Numbers 11 Torah portion Behaalotcha may well be summed up by paraphrasing a popular adage: You can take the nation out of
Egypt, but you can’t take Egypt out of the nation.
“And the people were as murmurers, speaking evil in the ears of God.
And when God heard it, His anger was kindled. And the fire of God burnt
among them, and devoured in the uttermost part of the camp.”
Readers, reminds Abravanel, need to bear in mind that ancient Egypt was a hotbed of paganism. Besides
Egypt’s utter lack of religiosity, the locals’ interpersonal relations hit noxiously low levels. Tragically,
Abravanel teaches, the Hebrews had imbibed these shortcomings, bringing them out of Egypt. Verily, a
snapshot of the Chosen People brought in Numbers 11 would be less than flattering. In time, Moses
would succeed in reeducating his brethren, turning them into a meritorious nation.
For our purposes here, let us share Abravanel’s explanation of the people’s sins, per our verse. “And the
people were as murmurers, speaking evil in the ears of God.” Precisely what wrongdoing is being
conveyed? Why did the people’s murmurings provoke the Creator’s fury, His fire?
As prefaced above, transforming the Hebrews took time and toil on the prophet’s part. Even though
they had stood at Sinai hearing God’s words, and even though they had remained there for a year
learning divine commandments, still they exhibited backsliding, recidivistic folly. Egypt’s stain would
prove a stubborn one.
For Abravanel, the sin relates to the Hebrew’s skewed attitudes toward God. Moreover, the nation as a
whole found it hard to part with evil. Essentially, it boiled down to one step forward, two back.
A stiff-necked people refused to take heart and mend broken ways. In the Creator’s eyes, it was hideous,
unconscionable. Although they left Sinai accompanied by the Holy Ark in their midst, with a divine cloud
hovering above, notwithstanding – “the people were as murmurers, speaking evil in the ears of God.”
According to Abravanel, the Jews harbored gross misconceptions about the Creator and His engagement
in the world. Here is a textual clue: “Speaking evil in the ears of God.” While the Hebrews professed
belief in the Maker, they failed to believe He heard man.
God is a remote Being, they presumed.
He doesn’t get involved in man’s petty world, they contended.
For these theologically-misguided Hebrews, it was futile to speak to the exalted One Above, they dared
say, for He didn’t “have ears” for mere mortals.
How wrongheaded were those Jews in the first years out of Egypt! “And when God heard it, His anger
was kindled.” The Creator would not abide the lies. Shortly, short-minded Hebrews would feel the heat,
as divine punishment would serve to realign an expendable generation and extract their descendants
from ancient Egypt’s mire. “And the fire of God burnt among them, and devoured in the uttermost part
of the camp.”
The infamous and insidious insurgence led by Korah & Co. against Moses is the subject matter of
Numbers 16. But who were the ringleaders, Abravanel asks? What brought these noisome plaintiffs to
collude against the prophet? What rankled them?
“Now Korah, the son of Izhar, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi, with
Dathan and Abiram, the sons of Eliab, and On, the son of Peleth, sons of
Reuben, took men. And they rose up in face of Moses, with certain
Children of Israel – two hundred and fifty men. They were princes of the
congregation, the elect men of the assembly, men of renown.”
Korah made a play for the office of the high priest. Here was the pretender’s thinking. Kohath, son of
Levi, had four sons. They were: Amram, Izhar, Hebron, and Uzziel. Moses, a son of Amram (the eldest
son of Kohath) assumed the role as king of the Hebrews. Korah calculated that Kohath’s second son,
Izhar, should have gotten the nod to become high priest. Korah was Izhar’s oldest, thus the agitator felt
the high priesthood should have gone to him. “Now Korah…took men.”
Dathan and Abiram feigned to be the champion of all Hebrew firstborns. Firstborn’s
prominence within the societal hierarchy should have gained them, they argued, esteem and position.
Practically, they sought official status in the Tabernacle. Yet, they were yanked from office, replaced by
Levites. Humiliation was unbearable, a stinging – public – slap in the face. For but a short time in the
desert, firstborns had served in the Tabernacle and offered sacrifices as Hebrew grandees. Moses placed
fellow Levites in that high position. “And they rose up in face of Moses…”
The tribe of Reuben, too, acted perfidiously. They advanced that as Jacob’s firstborn, that tribe
should have landed or bagged a national station of authority. Instead, they griped, Moses usurped what
rightfully belonged to them and gave it to Judah. Consequently, Judah’s tribe led the encampment in the
vanguard. Rulership went to them. In time, when the Holy Land would be divvied up among the twelve
tribes, Judah received territory first. Firstborn status also went to the tribe of Joseph. To peg a verse to
Reuben’s rowdies’ claim we have: “And they assembled together against Moses and against Aaron…”
Admittedly, the super-charged Korah & Co. narrative in Numbers 16 is chock-full of intrigue, resulting in
Moses’ call for explicit divine intervention, miracle. The Creator complied; He bid the earth to swallow
up the firebrands.
We bring only Abravanel’s initial comments. For the full discussion, see Abravanel’s World.
Arguably, Numbers 19 opens a discussion of the most elusive of all divine commandments: the red
heifer.
“And God spoke to Moses and Aaron saying. This is the governing law
which God has commanded saying. Speak unto the Children of Israel
that they should take for you a red heifer, faultless, where there is no
blemish, and upon which never came yoke.”
Questions regarding it abound, as Abravanel and other commentators have inquired:
In the wider scheme, any discussion concerning spiritual cleanliness and defilement boggles the mind.
Here, we read how the red heifer’s ashes cleanse the spiritually defiled among the Jews. Do the
mechanics of the purifying process not beggar the imagination?
For Abravanel, in a sense, the red heifer represents divine Torah. Specifically, the governing law of the
red heifer shares elements with the Torah. How so?
Consider a sampling of the similarities:
Just as the red heifer is faultless, so too is God’s Torah.
Just as a man enjoys the fruits of Torah in this world and the next one, the red heifer rite curries
boundless benefit for the Hebrews: it brings them catharsis and spiritual renewal from defilement.
Just as a man who fully immerses himself in Torah merits much reward, including a divine wink and
promise that the yoke of livelihood will be lifted from him, allowing him to dedicate his time solely to
Torah studies, so too will the red heifer’s life be one “upon which never came yoke.”
To be sure, Abravanel’s essay on the red heifer brings additional illustrations, and dives deeper. For our
purposes here, however, we offer a smattering of the points in his argument showing the likeness of the
Torah and red heifer.
Chapter 20, among other things, pertains to the fateful event that dashed Moses’ and Aaron’s yearning
to enter Canaan – “And God said unto Moses and Aaron. Because you believed not in Me, to sanctify Me
in the eyes of the Children of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land which I have
given them.”
“And God spoke to Moses saying. Take the rod, and assemble the
congregation, you and Aaron your brother, and speak you unto the rock
before their eyes, that it give forth its water…And Moses took the rod
from before God…And Moses lifted his hand, and smote the rock with
his rod twice…”
Abravanel delves into the question: Were the deeds of Moses and Aaron in Meribah so outrageous that
it necessitated such harsh consequence? In a lengthy essay that spans and critiques many divergent
approaches, Abravanel answers: NO. Below is Abravanel’s opinion, albeit in shorthand.
