. What the flags represented was the heart of the Kohan Gadol. Was that divine service, was that divine connection, was the the core identity of Jewish spiritual connection even in the desert. Going back to the positioning of how we were camped, we were all camped surrounding the Mishkan, surrounding the temple, surrounding the house of God, because even in the desert we have something important that we're constantly surrounding. If you look back at the text, it says Yachanu Benei Yisrael, Benei Yisrael camped minegged, from across, so you're surrounding across surrounding. It doesn't just say we surrounded the tent of meeting. We were across surrounding the tent of meeting. And Rashi asks the question or anticipates the question, well, what does that mean? Across surrounding it? So, he says you know what the word across means? Mean negative. It means we were a one mill distant. You know what a mill is? Mill is like half a mile, give or take. 2,000 almost. We were 2,000 almost half a mile um away from the tent of meeting. That was like the space. So, if you were to be on the the inner layer of you cuz there were multiple tents, right? So, if you were on I should have brought a picture or a diagram. But, if you're on like the inner layer you would have about a half a mill walk, no more than a half a mill walk to the tent of meeting so that oil moment. He proves this from the book of Joshua where it uses a similar phrase and it's explicit that it's 2,000 almost. But, why is that relevant? How far we were? Like the exact number? There's a lot of details that we don't know. Why is that detail shared with us? What's the significance of being within 2,000 almost of the oil moment of the tent of meeting? What is the significance in Halakha in Jewish law of 2,000 almost? That's the trum shabbos. The Halakha is that you're not allowed to walk outside the city limits where the last house is beyond one mil, beyond 2,000 almost. This applies to today. If you were to leave the city limits, you wouldn't be able to walk beyond that more than 2,000 amos. Because Shabbos which is basically half a mile, one mil. Because on Shabbos you're supposed to stay put. Shabbos is not a time for travel, even if it's not forbidden type travel like you're not on a car or horse or whatever it might be in those days. Um but we're supposed to more or less stay put. Rashi's telling us what the Torah tells us it's across within 2,000 amos, within one mil. Telling us that this place is accessible even on Shabbos. Tent of meeting, the center of our life, what matters most to us, what we care about so deeply that it anchors us and keeps us going even in the desert is accessible. You can go there. You can walk there. Nothing stopping you. Nothing's compelling you from saying I can't go. But here's the thing, guys. They weren't camping only on Shabbos. So what does this mean to us when it's not Shabbos? You know what it means? Presumably it felt like Shabbos. It's the weekday. And it's the desert. So it's a mundane day in a mundane place. And it still feels holy. Because the because the center of our life is within 2,000 is constantly accessible even during the week. It might not be the right time. It's during the week, it's not Shabbos. It might not even be the right place, we're in a desert. And somehow our connection runs deeper than time and space. Our connection isn't circumstantial. Our connection in which we center our life around is so deep and so anchoring, we're always able to connect. And when we have that, when we experience that, when we nurture that it keeps us going. Our relationships thrive better. Our passion thrives more. Our We're we're able to just do what we need to do because it's who we are, not where we are. Okay, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.