Stand Up & Be Counted: Expressing Yourself In Ways That Really Count (A Belated Parsha Post for Parshas Bamidbar)

Shavua tov! I had the pleasure and honor this past Shabbos of leading my local Ladies' Shabbos Shiur (class). Every week during the months between Pesach and Rosh Hashanah when Shabbos is a bit longer, women in the community gather on Shabbos afternoon to learn the week's Torah portion together. Each week a different woman hosts and/or leads the class. This is truly such a special community, and in that way, there are so many delicious flavors of learning. Before relocating back to this area last year, I visited during a Shabbos and was so drawn to and moved by this group of women sitting and learning together on a hot Shabbos afternoon in July. Shortly after moving back, I led my first shiur and just about plotzed from being so nervous! I told myself I could never teach anyone over the age of five, and all of the women in my community look strikingly good for whatever ages they are, but I'm sure most of us are about six or above... Nonetheless, this is such a warm, welcoming and truly special community. And what time could possibly be more meaningful to have had the privilege and honor of teaching again than during the week of Parshas Bamidbmar, right before Shavuos, just as I am preparing to move on from the area and begin my life as a married woman!

For a parsha having to do with traversing through the desert, this was one rainy Shabbos! The shiur ended up being a rather cozy one, and of course, everyone who was there was meant to be in the room and those who could not make it were there in thought and essence. And for those who may not have been there physically due to the weather, the inevitable Shabbos shluff, living too far away or not being of the female persuasion, here is the D'var Torah I gave this past Shabbos on Parshas Bamidbar.

Bamidbar means "in the desert." What comes to mind when you think of a desert? Perhaps desolate, arid, dry, hot, uncultivated, wasteland, nothingness. No water, no vegetation, no nourishment... In so many ways, this is symbolic of our modern physical world. Originally created as a Garden of Divinity, our world has become a "desert," an uncultivated wasteland. We, the Jewish people, have been given the Divine Mission to restore this world to its original lush, Divine state, a place worthy of housing the Shechinah (Divine Presence).
Unlike traversing through a true desert, however, in which there is no water, no vegetation, no nourishment or means of survival, the Jewish people have been given the very special gift of the Torah. The Torah is not just a historical text documenting our physical journey through time. The Torah is not only an owners' manual cluing us in to the intricate functions of the world both within and around us. The Torah is not simply a GPS directing our thoughts, words, and footsteps. Nor is it merely a cookbook listing ingredients to the recipe for happiness and success. It is in fact all of these things and so much more. It is the ultimate smartphone with a direct connection to our Creator.
The Torah is a gift we collectively received at Har Sinai, a gift we renew each year at Shavuos. It's a ketuba (marital contract) between G-d and every Jew. This is a relationship we rekindle as often and as instantly as we might choose. Through its mitzvos and tefillos, we dial in to our Creator. In that way, we are never really at a loss in this journey through the Midbar. Each morning we rise and say "Modeh ani," each time throughout our day we stop to daven or say Tehillim or learn, each bracha we say before we eat, each candle we light for Shabbos or Yom Tov--this is the way Home. As desolate and expansive as this desert may feel, HaShem is never out of reach. He is always watching, always listening, always waiting. The door is always open, the light is always left on. And everything we could ever need, desire, or hope for to restore this desert into the lush Gan Eden it once was is already within and around us. The means by which to attain that are all within the Torah. As our great sages said: "Turn the pages, turn the pages, everything is in it..."
As Shavuos nears, I feel a strong sense of awe at the gift I received in being born a Jew. For so many this path that was revealed at Sinai has not been a direct route. For all of the years I spent reaching my hands to the Heavens saying "Here I am, count me, count me!" I was not yet ready. I felt a consistent sense of disconnect. There are so many people that inspired and influenced my journey and continue to do so. These are true leaders, each in his/her own right. This is the time of year I am reminded that each of us is a ba'al teshuva. Torah and Yiddishkeit is something we choose again and again in each given moment; that is a gift of G-d's unconditional love. And as a ba'al teshuva, the leaders who made the greatest impact on my path are not the ones who led with fanfare or taught directly, but rather the ones who quietly led by example and taught through modeling. They are the true leaders who through their kindness, patience and sincerity showed me that everything I need, I have--and everything I have, I need. Through this, I came to understand that in order to gain the ability to hold on to the G-dliness that is within and around us, we must also be willing to let go of the ego that holds us back. We must save the energy we spend on grasping old hurts and fears and misconceptions and instead strengthen our faith and trust.
The month we are in, Sivan (meaning twins) gives forth the idea of two conflicting forces: matter versus spirit, duality versus unity. From Parshas Bamidbar we learn that our common, collective identity is part of the Divine Soul. Therefore the Divine Soul is inherently part of us. Paradoxically, that same G-dliness that makes us all part of the Divine whole, also makes us the unique individuals we each are. G-dliness in and of Itself is both simple and complex. Within His Onesness is the potential for an infinite variety of expressions--each one of us. The idea of the census calls upon each one of us to recognize our unique personality traits and talents--what we each bring to the table, so to speak--and at the same time, to let go of our ego enough to recognize that this is all from HaShem. Our Divine Mission relies upon each of us to be ready and willing to stand up and be counted while simultaneously being sensitive to and grateful for the beautiful fact that each one of us counts! 

I wish my family and friends a blessed week and a good yom tov! This Shavuos and every day may we all renew our faith and trust in Torah, yiddishkeit and the many gifts bestowed upon us--whether they are revealed or yet to be revealed.