Moses and Aaron faced punishment for their earlier, respective wrongdoings. Aaron’s misstep occurred
in his collusion over the Golden Calf affair. Moses’ misjudgment transpired in his handling of the spy
debacle.
To be clear, Aaron never did pay homage to the Golden Calf. And Moses should not be unfairly clumped
together with the likes of the expendable generation who perished in the desert. To argue contrary is a
fundamental travesty and misreading of their respective gaffes.
Notwithstanding, Aaron had participated with those interested to propagate pagan practices. We do
grant, though, that he tried to stall the nation until Moses returned to the camp. In any event, his
indirect involvement cannot be ignored. Moreover, Heaven took the calf sinners to task for their sin.
Some died in a plague, some by sword. Common to all, they fell in the desert and had not merited to
step foot in Canaan. Since Aaron played a role, Divine judgment recognized that role and decreed he
share his co-religionists’ fate. His would be a desert grave too. But because he did not prostrate to the
metal bovine and because he cannot be placed together with them, his punishment was not identical to
theirs. God bided His time, per se. Aaron’s fate is hitched to his brother Moses. Punishment would
come to the high priest, but only when Heaven deemed it the right time – the waters of Meribah.
Moses’ mistake came when the Hebrews clamored for spies to snoop around the land. On his own
initiative, Moses suggested they ascertain, “whether they were strong or weak, few or many…”
Undoubtedly, Moses’ intentions in gathering information were well meant. In his mind, when the
Hebrews heard about tough locals and walled cities, they would further appreciate the miracles God
waited to unload on the enemy. But they didn’t. The Jews merely melted at the prospect of war.
If Moses and Aaron had not sinned at the waters of Meribah, why is the venue forever associated with
the harsh decree of not entering Canaan? The rock-sprouting water at Meribah, let us say, served as a
cover-up for their respective sins. Owing to the brothers’ prominence, this cover-up had been ordered
from Above.
Dealing with delicate matters of this sort may be commonplace. On occasion, a doting father will find
ways to sweep aside or whitewash a beloved son’s misdeeds. Thus, for example, if a boy uses bad
judgement against his father, dad looks the other way. But then, at the appropriate moment (read: at
the time of an unrelated minor affront), dad will take the son to task for having crossed him. He might
even take a strap to him, a punishment greater in scope than the minor offense warrants. Should
onlookers ask the father why he walloped his son for the misdemeanor, he will tersely reply, “It was
punishment for another matter.”
Moses’ and Aaron’s cases need to be seen from that prism. Punishment for the waters of Meribah
event had precious little to do with the rock. As stated, consequence had been simmering for quite a
few years. Out of respect and affection for them, God brought events to a head at present. Unknowing
witnesses will be dismayed at the seeming lack of balance of Heaven’s scales of justice. Insiders know
better. Moses and Aaron were receiving their just deserts for prior, minor sins.
One of the topics covered in Chapter 21 deals with Moses and the bronze serpent. The narrative raises
more than a few eyebrows. What are readers to make of this bizarre passage?
“And the people spoke against God and against Moses. Wherefore have
you brought us out of Egypt to die in the wilderness, for there is no bread
and there is no water…”
Some background: “And the people spoke against God and against Moses.” Let us put this latest
national tantrum into perspective. This had not been an outburst due to a water shortage. Neither had
they waged complaint about not having food to eat. Targeted here were God and Moses. The nation’s
scornful words lacked cause and exposed an ugly streak, one that belched from a very deep place within
them.
The people grew to despise heaven-sent manna. “And our soul loathes this light bread.” Just because
they detested manna—truly an awesome repast—the Hebrews lashed out. As for their sin, it falls into
the category of slander. Jewish tradition attests to and likens this type of sin, so sinister, to the bite of a
snake. A slimy, slithering snake bites for no other reason other than to hurt its victims; it cannot possibly
eat them.
How apt, then, that the desert unleashed vicious vipers that attacked the slanderous nation, injecting
within them deadly venom. “And God trained snakes upon the people. And they bit the people; and
much people of Israel died.”
Realizing their sin, the nation expressed contrition. “And the people came to Moses and they said: We
have sinned, for we have spoken out against God and you. Pray to God.”Moses’ supplication succeeded,
and the snakes wiggled away. The bad news was that many Hebrews suffered from the poison still
circulating in their blood. Heaven sought to heal these lingering after-effects. “And God said to Moses:
Make a [figure of a] serpent and hoist it upon a flagpole. And it shall be that anyone who looks [up] to it
will live.”
One classic Bible commentator correctly advanced that had a Heaven-sent remedy not arrived, the
people would have continued to writhe in pain from snake bites. Logically speaking, any man who has
been mauled by wild animals does not cast a glance upward—at an image of said savage beast—and
derive relief from his lacerations and blood poisoning. What, then, is the Torah teaching us with this
outlandish narrative?
God delivered a lesson in faith. Man’s ills and recovery, ultimately, are attributable to the Maker. That is,
rehabilitation or restored health needs to be seen from a prism of supernatural—not natural—causes.
Moses hoisted a banner upon a high pole. This provided a centralized focus anyone could see, regardless
of where he stood. Taking stock, we note that a living snake inflicted damage; an image of a lifeless one
waving in the wind brought relief.
“Hoist it upon a flagpole.”The Hebrew word here for flagpole allows for a double entendre. Thus,
besides “flagpole”, it also means “miracle.” The nuanced word’s two meanings give pause, encouraging
Jews to probe the real underlying reasons behind disease and healing. This, in sum, is the message
behind Moses and the bronze serpent.
Until now, the Torah related adventures that befell the Hebrews as they trekked along desert highways,
dramatic thrillers that occupied the encampment before they reached civilization. If we were to chart a
geographic reference line, we would have the start point as the great wilderness and the end point
corresponding to where Moses passes away. But now in chapter 22, the Torah’s emphasis changes,
focusing on those sensational events that occurred in proximity to the spot where the prophet dies. This
leg of the journey features Balak and Balaam.
“And Balak the son of Zippor saw all that Israel did to the Amorites.”
What do these final narratives impart? Abravanel delves deeply into this chapter, but let us concentrate
and better understand King Balak’s of Moab predicament. Put differently, why did Balak turn to Balaam
at this juncture? What led the monarch to turn to the occult, to soothsayers, and other crystal ball
professionals, trades that Balaam practiced with a high degree of proficiency? To be sure, we must also
acknowledge that Balak slunk away from conventional war and martial arts, traditional practices of
chivalrous men bearing arms.
The reason behind the king’s choice is manifest. “And Moab greatly feared the nation.” His army shook
in its boots, sagging esprit de corps on life support. In an extreme defeatist environment, what is a king
commanding sniveling troops meant to do?
