The Lord spoke to Moses in the Sinai Desert, in the Tent of Meeting on the first day of the second month, in the second year after the exodus from the land of Egypt, saying. Take the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel, by families following their fathers’ houses; a head count of every male according to the number of their names (Bamidbar 1:1-2).

The fourth book of the Torah begins in a rather non-dramatic fashion – a count, a simple tallying of the tribes. But why was this necessary? At first glance it would appear this was done in preparation for entry into the Land of Israel. The Jewish people would have to raise an army to fight against the indigenous nations of Canaan. God commands Moshe to count the men from age twenty in order to ascertain the size of the national fighting force. However, Levi is counted separately from the other tribes and is reckoned from the age of one month. This leads Rashi to explain that it was not to gauge the size of the potential army, rather, “Mitoch Chibasan L’fanav Moneh Osam B’Chol Shaah, Because of His (God’s) love for them (Jewish people); He counts them at every moment.” This was not a utilitarian count, it was a love count. God commands Moshe to count to show the people how much He cares about us as a nation and as individuals.

But then something fascinating occurs. “These are the descendants of Moses and Aaron on the day that the Lord spoke to Moses at Mount Sinai. These are the names of the sons of Aaron: Nadab the firstborn Abihu, Elazar, and Ithamar (Bamidbar 3:1-2).” The Torah begins to list the offspring of Aharon and Moshe and yet, only Aharon’s children are mentioned and Moshe’s are not. What is the meaning of this omission?

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888) explains:

“For in all these chapters of numbers, only those are mentioned of the dead who formed the separate branches of the tribes and families, but of the living only those are named who had some official public position as Nesiim (tribal princes) and Kohanim (priests). But our Moses allowed his sons to be quite absorbed in the masses without any special distinction, he did not even have a small position, a tiny title, a small badge for his own children (Bamidbar 3:1).”

There were two different groups of individuals listed in the counting – those who founded the major families and had since died and those who became contributors and assumed active positions of leadership within the Jewish people. Moshe’s sons are not counted by name (they are included in the total tally) because they did not contribute to the Jewish people in a substantive manner; they were absorbed in the masses. Aharon’s sons were given the mantle of the priesthood. They served, they contributed, and they gave.

Our precious Torah is conveying to us a truly profound lesson. Life is about rolling up your sleeves and seeing what you can do to advance your family, your community, your people, and your world. Too often, we sit back and expect others to do for us, to give to us, and to provide for us. Too often, we expect that others will do the heavy lifting while we sit on the side and benefit from the fruits of their labor. This unfortunate mindset is prevalent in many areas of life. Spouses assume that the other will do the necessary work to improve the marriage – I’m ready and willing to have a blissful marriage, but you, my significant other, should do all the work. Parents want their children to be committed and passionate Jews but sometimes fail to be true spiritual role-models. We are quick to point out the flaws in our schools, shuls, communities, leaders, and nation – but are we committed enough to actually work to improve them?

The counting conducted in the beginning of Bamidbar is no ordinary count – it is the “who’s who” of the Jewish people. It is a distinguished list of names of the living and dead. It is the Judaic honor role that pays homage to those who dedicated themselves to advancing the nationhood and destiny of the Jewish people. For whatever the reason, Moshe’s children did not follow in the footsteps of their illustrious father. They did not lead lives of committed contribution; they did not dedicate their abilities and talents to the Jewish nation.

Our goal is to forge a meaningful identity that will continue to inspire even when we are no longer here. We must roll up our sleeves. We have to work, we have to contribute. We cannot be spectators in our personal, communal, and national lives. We must rise to the occasion and make a difference whenever and wherever we can. This Shabbos we will read the names of men who lived thousands of years ago but through whose efforts we live today. Let us become the kind of people whose efforts will shape the world in which we live and whose memories will inspire for generations to come.

“The Lord spoke to Moses saying: Only the tribe of Levi you shall not number, and you shall not reckon their sum among the children of Israel. But you shall appoint the Levites over the Tabernacle of the Testimony, over all its vessels and over all that belong to it; they shall carry the Tabernacle and they shall minister to it, and they shall encamp around the Tabernacle. When the Tabernacle is set to travel, the Levites shall dismantle it; and when the Tabernacle camps, the Levites shall erect it; any outsider [non- Levite] who approaches shall be put to death.” (Bamidbar 1:48-51)

Every tribe, every Jew, every man, woman and child is important in the eyes of God. We each have a unique mission and destiny. We each have different roles and responsibilities. The Tribe of Levi was chosen by God to serve in the Mishkan (and later in the Beis Mikdash) and dedicate their lives to the service of God and the Jewish people. During the 40-year sojourn in the desert, the Tribe of Levi had an additional role: to carry the Mishkan from location to location. The Baal Shem Tov comments that when the Torah describes the role of the Leviim it says, “u’vinsoa ha’mishkan yoridu oso, when you travel, they shall dismantle it.” The primary role of Levi was to show the people how to take down and deconstruct. Throughout life we spend time and energy building a life edifice and framework. Then one day we look at it and realize that it is not as it should be. We are not living the way we need to be living, we are not the kind of person we know we can and should be. But we have invested so much time and resources into “building” this life. We are too sacred and unsure to knock it down and start again. Sometimes, “when the Tabernacle is set to travel,” when we know we need to make changes and start living the life we should be living, “the Levites shall dismantle it,” we must find the courage to knock down what we have built and start again.  

