This week we begin Sefer Bamidbar, the Book of Numbers, which opens not with a story or a law, but with a census. God commands Moses to count the Israelites, each person accounted for by name, tribe, and family. According to Rashi, God counts the Jewish people repeatedly out of affection. Just as a person repeatedly counts precious gems, the Divine counts people to show that each individual is noticed, and no one is overlooked. To be numbered is to be seen, to matter, to belong. As we stand at the edge of the wilderness together, Bamidbar reminds us that community is not abstract. Rather it is made up of specific, irreplaceable people.
The book's Hebrew name, Bamidbar, means "in the wilderness." The wilderness is a place of transition; it is neither the Egypt behind nor the Promised Land ahead. It is, perhaps, the most honest setting for a spiritual life. So much of what it means to grow as people and in faith happens not at the destination, but in the uncertain space between. The Israelites had to learn who they were as a people in the desert, away from the familiar. I find that deeply resonant right now.
When I first came to Temple Israel two years ago, it was an unknown place to me, like a wilderness. But here, I have grown into my rabbinate. And now, as I finish my time as rabbinic intern, I once again transition to the wilderness and the unknown. Over the past few years, writing and sharing my Torah with you has been one of the quiet privileges of this role. This practice shaped me as much as anything I studied in school. As we move into my final days of this internship I have been counting you, in the spirit of Bamidbar, not as numbers, but as faces, conversations, moments of learning and of grief and of joy that I will carry with me
I go now not into the wilderness, but, b'ezrat Hashem, God willing, into the next chapter, newly ordained and full of gratitude. Thank you for letting me be part of your spiritual home and your lives here at Temple Israel. May the community that gathers and grows here, this community of incredible, irreplaceable people, continue to count and be counted, to see and be seen.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Eden