“And Balak the son of Zippor saw.” The king saw much. He was apprised of things that we shall now
discuss. He heard about the Hebrews mauling the Amorites. That is, they manhandled Sihon and Og,
both generals of superior might when compared to Moab. Indeed, the Hebrews’ victories had been
convincing and decisive. When the dust settled, the Amorites had lost broad swaths of their territory.
The Moabite king also saw and gauged the fighting men under his command. And it was a sorry sight.
Uncontrollably, they convulsed in the face of the Jews. Palpable fright. Part of their despair stemmed
from the sheer size of the Jewish army. “For they are many.” Another part had to do with the reputation
the Jews had earned; they utterly brutalized all adversaries. “And Moab despaired on account of the
Children of Israel.” The Hebrews were respected as a deeply pious people, descendants of a Heaven-
blessed lineage.
We can get a glimpse of just how hard-pressed Moab was when we see to what extent they begged
Midian for assistance. “And Moab said to the elders of Midian, now the congregation is poised to
completely wipe out our region as a bull consumes a vegetable patch.” In so many words, Moab’s king
told Midian that without regional cooperation, they were all doomed. In military jargon, the strategy
currently employed by the Jews can be neatly summed up as divide and conquer. “As a bull consumes a
vegetable patch.”Moab stressed in no uncertain terms that in any one-on-one fight, the Hebrews would
easily trounce the local powers.
In the king of Moab’s eyes, this too he had perceived with perfect perspicacity. He well comprehended
the Jews’ might. The Amorite campaigns taught as much. Balak’s army’s (lack of) readiness clarified
more for him. The monarch’s assessment: no single nation could slow let alone stop the Hebrews’
momentum. Cooperation between Moab and Midian became an expedient, the last hope.
Herein was Balak’s predicament. In a word, his army was outclassed. As such Balak clutched at straws.
Balaam, the master magician, was Moab’s only hope. Hence Balak called on Balaam. Perhaps the
sorcerer’s bag of tricks would turn the tide and hand the Jews their first defeat.
As stated in the prior chapter, King Balak of Moab turned to Balaam to help defeat and destroy the
Hebrews. Here in chapter 23, we will take a closer look at Balaam’s prophecies. To be specific, God
granted Balaam four prophecies regarding the Jewish people, as Abravanel develops in his commentary.
Here we will examine the first of the four divine messages.
“And God met Balaam and he said unto Him: I have prepared the seven
altars, and I have offered up a bullock and a ram on every altar. And God
put a word in Balaam’s mouth, and said: Return unto Balak, and thus
you shall speak.”
In his pilot prophecy, Balaam informed Balak that the Jews comprised God’s portion and His legacy. This
guardianship dated back to the time of their patriarchs. One outgrowth of said intimacy explains how
they grew so fantastically populous. Moreover, the nation heads for divine salvation in the next world
with its boundless spiritual delights.
“And took up his parable and said: From Aram, Balak brings me, the king of Moab from the mountains of
the East. Come, curse [for] me Jacob and come, execrate Israel.” Balaam’s position overlooking the
Jewish encampment had been chosen by King Balak. As for the king’s request of Balaam, it was explicit –
to curse the Hebrews.
The locale appeared to offer an excellent vista for Balaam to jinx the Jews. Yet, Balaam balked. “How can
I curse” using my mouth and my tongue, since “fate has not cursed.” Balaam lectured Balak. “If God
harbors no anger” toward the Jews, then “why should I?”
Balaam had more “bad news” for his royal patron. That is, the Almighty eternally showers His people
with love. Here is proof. “For I see them from the tops of the clefts.” Balaam’s mind’s eye gazed upon
the illustrious patriarchs: Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. They are likened to majestic mountain heights.
“Look toward the cleft from which you were hewn.”
“And from hilltops I see them.” These are the matriarchs—Sarah and Rebeccah and Rahel and Leah. The
desert-trekking Hebrews hail from exemplary patriarchal and matriarchal stock. Father to son, mother to
daughter—theirs is a direct bloodline. Claims reporting that Gentiles entered into the lineage cannot be
sanctioned. Patently false.
For Hebrews, theirs is an ultra-insulated community. “Behold, they are a people who dwell apart, and
among the Gentiles they are not counted.” Assimilation is unknown to them. Unlike other peoples, they
do not seek a big tent and common banner with those of different family backgrounds.
Winding up his opening message, Balaam made it clear that the Hebrews’ line runs pure, without a trace
of outside influence. Lest someone think that a tight-knit group such as this one probably numbers few,
well, that notion was quickly dispelled. “Who can count the dust, O Jacob?” Compared to the dust of the
earth, “or numbered the stock of Israel.”
From Balak’s and Balaam’s vantage, they managed to see a mere fraction of the nation and beheld a
single tribal formation or one-fourth of the encampment.
Turning to their spiritual legacy, Balaam’s prophetic words broached the infinite reach of their souls,
souls that never extinguish even after death. We also find more than a touch of jealousy. “If only my
soul will die the death of the righteous,” and “if only my end will conclude as theirs.”
How apparent is God’s love for His people, Balaam tutored Balak. He voices the unimaginable when he
wonders how it is possible to harm such a coddled people. Herein is the resounding sentiment and
undisputed fact behind Balaam’s first prophecy.
As for the king’s reaction, he delighted not. “And Balak said to Balaam: What have you done to me? To
curse my enemy I have hired you. And behold, you doubly bless them.”While the king was certainly not
pleased with Balaam’s words, he was persistent. He requested Balaam move location and give it another
go. But that’s a subject for Balaam’s upcoming prophecies…
King Balak of Moab, if anything, was determined (obsessed) to decimate the Jews. To do the hit job, he
hired Balaam, a man whose prophetic powers were quite proficient. In the blog in chapter 23, we cited
Abravanel’s opinion that God graced Balaam with four prophecies. In Numbers 24 we address Balaam’s
third prophecy concerning the Hebrews.
“And Balaam lifted up his eyes, and he saw Israel dwelling tribe by tribe.
And the spirit of God came upon him.”
This message emanating from Heaven foreshadowed more about the Jewish nation. They would dwell in
their land and procreate prolifically. The Temple will be erected; they will institute a monarchy and
prevail over Agag, king of Amalek. Especially during the epochs of Kings David and Solomon, both
kingships would prosper and vault to heretofore unknown heights and power.
“How comely are your tents, O Jacob, your habitations, O Israel.” Different eras in Jewish history are
being depicted and praised. The first one, when the Jews trekked in the desert, sketches life in tents.
Still, those tents contributed to the comeliness of the camp and camp formation. Later, while in Israel,
their homes were part of lovely landscaped neighborhoods and cities.
The nation’s beauty and grace resembled stately waterways, “Like outstretched rivers, like pastures
along streams.”Instead of likening the people to this water-filled, verdant and pastoral imagery, they
may be describing the Hebrews’ tents in the desert, and later, regal Jewish estates in Canaan. If we
subscribe to this latter explanation, then we provide four additional details to the Hebrew’s dwellings.
Balaam’s unabashed paean continued. “They crouch as a lion, as a lioness; who will arouse them?”
