God is not just a God of order; he desires for us to draw near to him. As we begin the Book of Numbers, we remember how he cared for our ancestors by numbering them and giving them freedom from bondage.  Further, he invites them into intimacy, into a covenant that is alive and well today. Our challenge is: Will we accept it?

What is surrender? Simply put, it is giving up our idea of how our lives should be run and accepting God’s idea for us. As he lays out his direction for our lives, we display that Abraham-like trust.

The offering and Priest — the Shepherd and the Lamb

Glory to the One who died and rose again

And is the great I Am

The Shepherd and the Lamb

Hallelujah!

Holiness means being set apart, but not just from something. It means being set apart to Someone. That’s the difference. If holiness is only separation, you end up with legalism. If it’s only connection, you end up with compromise. Torah holds both together.

When grace is received, it often feels like a lifting, a release from heaviness long carried. Something shifts within, as though the gravity of the soul has changed.‍ The rabbinic tradition gives language to this transformation. “Great is repentance, for it can transform even deliberate sins into merits” (Yoma 86b). What once weighed us down can, through grace, become the very ground of renewal.‍

Our sages recognized the importance of distinction and taught us to bless the “One who makes creatures different,” affirming that diversity itself is part of the Divine wisdom. Each person, each animal, each role, reflects a different facet of God’s glory. When these distinctions are honored within a framework of love and covenant, they do not divide us—they deepen our capacity to see one another and to see God more fully.

Oy vey! What tumultuous times we are living in! Right when it seems that we hit a new low, there seems to be another one. Whether it be the troubling war in the Middle East, the shaky economy in the USA, or the increasingly ugly presence of antisemitism, there seems to be no shortage of things to worry about. Many people consequently have hit new lows of anxiety and despair. This sounds like the perfect time for a Seder!

It may be normal to be anxious as we’re bombarded with reports of antisemitic violence. But the Survivors’ Haggadah (published in 1946 for Jews still in European DP camps observing their first Passover after World War II) declares, “The seder is a protest against despair.”

Our awareness of the distance between humanity and a holy God recalls the famous image from Michelangelo’s painting of the Creation. God and Adam are reaching out to each other with fingers extended but not touching. “In Israel, however, unlike the Sistine Chapel,” notes one commentator, “they do make contact!”  

Our parasha portrays a rarely seen and crucial harmony between divine desire and human motivation. It is a harmony between the exterior — the expressed will of God, and the interior — the heart and will of human beings. This harmony portrayed in Torah reaches its crescendo in the blessings of the New Covenant, and its final cadence in the world to come.