Parshat Behaalotcha begins with a sense of hope, purpose, and spiritual momentum. Am Israel is still in the desert, yet special commandments only to be celebrated in Israel, like Pesach Sheini, are already being introduced in this parsha. The Mishkan has been dedicated; the camp is arranged in military and spiritual formation. Moshe invites his father-in-law to join the journey—physical and spiritual—toward Eretz Yisrael.
This readiness is not just logistical; it is deeply aspirational. The Jewish people are poised for a moment of destiny. The trumpets will soon sound, the divine cloud will lift, and the nation will begin its march toward redemption.
And then—suddenly—the narrative fractures, becoming much more complex and hinting at the challenges that lie ahead on this journey to redemption.
In two short, cryptic verses, Bemidbar 10:35–36, bracketed by inverted or backward versions of the Hebrew letter nun, lies a turning point. These verses begin with “Vayehi bin’soa ha’aron,” describing the Ark of the Covenant miraculously leading the people. These lines capture the people’s drive toward spiritual elevation and their sense of divine purpose. Highlighting these verses’ unique importance, our rabbis (Mishnah Yadayim 3:5; Bavli Shabbat 115a) teach that these verses are not just poetic interruptions—they constitute a separate book of the Torah in their own right. According to this count, the Torah consists of seven books, not five.
Why elevate such a brief passage into its own Biblical book?
Rav Soloveitchik offers a profound insight. He suggests that these verses, brief as they are, symbolize the ideal: the people aligned with God’s vision, the Ark going forth before the people unimpeded, God’s enemies scattered. It is a picture of religious triumph, clarity of mission, and spiritual direction. But the ideal is short-lived. Immediately following these verses, the narrative unravels: the people complain; first generally, then about the manna, and finally about Moshe himself. The dream collapses into anxiety, fear, and rebellion.
This tension—between the ideal and the real, between spiritual aspiration and human frailty—is one that speaks deeply to our condition. The Torah is not merely a story of divine perfection; it is the story of human beings striving toward God, and often falling short. Between the ideal and the real, between spiritual vision and human weakness, lies the messiness of life.
The Haftarah from Zechariah mirrors this theme. Here, too, we encounter the challenge of renewal after failure. The prophet calls on the people to return from exile, to rebuild not only the Temple but their spiritual identity. The image of Yehoshua the Kohen Gadol standing before an angel, being instructed to remove his filthy garments—symbolic of sin—and to don pure vestments, offers a powerful image of spiritual rehabilitation. God does not reject Yehoshua for his failure; rather He purifies him and reaffirms his mission.
So, too, in Behaalotcha, the sinfulness that follows the text inside the backwards nuns does not mean that the journey has failed . It means the journey is more complicated than we imagined. Spiritual growth is not linear. The inverted ‘nun’s may hint at a detour, a digression from the straight path forward. Yet, Chazal’s decision to set those verses apart as their own “book” reminds us that the ideal still matters. Even in the messiness of growth we must cling to the vision. Behaalotcha – when you rise up – is not the promise of a smooth ascent but an invitation to perseverance. The Ark still goes before us. God is still in our midst. The mission still calls.
May we have the strength to live within this tension, to strive toward the ideal, and to renew ourselves—individually and communally—after every stumble, just as our ancestors did on their long journey toward redemption.