Taking all the adulation of the Hebrews together, Balaam’s conclusion emerges. “Those who
bless you are blessed. And those who curse you are cursed.” The concluding phrase had
been a not-so-subtle hint to Balak that he resign himself to reality and desist from further
attempts to alter it. If the king did not want to see his kingdom go up in smoke, he’d better
walk away now. As for the prophet, he throws in his lot with the blessed ones, thereby
gaining for himself the same.
A cheerless Balak berated the distinguished messenger for having said, in so many words,
that he was accursed. At that insinuation, the king clapped his hands together and told
Balaam, “…to curse my enemy, I have engaged you. And behold you have blessed them
three times.” Balak reminded the prophet of having been summoned to him. Namely, he
hired him to curse and malign Israel, his enemy. Balaam further heard the distraught
monarch tell him that if he hadn’t intended to oblige him, then he should never have come.
An outrage had been perpetrated. Seemingly, he showed up only to bless them. Seething,
Balak accused Balaam of sabotage and sedition. Blame lay solely with the Midianite
prophet. Attributing this affront to God was flapdoodle, Balak charged.
“Now just scram. Go home.” Balaam’s shenanigans had cast a pall upon the Moabite princes
and the rank and file. Their despondency, the king revealed, might even lead them to kill
the impudent Balaam. Dallying around would not be a good idea. The king had more to say
as he escorted Balaam on his way, but the point is clear. Thus summarizes Balaam’s third
prophecy, according to Abravanel.
Before taking leave of King Balak of Moab, the prophet Balaam shared an open secret – really an axiom:
The Maker does not suffer sexual promiscuity. At all. Privy to this truism, and openly seeking the demise
of the Holy Nation, Balaam advised Balak to have Moabite women enter the Jewish camp. There, they
should seduce the Hebrews. “And Israel abode in Shittim, and the people began to commit harlotry with
the daughters of Moab.”
“And God spoke to Moses saying. Phinehas, son of Eleazar, son of
Aaron the priest, has turned My wrath away from the Children of Israel,
in that he was very jealous for My sake among them, so that I consumed
not the Children of Israel in My jealousy.”
Predictably, the consequences were immediate and disastrous – a galloping plague. “And those who
died from the plague were twenty-four thousand.” Had Phineas not stood in the breach, God may well
have decimated thousands more. Abravanel elaborates.
The Torah tells us that our protagonist, Phinehas, accomplished something totally out of his league.
Here we have a man who was the son of Eleazar and grandson of Aaron. Bereft of military skills (he
probably never wielded a dagger or spear in his life), yet he performed gallantly. In what way did he
shine? He “stayed My anger from the Children of Israel.”
As a result of the people whoring after Baal Peor, the Creator contemplated clobbering them en masse.
Smut had invaded and defiled the encampment in general, and the tribe of Simon in particular.
Purposefully, Phinehas entered Simon’s sex arena. Likely, he marched past a menagerie of trash talk and
trashier scenes.
Abravanel focuses on, among other things, Phinehas’ deed, and its aftermath. “And he went after the
man of Israel into the chamber, and thrust both of them through, the man of Israel, and the woman
through her belly. So, the plague was stayed from the Children of Israel.”
Clearly, our protagonist’s indignation had been ignited by religious fervor. In essence, he internalized the
zealousness that had caused the Almighty to burn with anger against His people. Ardency fueled his
fearlessness. With that, he emerged from the frenzied masses to kill one of the most highly regarded
chieftains in Israel. He feared neither a backlash from the commoners in their myriads nor tribal princes
in their noble stations. What happened next?
“And God spoke unto Moses, saying. Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron the priest, has
turned My wrath away from the Children of Israel…Wherefore say: Behold, I give unto him My covenant
of peace.”
How does it follow that Phinehas’ valor translated into God rewarding him with a covenant of peace?
For Abravanel, the covenant had a practical implication. That is, immediately after the gutsy
assassination (pun intended), reality set in for our hero. Many said that Phinehas lived under constant
threat. The tribe of Simon was liable to take revenge, not to mention the lurking danger posed by Zimri’s
immediate family.
Because of these very real concerns, some urged him to hire bodyguards to protect himself from
determined enemies. Besides those who worried about Phinehas’ personal safety, others had different
thoughts about him. They pointed out that as a consequence of killing the victims and coming into direct
physical contact with their corpses, he had contracted spiritual defilement. Such a state banned him
from working in the Tabernacle and officiating at the altar. Blood stained his hands.
Combatting both camps of detractors, let us call them, God called out to Moses. He was instructed to
publicly broadcast a divine communiqué. “God pinned upon Phinehas the covenant of peace.” This set
his mind at ease so far as his personal safety was concerned; no honor killing would be perpetrated
against him. Now that he was Heaven’s laureate, per se, who would dare lay a finger on him?
In brief, Abravanel conveys the magnitude of Phineas’ bravery, and the reward that Heaven showered
upon him.
Toward the end of a lengthy chapter 26, we find verses pertaining to the allotment of Canaan to the
twelve tribes. Biblical commentators struggled with the subject of how the land was apportioned to the
twelve tribes. Was the “pie” cut into twelve equal slices, regardless of the individual tribe’s population?
Such a proposition, so fundamentally off, would fly in the face of divine justice and fairness. Moreover, it
ignores our verse.
“And God spoke to Moses saying. Among them the land shall be divided
by inheritance, by their names. To the more you populous, apportion
more for their birthright and for the lesser [population], decrease their
birthright. Each one [gets] according to their numbers.”
Later in Numbers, those commentators face more challenges: “And you shall inherit the land
according to a lottery system by families. The more people the larger portion of land, the fewer
people a diminished portion.”Larger tribal populations are due a bigger slice of Canaan, smaller
populations a smaller slice. Evidently, the Holy Land was not “one size fits all.”
What happens if we attempt to say that divvying up Israel is only a function of population size?
Then, Abravanel points out, we face trouble when considering Jacob’s blessing to Joseph.
“Ephraim and Menasseh are like Ruben and Simon—they are mine.” The patriarch promised
Joseph a double portion of land. Yet, if all twelve tribes get the same land mass, it would result
in Joseph getting no more than his brothers, something Jacob did not desire.
Just one more point to make the issue crystal clear. We find: “This is the land that you shall
inherit according to a lottery system that God commands…”
Abravanel rethinks the subject and arrives at a plausible arrangement. When analyzing the
issue of land apportionment, two tests emerge. One, we must identify the precise region that
each tribe gets as an everlasting inheritance. Two, we need to take into account the quantity of
the land mass. What were its latitude and longitude or length and breadth? In a word, we are
speaking about quality and quantity of land mass.
Addressing the first point, Abravanel puts forth that the area and quality in question earmarked
for any of the tribes, had been determined by Above (read: divine lottery system). This
deflected potential claims of cronyism and the like. No tribe would be able to complain about
receiving perceived inferior property. Yet, to be sure, not all regions within Israel are identical.
Alluding to the comparatively disparate real estate values, the Talmud asserts that one dunam
of property in Judah held more worth than five in the Galilee.
