Who is Mighty?
Parashat Bemidbar, Numbers 1:1–4:20
Dave Nichol, Congregation Ruach Israel, Needham, MA
It doesn’t take long after entering the book of Numbers (Bemidbar, the name of our parasha and the book it begins) to detect a theme. While the Hebrew name of the book derives, as usual, from one of the first key words, the English name, from the Greek Septuagint, puts it starkly: this book is about numbers. Or more accurately, it seems to be about counting, classifying, and organizing—in particular, organizing the people. As R. Avi Fertig points out in The Mussar Torah Commentary, “The middah [attribute] of seder (order) permeates the entire parashah.” The different names of the book may be related: the barren openness of the wilderness (the midbar, giving us the Hebrew name) demanded organization and coordination—including counting and arranging—for the Israelites to survive.
This theme is to be found not only in the census of the Israelites, but also in the fact that they are counted by tribe. Moses, following God’s command, recognizes leaders for tribes and clans. He also sets the relative locations of where each tribe is to camp, with the Mishkan, or Tabernacle, at the center. Levites are given special attention, with their own census and specific responsibilities for their clans.
Implied in this arrangement and classification is the concept of boundaries. The commentator Ramban (Nachmanides, 13th c. Spain, Israel) notes the importance of boundaries in the introduction to his commentary on Bemidbar. He finds a connection between the restriction on approaching the Mishkan (Num 1:51) and the restrictions on approaching Mount Sinai (see Exod 19:12). Now that we are on the move, we don’t discard the notions of holiness and separation; rather, the holy, and the boundaries it implies, move with us.
By organizing the camp in this way, Moses is engaging in multiple acts of separation, or havdalah. Reubenites camp here, Danites over there; Levites can go near the mishkan, others must not. In this sense it is a continuation of God’s creative effort, which also begins as a series of separations: distinguishing light and dark, night and day, earth and sky, land and sea. Thus the ordering of the Israelite camp is a continuation of ma’aseh bereishit, the act of creation.
This raises the question of why these passages are meaningful for us today. What might it mean to imitate God’s creation, to take marching orders from Moses’ organization of the Israelite camp (and implicitly, Israelite society)? While the effort of bringing order to the world can be focused externally (science, politics, even gardening), it is useful to first turn it inward, with a focus on ordering our own lives and communities. Lest we think that creating order in our inner lives is easier or less important, the Mishnah (Pirkei Avot 4:1) tells us:
Who is mighty (gibor)? One who subdues their [evil] inclination, as it is said: “One that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and one that rules their spirit than one that takes a city” (Proverbs 16:3).
Anyone who has tried to break a bad habit knows how true this is!
According to the kabbalistic tradition, one of the aspects of God’s interaction with the world is gevurah, or strength. It represents the ability to limit or restrain; the power to impose boundaries. As humans made in God’s image, we can reflect his attributes. Thus gevurah became associated with self-discipline and restraint in the mussar tradition of Jewish ethics, which we are drawing on in our focus on the fruit of the Spirit as we count the Omer this year.
One insight from the kabbalistic narrative is that even God engages in self-limitation, in a process called tzimtzum, making space for the universe to exist “outside” God’s self. This extraordinary act of humility and ḥesed (gracious love) allows the world to be created. Similarly, another act of self-limitation, the incarnation of Yeshua, teaches us that gevurah—literally, “strength”—is not primarily shown in conquering others, but in conquering the self in service of others.
As we approach completion of our cycle of counting the Omer, how might we cultivate this middah of self-control? As mussar is a deeply practical tradition, here are some concrete ideas that might help:
Start with awareness. Watch yourself closely. Ask your friends and family members about where you are too strict, and where you are too lax. Then watch yourself closely. Looking for self-control in snacking? Make a note in a journal each time you snack. My favorite (by which I mean most painful, and thus, least favorite) approach is to look at my children’s bad behavior, and ask myself if I’m modeling it for them (hint: usually I am). Daily journaling, a time-honored mussar practice, is another great way to build awareness.
Psychologist Mordechai Rotenberg (The Psychology of Tzimtzum: Self, Other and God) applies the concept of tzimtzum to human relationships. Make space for others instead of imposing yourself on every situation. This is where gevurah interacts with the middah of anavah/humility, which can be defined as “taking up the right amount of space: not too much, and not too little.” Do we have relationships where we should impose less of ourselves, giving others more (or less) space?
Fix things in small doses: to change a behavior, start with changing it for a short amount of time. For example, set an alarm to remind yourself to avoid that behavior between five and six each day. As that becomes manageable, build on it by expanding the time window.
We don’t live in a vacuum, so it’s important to think about the people around us. Lean in to your healthy relationships, those that encourage you to be better. Add a dose of intentionality and transparency. Do you have a mussar ḥavruta partner that you can study with, and who can give you feedback on your growth, or lack thereof? As Joshua ben Perachiah (Pirkei Avot 1:7) says, “Acquire for yourself a companion!”
Look at the systems in your life. It’s hard to change by raw force of will, but big changes can be made by setting yourself up for change in small ways. See James Clear’s Atomic Habits: An Easy & Proven Way to Build Good Habits and Break Bad Ones for some practical guidance, such as becoming aware of cues that trigger your habits, changing your environment, and making change in small, lasting increments.
Some might say that this kind of self-focused gevurah is overly individualistic, or too self-focused. “Address systemic problems first!” they might say. Without a doubt, change at a societal, systemic level is always needed. But without mussar at the individual level, any systemic change will be undermined by lack of humility, and by corruption, narcissism, ambition, and baseless hatred. Or have you not read the news recently? I firmly believe the world needs leaders who start with their own middot before addressing all the specks in others’ eyes.
In that spirit, the author Aldous Huxley wrote, “I wanted to change the world, but I have found that the only thing one can be sure of changing is oneself.” Mr. Huxley may even overstate the case . . . changing ourselves is no sure thing! But we are not free to desist from the work. May the Creator give us the strength to order our lives—as individuals, and as a community—as we set off through the desert toward the land of promise!