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Bemidbar 5780: No Direction Home
(א) וַיְדַבֵּ֨ר יְהוָ֧ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֛ה בְּמִדְבַּ֥ר סִינַ֖י בְּאֹ֣הֶל מוֹעֵ֑ד בְּאֶחָד֩ לַחֹ֨דֶשׁ הַשֵּׁנִ֜י בַּשָּׁנָ֣ה הַשֵּׁנִ֗ית לְצֵאתָ֛ם מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם לֵאמֹֽר׃

(1) On the first day of the second month, in the second year following the exodus from the land of Egypt, the Holy One spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting. . .

(ז) וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֶל משֶׁה בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי (במדבר א, א), לָמָּה בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי, מִכָּאן שָׁנוּ חֲכָמִים בִּשְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים נִתְּנָה הַתּוֹרָה, בָּאֵשׁ, וּבַמַּיִם, וּבַמִּדְבָּר. בָּאֵשׁ מִנַּיִן (שמות יט, יח): וְהַר סִינַי עָשַׁן כֻּלּוֹ וגו'. וּבַמַּיִם מִנַּיִן, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (שופטים ה, ד): גַּם שָׁמַיִם נָטָפוּ גַּם עָבִים נָטְפוּ מָיִם. וּבַמִּדְבָּר מִנַּיִן וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֶל משֶׁה בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי, וְלָמָּה נִתְּנָה בִּשְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים הַלָּלוּ, אֶלָּא מָה אֵלּוּ חִנָּם לְכָל בָּאֵי הָעוֹלָם כָּךְ דִּבְרֵי תוֹרָה חִנָּם הֵם, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (ישעיה נה, א): הוֹי כָּל צָמֵא לְכוּ לַמַּיִם, דָּבָר אַחֵר, וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֶל משֶׁה בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי, אֶלָּא כָּל מִי שֶׁאֵינוֹ עוֹשֶׂה עַצְמוֹ כַּמִּדְבָּר, הֶפְקֵר, אֵינוֹ יָכוֹל לִקְנוֹת אֶת הַחָכְמָה וְהַתּוֹרָה, לְכָךְ נֶאֱמַר: בְּמִדְבַּר סִינָי.

And God spoke to Moses in the Sinai Wilderness (Numbers 1:1). Why the Sinai Wilderness? From here the sages taught that the Torah was given through three things: fire, water, and wilderness. How do we know it was given through fire? From Exodus 19:18: "And Mount Sinai was all in smoke as God had come down upon it in fire." How do we know it was given through water? As it says in Judges 5:4, "The heavens dripped and the clouds dripped water [at Sinai]." How do we know it was given through wilderness? [As it says above,] "And God spoke to Moses in the Sinai Wilderness."

אָמַר רַבִּי אַבָּהוּ בְּשֵׁם רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן, כְּשֶׁנָּתַן הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אֶת הַתּוֹרָה, צִפּוֹר לֹא צָוַח, עוֹף לֹא פָּרַח, שׁוֹר לֹא גָּעָה, אוֹפַנִּים לֹא עָפוּ, שְׂרָפִים לֹא אָמְרוּ קָדוֹשׁ קָדוֹשׁ, הַיָּם לֹא נִזְדַּעֲזָע, הַבְּרִיּוֹת לֹא דִּבְּרוּ, אֶלָּא הָעוֹלָם שׁוֹתֵק וּמַחֲרִישׁ, וְיָצָא הַקּוֹל: אָנֹכִי ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ,

Said Rabbi Abahu....in the name of Rabbi Yochanan...When the Holy Blessed One gave the Torah, no bird chirped, no fowl fluttered, no ox lowed, the angels did not fly, the Seraphim did not utter the Kedusha, the sea did not roar, the creatures did not speak; the universe was silent and mute. And the voice came forth: I am Adonai your God).