Abravanel next tackles the quantity allotted to each tribe. That is, within their respective
geographic markers, how much did each tribe’s land measure? Tellingly, the lottery system did
not insert itself here and curtailed its jurisdiction, per se. Instead, Joshua and Eleazar the priest
would later be entrusted with it. They worked collaboratively with each tribal chief. Of course,
these leaders drew up criteria. Key considerations included a tribe’s population. The greater the
population, the more land they received.
In shorthand, we have showed how Abravanel tackles the delicate matter of the allotment of
territories to the twelve tribes.
In chapter 26, the national census had concluded. The purpose of the headcount had a practical
purpose: “To these the land shall be divided.” It also inspired potential claimants to Canaan to speak up.
“Then drew near the daughters of Zelophehad, the son of Hepher, the
son of Gilead, the son of Machir, the son Manasseh, of the families of
Manasseh the son of Joseph. And these are the names of his daughters:
Mahlah, Noah, and Hoglah, and Milcah, and Tirzah.”
Here in chapter 27, we get a glimpse of more than just how the Hebrew court system worked in the
desert; we focus on one family’s fight for justice.
The pronouncement of an imminent entrance into Canaan, and division of it among the twelve tribes
stirred Zelophehad’s daughters. They descended from Manasseh and sought to redress an oversight, if
not a wrong: Despite their father not giving birth to sons, they felt entitled to their fair share in the Holy
Land. Abravanel lays out the due process, as well as the women’s claim and court win.
“And they stood before Moses and before Eleazar the priest and before…the entire congregation.” The
petitioners followed protocol. They first appealed to Moses, arguing their claim. Our master, we appear
before you as disputants in a lawsuit. Moses retorted. Behold, I have established a court system. It
comprises magistrates authorized to oversee thousands of constables, smaller courts responsible to
hundreds, and yet smaller courts in charge of fifty or ten. Plead your case before them. The appellants
listened as Moses explained that the point of law they seek can be clarified by lower courts.
The women approached Eleazar the priest, for Aaron was no longer alive. The priest responded as had
Moses. And so, they took their complaint to the tribal princes and community notables. Again, the ladies
poured out their hearts. The chieftains and notables admitted that this matter rated complex. As such
they lacked jurisdiction to adjudicate, suggesting they go to Moses. This is in keeping with a key verse,
“Any difficult matter, they shall bring to Moses.”
The women knew a runaround when they saw one. They also knew that they were not making any
progress, seeing that each legal authority refused to listen to their appeal. They came up with a plan.
They bided their time until all of the judges gathered together. In the presence of Moses, Eleazar, the
tribal chiefs, and communal leaders—men who were in courtyard of the Tent of Meeting—the women
motioned. “And they stood before Moses and before Eleazar the priest and before…the entire
congregation.” They reiterated their original claim. Who among them had the necessary authority to
decide the matter, they asked.
Here was the point of law the women sought to flesh out. “Our father died in the desert.” They
explained that their father had left Egypt and found his end in the wilderness. This established legal
standing, meaning that as someone who fled Egypt, father was entitled to an inheritance in Canaan.
The daughters continued. “And he was not part of those who griped against the Maker in the midst of
Korah’s cohorts.”Zelophehad was no conspirator, they asserted.
“Why should our father’s name be reduced among his family?” They questioned why their father’s clan,
that of Hepher, be deprived on the grounds that no boys were born to dad? Turning to Moses, they
begged. “Give us a portion among our father’s brothers.”
They alluded to the prophet’s God-given prerogative to parcel land, “To the many you shall parcel out
more.”This, they cried, was a just cause. “Give us a portion among our father’s brothers.” They had not
attempted to negotiate a particular size of land, not large nor small. They simply appealed to Moses’
sense of right. Whatever Hepher’s brothers receive, so too should they through their late father.
Moses had been noticeably moved as he beheld the orphans standing before him. He promised to take
up the matter, posthaste, with the One Above. “And Moses brought their case before the Almighty.”
The verse teaches that the prophet went all-in to advocate for them, trying to prove that their claim was
a valid one.
God heard. “And God spoke to Moses saying. Correctly have Zelophehad’s daughters argued.” In our
context it means that the Torah clarified a point of law regarding how the tribes took inheritance in
Canaan. Primarily, it was a function of divvying it up among families. “You shall certainly give them a
portion for an inheritance among their father’s brothers.”
A general principle of inheritance had been fleshed out: Where a father had not left sons, his daughters
inherit, as illustrated by the legal win for the daughters of Zelophehad.
Chapter 28 conveys laws concerning the daily sacrifices brought in the Temple; we speak of daily burnt
offerings. Abravanel questions the placement of these verses here. Better, he writes, had they been
taught elsewhere in the Torah, where the subject is broached (Exodus 28). Further, Abravanel wonders,
if our chapter delves into burnt offerings, why not make it inclusive of sin offerings and guilt offerings?
“And God spoke to Moses saying. Command the Children of Israel and
say unto them. My food which is presented unto Me for offerings made
by fire, of a sweet savor unto Me…This is the offering made by fire which
you shall bring unto God: day by day, for a continual burnt-offering…in
the morning, and the other you shall offer at dusk.”
Systematically, for Abravanel, context matters. In the end of the last chapter, we read about Moses’
imminent demise. “And God said to Moses. Ascend Mount Abarim, and behold the land which I give to
the Children of Israel. And when you have seen it, you also shall be gathered unto your people…” What
does the death of Moses have to do with daily sacrifices brought in the Temple?
Because God foreshadowed Moses’ imminent demise, He saw fit to bring His forceful providence to bear
at this transitional juncture. At root, the Maker foresaw how the prophet’s death would plunge the
nation into dark places. Hence, providence sought an antidote.
Learning about sacrifices was the first line of defense to prop up a despondent people, sorely missing
their beloved leader. When Moses was alive, by dint of his constant, prophetic readiness, he could
restore faith in his co-religionists. After his death, though, that lifeline would be gone. Prophecy, in
general, would be considerably harder to come by.
That is when Moses learned of the commandment to offer sacrifices, twice daily, besides the additional
ones offered on special occasions. Here’s the thing. The power of sacrifices lays in its ability to stir within
man the prophetic impulse. To wit, the Torah’s early tzaddikim like Adam, Noah, and Abraham offered
sacrifices to their Maker Who appeared to them in hopes of meriting fresh divine communiqués. The
other patriarchs conducted themselves in the same manner. It may be that Balaam had it in mind when
he bid Balak to “Build for me seven altars…”
Specifically, something about daily burnt offerings invigorated prophetic juices, a most potent prophecy-
enhancing tonic. Actually, all burnt offerings possessed those same super-charged stimulants. In Exodus
27, we find that God upon issuing the commandment to bring daily sacrifices proclaimed this. “Daily
burnt offerings for your generations at the Tent of Assembly’s courtyard before God where I convene
with you there, and I will convene there for the Children of Israel.”
For Moses, the Tent of Assembly was his go-to place, his sanctuary. Literally and figuratively. Daily, he
entered the hallowed compound. Wee morning hours especially found the prophet ensconced there.
Priests, upon showing up, would hear Moses urging them to take great care in the daily burnt offerings.