King Solomon writes: “There is a time for all things …. A time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot that which is planted.” (Koheles 3:2) The wise King Solomon doesn’t say, “there is a time to plant and a time to harvest.” Instead he tells us that there is a time to “uproot.” There are times in life when we must uproot what we have planted because it is no longer the right fit. It may have seemed appropriate when we began the endeavor, but we change, the world changes and sometimes the very things which once were acceptable and good, must be deconstructed and uprooted.

It is then after we dismantle, like the tribe of Levi, we must rebuild. Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook zt’l wrote:

יש עבודת ה’ מיוחדת, לקחת דברים מפורקים ולבנות אותם. כל דבר מפורק בהתחלה היה שלם. נעים לראות דבר שלם, אבל יש עבודה מיוחדת לקחת את המפורק ולהחזירו לשלמותו.

“There is a special form of Avodas Hashem (service of God), to take things which are in pieces and make them whole.  Everything which is broken was initially whole. It is beautiful to see something which is complete and whole, but there is a unique privilege to in taking that which is in pieces and returning it to completion.”

We are just a few days away from the Yom Tov of Shavuos, the day on which we celebrate the great miracle of Sinaitic revelation. But we are not merely observing a historical event. Shavuos offers us the opportunity to reaccept and reaffirm our commitment to our Torah, the opportunity to start again. If we are broken, Shavuos gives us the strength to rebuild. If we are blemished, Shavuos gives us the chance the heal. If we need to make changes, Shavuos gives us the strength to start changing. But starting again, healing and changing are exceptionally difficult because often they require us to knock down certain life structures. At times, the life or personality we have built doesn’t provide the proper framework for who we really want to be. There are things in our lives that we must knock down, emotional or personalistic structures we must raze because they are getting in the way of growth.  Let us find the strength of Levi. To move our Mishkan to the next location often requires some deconstruction and demolition. Let us beready to deconstruct the things which are holding us back and we can look forward to great wave of joy we will experience when we put the pieces back together.

“The Lord spoke to Moses saying: Only the tribe of Levi you shall not number, and you shall not reckon their sum among the children of Israel. But you shall appoint the Levites over the Tabernacle of the Testimony, over all its vessels and over all that belong to it; they shall carry the Tabernacle and they shall minister to it, and they shall encamp around the Tabernacle. When the Tabernacle is set to travel, the Levites shall dismantle it; and when the Tabernacle camps, the Levites shall erect it; any outsider [non-Levite] who approaches shall be put to death.” (Bamidbar 1:48-51)

Every tribe, every Jew, every man, woman, and child, is important in the eyes of God. We each have a unique mission and destiny. We each have different roles and responsibilities. The Tribe of Levi was chosen by God to serve in the Mishkan (and later in the Beis Mikdash) and dedicate their lives to the service of God and the Jewish people. During the 40-year sojourn in the desert, the Tribe of Levi had an additional role, to carry the Mishkan from location to location. The Baal Shem Tov comments that when the Torah describes the role of the Leviim it says, “U’vinsoa ha’mishkan yoridu oso (When you travel, they shall dismantle it).” The primary role of Levi was to show the people how to take down and deconstruct. Throughout life we spend time and energy building a life edifice and framework. Then, one day, we look at it and realize that it is not as it should be. I am not living the way I need to be living. I am not the kind of person I know I can and should be. But I have invested so much time and resources into “building” this life. I am too scared and unsure to knock it down and start again. Sometimes, “When the Tabernacle is set to travel,” when you know you need to make changes and start living the life you should be living, “the Levites shall dismantle it,” you must find the courage to knock down what you have built and start again.

King Solomon writes: “There is a time for all things…A time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot that which is planted.” (Koheles 3:2) The wise King Solomon does not say, “there is a time to plant and a time to harvest.” Instead, he tells us that there is a time to “uproot.” There are times in life when we must uproot what we have planted because it is no longer the right fit. It may have seemed appropriate when it was first planted and the endeavor began, but we change, the world changes, and sometimes the very things which once were acceptable and good, must be deconstructed and uprooted.

It is then after we dismantle, like the tribe of Levi, we must also rebuild. Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook zt’l wrote:

“יש עבודת ה’ מיוחדת, לקחת דברים מפורקים ולבנות אותם.  כל דבר מפורק בהתחלה היה שלם.  נעים לראות דבר שלם, אבל יש עבודה מיוחדת לקחת את המפורק ולהחזירו לשלמותו.”