Lawrence Kushner: The wilderness is not just a desert through which we wandered for forty years. It is a way of being. A place that demands being open to the flow of life around you. A place that demands being honest with yourself without regard to the cost in personal anxiety. A place that demands being present with all of yourself.
In the wilderness your possessions cannot surround you. Your preconceptions cannot protect you. Your logic cannot promise you the future. Your guilt can no longer place you safely in the past. You are left alone each day with an immediacy that astonishes, chastens and exults. You see the world as if for the first time.
אָמַר רַב הוּנָא: הָיָה מְהַלֵּךְ בַּדֶּרֶךְ אוֹ בַּמִּדְבָּר וְאֵינוֹ יוֹדֵעַ אֵימָתַי שַׁבָּת, מוֹנֶה שִׁשָּׁה יָמִים וּמְשַׁמֵּר יוֹם אֶחָד. חִיָּיא בַּר רַב אוֹמֵר: מְשַׁמֵּר יוֹם אֶחָד, וּמוֹנֶה שִׁשָּׁה. בְּמַאי קָמִיפַּלְגִי — מָר סָבַר כִּבְרִיָּיתוֹ שֶׁל עוֹלָם, וּמָר סָבַר כְּאָדָם הָרִאשׁוֹן. מֵיתִיבִי: הָיָה מְהַלֵּךְ בַּדֶּרֶךְ וְאֵינוֹ יוֹדֵעַ אֵימָתַי שַׁבָּת מְשַׁמֵּר יוֹם אֶחָד לְשִׁשָּׁה. מַאי לָאו, מוֹנֶה שִׁשָּׁה וּמְשַׁמֵּר יוֹם אֶחָד?! לָא, מְשַׁמֵּר יוֹם אֶחָד וּמוֹנֶה שִׁשָּׁה.

Rav Huna said: One who was walking along the way or in the desert, and he does not know when Shabbat occurs, he counts six days from the day that he realized that he lost track of Shabbat and then observes one day as Shabbat.

Eitan Fishbane: R. Bahya asks: Why does the Torah emphasize God’s speech to Moshe in the wilderness of Sinai (בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי)? It was to teach that “a person does not attain the Torah until they have made themselves empty and abandoned like the wilderness” To receive the revelation of Torah—or perhaps a bit less grandly, to let Torah take root in one’s heart—a person must first make themselves into a midbar, an inner empty wilderness that is cleared of all the weeds and brush that obstruct true perception and feeling.
In this transformed reading, the midbar may be said to embody a pure state of emptiness—an inner cleansing that allows us to go deeper into the spiritual path. Becoming hefker kemidbar is a process of letting go of our imprisonment in materiality, in ephemeral and finite desires—to be liberated into the vastness of an inner wilderness. As R. Nahman of Bratzlav taught (Likutei Moharan I:52), the most profound opening of the heart to God takes place in the physical space of darkness and wilderness, the frightening ground of loneliness and alienation. It is in hitbodedut (solitude) that we are able to empty our minds and hearts of society’s overwhelming drumbeat, where the ultimate bitul hayeish (erasure of superficial, mundane consciousness) becomes possible, and we are truly opened in all of our vulnerability before Divinity. In that place of midbar, we are able to break open the heart in ways we didn’t know were possible, to cry out to God from a place of the deepest emotional honesty. The midbar is an inner place of psyche as much as it is a terrestrial location. It is our spiritual work to let that divine solitude refine the openness and gentleness with which we treat our fellow human beings.
Bob Dylan: When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose. . . How does it feel. . . to be on your own, with no direction home, a complete unknown, like a rolling stone?
Henry David Thoreau: In wildness is the preservation of the world.
T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets, "East Coker":
In order to arrive at what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
Bamidbar Wilderness Therapy website: In Hebrew, BaMidbar means “in the wilderness,” or “in the desert.” There is a Jewish text (Zohar Va’era, 2:25b) that tells us when we were in Egypt, we lost the ability to express our own stories. During that time, we were literally slaves to another person’s narrative. When we left Egypt, we spent forty years in the midbar – the wilderness. It was there that we began our national story telling and created our own identity. The midbar is a wilderness, but there is also a second meaning — to speak — דבר. We went into the midbar to find our own voice and to write a new narrative as a people.
Bob Marshall: Anyone who has stood upon a lofty summit and gazed over an inchoate tangle of deep canyons and cragged mountains, of sunlit lakelets and black expanses of forest, has become aware of a certain giddy sensation that there are no distances, no measures, simply unrelated matter rising and falling without any analogy to the banal geometry of breadth, thickness, and height.
Elie Wiesel: When the Holy Seer of Lublin was a little boy, he was known to skip school for hours or even days. Once, his teacher followed the young boy to see what became of these free moments. The Seer walked to the edge of the town, then deep into the woods, and there, in a small green circle of trees, he began to pray. The next day the teacher asked the boy what drew him to those woods. The Seer of Lublin replied, I can find God there.
"But," said the teacher, "surely God is the same in the town as in the wilderness."
That is true, replied the Seer, but I am not the same.