That meant paying close attention to offer them punctually at the appointed times. Moses would credit
that particular group of sacrifices with an uncanny potential to bring down God’s bounty from above to
the people.
In Moses’ absence, who would goad the priests, the Almighty worried, in a manner of speaking. For that
reason, He requested Moses to command the Children of Israel concerning sacrifices. “And God spoke to
Moses saying. Command the Children of Israel and say unto them. My food which is presented unto Me
for offering made by fire, of a sweet savor unto Me…” Since daily sacrifices were public property, the
Hebrews eagerly donated funds, earmarked to buy them. The prophet, for his part, made a point to
infuse the priests with a sense of promptitude. It was paramount, they heard, to sacrifice precisely at
the designated times.
For Abravanel, this is the import of our verses’ placement in our chapter. We better appreciate the
segue from earlier verses regarding Moses’ upcoming death, and their lead in to our verses pertaining to
daily, burnt sacrifices in the Temple.
The subject matter of chapter 29 turns to the major Jewish festivals. Abravanel takes a deep dive into
them. For our purposes here, we will focus on his treatment of the Feast of Booths, also known as the
Feast of Tabernacles. To qualify, this blog only comprises one aspect of Abravanel’s study of this feast, which is called Sukkot in Hebrew.
“And on the fifteenth day of the seventh month there is a holy
convocation for you. You shall not do any work activity. You shall
celebrate a festival to God for seven days.”
For starters, the feast of booths is also called the festival of harvest, referring to the agricultural period
corresponding to the in-gathering of a farmer’s produce. For Abravanel, allusion is made to man’s
finality and mortality, his “in-gathering” or demise. What are the passages of man’s life, he asks?
From birth until thirteen, man is a youth. Youth’s hallmark is underdeveloped reasoning, something
observed by the Jewish sages. To paraphrase them, a man’s evil inclination precedes his mature, better
judgement by thirteen years. Put differently, a man’s impetuosity has a significant head-start on his cool,
rational thinking—a considerable thirteen-year head-start. Hence, on the first day of the feast of
booths, thirteen bulls are offered in the Temple.
On day seven of the festival, seven bulls are sacrificed. Throughout the seven-day festival, seventy bulls
are offered. This refers to man’s life, spanning seven decades. Man expects to be productive and fruitful
for the duration of those years. In Hebrew, the terms “productive” or “fruitful” share its cognate with
the Hebrew word for bull.
Here is another chilling observation. Following bulls brought to the altar were two rams. This takes into
account man’s youthful years. At that juncture, he teems with physical and spiritual prowess—one ram
attesting to his brawn, the other to his idealistic bent. Sheep followed. Continuing with the allusion to
man’s passages, Abravanel puts forth that the rams and sheep hint at extra years sometimes allotted to
man. In rare cases, a man may reach ninety, and some hit one hundred. Seventy to one hundred pretty
much cover the vast majority of man’s outlier life expectancy.
Daily, fourteen sheep were sacrificed on the feast of tabernacles. They encompass this theme. How?
When we multiply fourteen by seven, we arrive at ninety-eight. Rounding off, we reach the outer limits
of one hundred spoken of earlier. Quality of life for men that old is seriously impaired. He is weak, sickly,
and pain-ridden. In short, he cannot put up much of a fight and succumbs to his fate.
Indeed, for Abravanel, the Feast of Tabernacles, with its existential message rings loudly of the
ephemeral; it shakes man up to contemplate death which awaits. Productive years can run seven
decades, reminiscent of the holiday’s seven days. Until seventy, man can do. He can accomplish. Again,
seventy fruitful years are represented by the seventy bulls. Mind and body are supple.
Vitality seeps out after seventy. From seventy until one hundred, down he slides. Vicissitudes knock and
knock and knock. At an advanced age, he cannot lift up his arms to fend the body blows, let alone charge
back. He is defeated. Stooped, hardly a shadow of a man remains. His prowess of yesteryear dims, an
ever-fading memory.
The animals offered on theFeast of Booths teach much about the human condition. Bulls, rams, and
sheep are metaphors for a man’s life, as discussed above. Interestingly, there are no other holiday
animal offerings, since anyone who lives past one hundred has all but forfeited his life. A bag of bare
bones, nothing meaningful hangs on.
We have shared one aspect of Abravanel’s insights, albeit a sobering one, into the Feast of Booths,
otherwise celebrated with boundless joy and blessing.
Chapter 30 pertains to Biblical oaths and vows. Abravanel questions the order or sequence: How does
the subject of festival sacrifices (chapters 28 and 29) lead to our chapter dealing with oaths and vows?
“And Moses spoke unto the heads of the tribes of the Children of Israel
saying. This is the thing which God has commanded. When a man vows
a vow to God or swears an oath to bind his sould with a bond, he shall
not break his word. He shall do according to all that proceeds out of his
mouth.”
Before jumping to the answer, Abravanel offers a generalization, actually an axiom: Every single Torah
commandment—starting from its generality down to its most minute detail—had been received by
Moses at Sinai. The prophet, however, did not necessarily publicize it when he heard it. Release
depended on the right time and place. Discretion is, after all, the prerogative of every great leader and
strategist.
Bear in mind, that concerning oaths and vows, there is generally an escape clause or window whereby
the person uttering them can walk it back. How did that play out during the desert years? Abravanel
learns that Moses personally attended to nullifying vows on behalf of his brethren. He refused to
delegate to other national or tribal leaders.
Practically, it meant that when any of his co-religionists swore an oath and then later regretted it, they
immediately marched up to him. And Moses, in light of his total mastery (unmatched by any of his
peers) of the intricate subject, obligingly nullified the fellow’s oath or pledge. Moreover, he would
painstakingly review the issues involved in any given case. When he finished his analysis, the party
became enlightened.
At this juncture and to provide perspective, Abravanel takes a step back and examines a verse from the
previous Torah portion. “And God said to Moses. Scale this Mount Abarim. And you shall see the land
that I have given to the Children of Israel. And you shall see it and be gathered to your people.” Recall,
that this commandment to Moses to scale the mountain preceded the one whereby God told him about
the Jewish festivals’ sacrifices. In effect, he taught the people about sacrificial commandments which
would only become operational after his death.
And that dark day doggedly drew near and nearer. Since his end was nigh, Moses saw fit at present to
teach the tribal chieftains the intricacies of nullifying oaths and vows. While he lived, as stated, Moses
working alone attended to his brethren and nullified their oaths.
“And Moses spoke unto the heads of the tribes…” The thing is clear. It does not mean that he instructed
this commandment to the chieftains first and only afterwards to the people, as others ascribe. Rather,
he taught the commandment to the tribal heads in order that they would be able to tend to their
brethren. Practically speaking, the chiefs would take Moses’ place after he passed away, and thus
needed to study the ins and outs of releasing men and women from their solemn pledges.
In sum, we better understand the timing or placement of oaths and vows coming, as it does, on the
heels of the news that Moses was to ascend Mount Abarim, and shortly die there.
