Shabbat Greetings
As we approach the festival of Shavuot, the timing of our Torah reading feels especially intentional. Each year, this week’s portion, Bemidbar (Numbers 1:1-4:20), the opening portion of the Book of Numbers, is always read on the Shabbat before the festival of Shavuot. This is not coincidental. The sages, in their wisdom, aligned these moments on the calendar deliberately—and the connection between them runs deep, both in timing and theme.
The sages preserved this arrangement across centuries, suggesting that there’s a thematic bridge between the journey through the wilderness and the moment we stood at Sinai. Why connect a census and the arrangement of tribes with the receiving of the Torah? Bemidbar opens with a census of the Israelites and the careful ordering of the tribes around the Mishkan, the portable Tabernacle. It’s a moment of structure, organization, and purpose. This is more than administrative detail—it reflects a nation preparing for something monumental.
As taught by the rabbis in a midrash (Midrash Tanchuma (Num. 1): “The Torah was given only to a people who are united and orderly.” The spiritual message is clear— the revelation at Sinai requires a people who are cohesive, who know their place and purpose within the whole. Unity is not sameness; it is harmony in diversity.
The name of the portion itself, Bemidbar, means “in the wilderness.” The Torah was given not in a palace or a city, but in a midbar—a barren, owner-less place. This location is symbolic and instructive: As such, the desert is open and empty, the opposite of pride or possession. We must be humble to receive the Torah. The wilderness is free of distractions—ideal for spiritual focus. And, the Torah was not given in anyone’s land, but in a neutral space—so no nation could claim exclusive rights. It is for everyone. By reading Bemidbar before Shavuot, we step once more into the desert—not just geographically, but spiritually. We remind ourselves of the openness and humility required to hear God’s voice.
Finally, the census in Bemidbar emphasizes not only how many people there were, but that each person counts. The giving of the Torah, likewise, is not abstract—it is personal. God addresses each person according to their capacity, their background, their soul. We are part of a nation but also seen individually by God. That dual identity—a personal soul and a national mission—is what Bemidbar prepares us to understand as we stand again at Sinai. May we merit to receive the Torah this year with fresh eyes, full hearts, and a sense of both personal calling and communal connection.
Chag Sameach and . . . . .
SHABBAT SHALOM