There is a special form of Avodas Hashem (service of God), to take things which are in pieces and make them whole.  Everything which is broken was initially whole. It is beautiful to see something which is complete and whole, but there is a unique privilege in taking that which is in pieces and returning it to completion.

We are just a few days away from the Yom Tov of Shavuos, the day on which we celebrate the great miracle of Sinaitic revelation. But we are not merely observing a historical event. Shavuos offers us the opportunity to reaccept and reaffirm our commitment to our Torah. Shavuos offers us the opportunity to start again. If we are broken, Shavuos gives us the strength to rebuild. If we are blemished, Shavuos gives us the chance the heal. If we need to make changes, Shavuos gives us the strength to start changing. But starting again, healing and changing are exceptionally difficult because often they require us to knock down certain life structures.

At times, the life or personality I have built does not provide the proper framework for who I really want to be.  There are things in my life that I must deconstruct, emotional or personalistic structures, I must raze because they are getting in the way of growth. Let us find the strength of Levi to take down the personalistic Mishkan of today in order to build the beautiful Mishkan of tomorrow.

“The Lord spoke to Moses in the Sinai Desert, in the Tent of Meeting on the first day of the second month, in the second year after the exodus from the land of Egypt, saying. Take the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel, by families following their fathers’ houses; a head count of every male according to the number of their names.” (Bamidbar 1:1-2)

The fourth book of the Torah begins in a rather non-dramatic fashion: a count, a simple tallying of the tribes. But why was this necessary? At first glance it would appear this was done in preparation for entry into the Land of Israel. The Jewish people would have to raise an army to fight against the indigenous nations of Canaan. God commands Moshe to count the men from age twenty in order to ascertain the size of the national fighting force. However, Levi is counted separately from the other tribes and is reckoned from the age of one month. Rashi explains the count was not to gauge the size of the potential army, rather, “Mitoch Chibasan L’fanav MonehOsam B’Chol Shaah (Because of [God’s] love for the [Jewish people]; He counts them at every moment.)” This was not a utilitarian count, it was a love count, to show how much He cares about us as a nation and as individuals.  

 But then something fascinating occurs. “These are the descendants of Moses and Aaron on the day that the Lord spoke to Moses at Mount Sinai. These are the names of the sons of Aaron: Nadab the firstborn Abihu, Elazar, and Ithamar.”(Bamidbar 3:1-2) The Torah begins to list the offspring of Aharon and Moshe and yet, only Aharon’s children are mentioned and Moshe’s are not. What is the meaning of this omission?

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888) explains:

“For in all these chapters of numbers, only those are mentioned of the dead who formed the separate branches of the tribes and families, but of the living only those are named who had some official public position as Nesiim (tribal princes) and Kohanim (priests). But our Moses allowed his sons to be quite absorbed in the masses without any special distinction, he did not even have a small position, a tiny title, a small badge for his own children.” (Bamidbar 3:1)

 There were two different groups of individuals listed in the counting. Those who founded the major families and had since died and those who became contributors and assumed active positions of leadership within the Jewish people. Moshe’s sons are not counted by name (though they are included in the total tally) because they did not contribute to the Jewish people in a substantive manner. Aharon’s sons were given the mantle of the priesthood. They served and they contributed.

Our precious Torah is conveying to us a truly profound lesson. Life is about rolling up your sleeves and seeing what you can do to advance your family, your community, your people and your world. Too often, we sit back and expect others to do for us, to give to us and to provide for us. Too often, we expect that others will do the heavy lifting while we sit on the side and benefit from the fruits of their labor. This unfortunate mindset is prevalent in many areas of life. Spouses assume that the other will do the necessary work to improve the marriage saying, “I’m ready and willing to have a blissful marriage, but you, my significant other should do all the work.” Parents want their children to be committed and passionate Jews but sometimes fail to be true spiritual role-models. We are quick to point out the flaws in our schools, shuls, communities, leaders and nation, but are we committed enough to actually work to improve them?

The counting conducted in the beginning of Bamidbar is no ordinary count. It is the “who’s who” of the Jewish people. It is the Judaic honor role that pays homage to those who dedicated themselves to advancing the nationhood and destiny of the Jewish people. For whatever the reason, Moshe’s children did not follow in the footsteps of their illustrious father. They did not lead lives of committed contribution; they did not dedicate their abilities and talents to the Jewish nation.  

Our goal is to forge a meaningful identity that will continue to inspire even when we are no longer here. We must roll up our sleeves. We have to work, we have to contribute. We cannot be spectators in our personal, communal and national lives. We must rise to the occasion and make a difference whenever and wherever we can. This Shabbos we read the names of men who lived thousands of years ago but through whose efforts we live today. Let us become the kind of people whose efforts will shape the world in which we live and whose memory will inspire for generations to come.