Moses heard from God in chapter 31 to mercilessly avenge the Midianites, an event that would precede
his death. Leaving aside the question regarding the seeming link between both events, Abravanel asks
about the Midianites. What precipitated the bitter animosity? And hadn’t disaster been caused by the
Moabites, as written in the previous Torah portion (Phinehas)?
“And God said to Moses saying. The Children of Israel shall rigorously
avenge the Midianites. Afterward, you shall be gathered unto your
people.”
Here is the correct, plain understanding of the events, according to Abravanel. Recall, earlier in the
Torah, God decorated Phinehas. “God pinned upon Phinehas the covenant of peace.” Moses heard God
convey that a peace treaty should be arranged with the tribe of Simon. This initiative came as a result of
Phinehas having killed that tribe’s chief, Zimri son of Salu. Consequently, patching relations with Simon
became paramount. Peace within the Jewish nation was deemed necessary in order to stem ill-will,
internecine hostilities. Midian was a whole different story.
“The Children of Israel shall rigorously avenge the Midianites.” Readers cannot help but be struck by our
verse’s seemingly disparate goals or war instructions. “The Children of Israel shall rigorously avenge”
suggests something quite different than the ensuing verse, “God shall avenge.” The verse’s changing
emphases (initially the Children of Israel, afterward God) reflect two wrongs that Midian’s women folk
had perpetrated. One, they caused twenty-four thousand Hebrews to perish. Two, besides illicit sex with
the Jews, the ladies induced their Jewish partners to serve idols (the Midianite god, Beor).
The Torah called for double-edged sword retaliation. Insofar as the Jewish people needed redress, the
earlier verse demands “The Children of Israel shall vigorously avenge.” This satisfied the wrongs
perpetrated by Midian against Israel. The Maker, however, had another score to settle with Midian.
“God shall avenge” Midian for having instigated trouble, for having precipitated a pagan pandemic.
Interestingly, we have been discussing the designated target for revenge as Midian and not Moab. Why
the confusion in identities? A prior verse states, “And the people began to whore with Moabite
women.” Not so fast. In fact, Abravanel brings numerous proofs to show that the true culprits hailed
from Midian and not Moab.
Here’s what happened, Abravanel writes. King Balak of Moab, upon hearing Balaam’s repeated
assurances that peace will reign in his day, went home. Balaam didn’t.
No sooner had Balaam approached his native land of Midian than he took a detour. He convened his
fellow citizens and counseled them to execute an ignoble plot. Realizing the futility of trying to budge
the Jews from their religious principles and decouple God’s love for them, he hit upon a weak chink in
their moral armor.
Setting Midianite women loose amidst the Hebrew’s desert haunt, and encouraging them to throw
themselves at the camp’s men, would prove fatal. The girls felled the Jewish men, precisely as Balaam
had schemed. Now, words cannot adequately describe how the God of Israel detests sexual impropriety.
Midianites were only too willing to undermine Heaven’s ethos – where it hurts.
Not wanting to miss the fireworks, per se, Balaam dallied in Midian. And he waited. Owing to Moab’s
and Midian’s proximity to the Hebrew camp, Midian encouraged their women folk to enter the Hebrew
enclave for the express purpose of sex. Disguised as Moabites, a people with open access and entrée to
the encampment to trade and barter, confusion set in. The Hebrews welcomed their guests, seeing that
peaceful relations existed between both peoples.
But then, things got steamy. “And the people began to whore with Moabite women.” Mistaken identity,
a confusion deliberately orchestrated by Midian, wrought disaster. The “Moabite” troupe of doxies
were, indeed, Midianites. The result: a plague that claimed the lives of twenty-four thousand Jews.
Matters worsened. Midianite women conditioned sex on idolatry. Jews needed to pledge allegiance to
Beor, their god. The Hebrew camp became a moral cesspool. Sex and idolatry, courtesy of Balaam’s
initiative and Midian’s execution.
In time, Phinehas saved the day. Notwithstanding, God had marked Midian (and Balaam). Their end
would come soon enough. “The Children of Israel shall rigorously avenge the Midianites.”
Numbers Chapter 32 records an excited exchange between Moses and the Hebrew leadership on the one side,
with Gad and Reuben on the other. Money was at the root of it, as Abravanel learns. “The children of
Gad and the children of Reuben came and spoke unto Moses, and to Eleazar the priest, and unto the
princes of the congregation, saying. Ataroth, and Dibon, and Jazer…. the land which God smote before
the congregation of Israel, is a land for cattle, and your servants have cattle.”
“And the children of Reuben and the children of Gad amassed
impressively large holding of livestock. And they saw the land of Jazer
and the land of Gilead were good for livestock.”
Gad and Reuben didn’t mince words. “And they said, if we have found favor in your sight, let this land be
given unto your servants for a possession. Bring us not over the Jordan.”Abravanel fills in the blanks.
In the previous chapter, we read that God demanded an outright war against the Midianites. In short
shrift, the Hebrew warriors smote them. Laden with war trophies, the victors walked away with tons of
booty.
In that context, it appears that the children of Reuben and Gad acquired hefty quantities of livestock.
Add to Midianite war spoils more cattle that they had presumably garnered in the lands of Sihon and Og.
Bulging with bovine, the two tribes began planning for their long-term financial security. In surveying
Sihon’s and Og’s territories, they decided to ask Moses if they could stay put, having identified a region
perfect for raising herds and flocks.
Learning as Abravanel has, our narrative flows smoothly from those events described in the Midianite
Campaign. We may surmise that Reuben’s and Gad’s net worth burgeoned as a result of their most
recent Midianite windfall.
Indeed, our chapter speaks of Reuben and Gad having the Midas touch. But that is not to assume that
other tribes hadn’t also struck gold. The difference is that Reuben’s and Gad’s wealth prompted them to
submit a petition. Perhaps, their life’s ambition was to work as shepherds. Who knows, Abravanel
surmises. Maybe they had a knack and yearning for it, more than the other tribes.
Each man’s path is right in his eyes, to paraphrase the wise Solomon. Some men are driven by
materialism, delighting in amassing fantabulous fortunes. And cattle ranching provides the means to
reach those ends.
Certainly, Reuben and Gad were cut from that cloth, Abravanel argues. Of the two, Gad seems to have
been the more driven. The Torah hints at this since he is mentioned first, despite Reuben having been
Jacob’s first-born son. Moses alluded to moolah-crazed Gad when he blessed him. “…and rips the arm,
verily, the crown of the head.”Here is imagery, evoking a fearless fighter, confident of his brawn. A
scrappy slugger such as Gad feels no compunction about dwelling among enemies in Transjordan. The
same cannot be said about the other tribes, content to live near each other, concentrated in the Holy
Land.
Abravanel suggests another—more favorable—motivation for Reuben’s and Gad’s request. Reuben was
Jacob’s first-born. He watched primogenitor rights dissipate, slipping through his fingers before being
transferred to Joseph. As for kingship, that bypassed him and went to Judah.
Fed up, Reuben sought distance from his brethren. Relegated to subservience to younger brothers, with
the concomitant loss of face, was too much to handle. Dwelling in the Jordan’s East Bank suited him
best; he desired isolation, and a quiet corner. The idea of little brothers wagging tongues mortified him.
Gad, a son of his mother’s handmaid, joined him. Besides, they had been fellow travelers in the desert
flag formation. Likely they had grown close so the idea of a more permanent alliance jelled.
In sum, Abravanel supplies thoughtful material to better make sense of Gad’s and Reuben’s motivation
to stay put on Jordan’s East Bank.
Essentially a travelogue, Numbers Chapter 33 lists the pit stops along the desert ways. Abravanel probes: Why is it
necessary here to delineate the places where the Hebrews had frequented for the past forty years?
Hadn’t the stops been identified “in real time” as the Jews arrived there? What is gained, he continues,
by grouping all the destinations into a single chapter? Finally, Abravanel wonders whose idea it was to
compose this travelogue – Moses’ or the Creator’s?
“These are the sojourns of the hosts of the Children of Israel who came
out of the land of Egypt by Moses and Aaron.”
Here is the simple reading that address and answer the questions. “These are the sojourns of the hosts
of the Children of Israel who came out of the land of Egypt…”Hosts or myriads of Hebrew soldiers left
Egypt. Moses and Aaron led them. As for the impetus to chronicle the people’s comings and goings, that
was the Creator’s idea, as the next verse makes explicit: “And Moses wrote their goings forth, stage by
stage, by the commandment of God. And these are their stages at their goings forth.”Clearly, it was His
word and His express command. God directed His servant to do so, for He saw great value and benefit in
recording the Hebrew’s desert travelogue. Abravanel provides four takeaways. For brevity, we
summarize the first two.
First, our Torah portion memorializes the magnitude of God’s benevolence shown to the Jews.
This despite His decree that they would wander and wander and wander wasteland roads
without respite. All tallied, forty years witnessed their having encamped in only forty-two
locations, as classic commentators have written. “And you shall dwell in Kadesh many days, like
the days you dwell there.” According to an early historical work, they clocked nineteen years in
that one destination. In fact, the inordinate amount of time they spent in Kadesh pretty much
matches up with the remainder of all of the other stops put together.
Second, readers should not walk away with the wrong impression. To state the obvious, there
are deserts and there are deserts. The one where the Hebrews walked was not the milder sort
that skirt or border civilization. That is, Abravanel teaches, they were not the arid climes
popular with Kedar Arabs, who dwell in them. This clan plants and harvests their deserts. Trees,
grazing pastures, and water wells soften their nomadic existence, making it bearable.
A study in contrast, the Jew’s sojourns featured none of that. Vast, Sinai’s deserts offered heaps
of treachery. Poisonous vipers, scorpions, and an oppressively parching sun called it home. “It is
not a place for sowing seeds or fig trees,” the Torah writes elsewhere in Numbers. As for
water—nada.
So fundamental is this knowledge for posterity, the Torah insists on listing each and every name
place. No Bible student can deny the tribulations that were the Hebrews’ lot. A veritable
pit—for forty years the people had plodded along.
In sum, Abravanel clarifies that it was the Maker’s initiative to succinctly record the nation’s
wasteland itinerary. He saw value the desert travelogue, in several distinct ways, as alluded to
here.
Dutifully, Moses chronicled the desert years—highs and lows. When complete, he charted the circuitous
trek which had begun in Egypt and continued until the plains of Moab. Standing close to the Jordan
River, the prophet understood that he had reached the end of his road, his journey. God told him
explicitly that he would not be crossing the Jordan into Israel with his brethren. Perhaps with not a little
poetic justice, the camp rested in Avel Shittim. In Hebrew “Avel” means “a mourner.” Moses knew for
whom the nation would soon mourn.
“And God spoke to Moses saying. Command the Children of Israel, and
say to them: When you come into the land of Canaan, this shall be the
land that shall fall unto you for an inheritance, even the land of Canaan
according to the borders thereof.”
Here in Chapter 34, according to Abravanel, we find an unrecorded conversation between the Maker
and His prophet, Moses. His mood was one of queasy unrest—quite absorbed and distracted.
Unplugged, Moses muttered to himself:
I have toiled but found no peace. I brought this people out of Egypt. I have led and guided them for forty
years in efforts to bring them into Canaan. Here I stand on banks of the Jordan. And yet I am deprived of
crossing over it and have not merited to settle my people there. The task goes to another man; he will
situate them.
A fig orchard I have harvested but shall not taste its fruit. Joshua, my attendant, will delight in the sweet
fruit. The land will be called by his name. Armies he will conquer. And he will bequeath the same to the
Children of Israel. Forgotten shall be my name, a name to be cast aside and buried.
Sullen and dejected, Moses sank lower and lower. God sought to buoy His sullen servant’s sagging spirit.
Of course, He knew exactly what would comfort and revive him: fulfilling commandments.
So, God gave Moses directives, specifically those obligations that are dependent upon the Holy Land like
those associated with its conquering and division among the tribes. In so many words, the Creator
explained that besides granting him an unobstructed view of Canaan, He would outline for the prophet
those things he yearned to perform, if only given a chance. God neatly divided Moses’ presumed wish
list into five broad categories.
Light shone in. Moses heard God say that even had he traversed the Jordan, the only realistic way to
accomplish these worthy goals would come by way of enlisting other’s help. Finding, hiring, and
directing lieutenants proved key. As project manager, if you will, the enterprises would bear Moses’
name since he had set the machinery in motion. Should he put together a team and command them to
implement those five areas delineated above, then Moses’ funk would lift commensurately. Without a
tad of hyperbole, it would be akin to his having physically been there in person, overseeing the
operations.
This unrecorded exchange, according to Abravanel, takes readers behind the scenes. Here is the context
whereby Moses takes charge and wraps up crucial operations, the subjects of the final chapters in
Numbers.
Words can hardly describe the burning desire Moses felt when he thought about allotting land in Israel
to his fellow Levites. They were, after all, his closest kin. To be sure, Moses had already apprised them
that they were not entitled to landed rights within Canaan. But now the subject is broached anew, this
time with a zest—as the first part of Numbers 35 teaches.
“And God spoke to Moses in the plains of Moab, adjacent to Jericho
saying…”
In the previous blog (Numbers 34), Abravanel shared an “insider’s look” into Numbers’ final chapters. In
short, God tasked Moses with fulfilling five commandments, during the prophet’s waning days. Here, we
will concentrate on the fourth divine directive.
“Command the Children of Israel that they should give to the Levites from their inheritance, cities in
which they can dwell. Besides, they shall donate to the Levites a plot of land beyond their cities.” Moses
heard God’s sentiments on this topic, one so close to the prophet’s heart. If he desires, while still alive
and capable, to give over cities in which fellow Levites may dwell—this too Moses could not have done
had he crossed the Jordan without assistance. Rather, he would have had to rely on men to carry out his
good intentions.
Locating, surveying, and measuring are all jobs requiring a crew. But Moses can, God told him, put this
into action today, from here in the plains of Moab. “Command the Children of Israel that they should
give to the Levites…”
Recall, in Israel the Levites subsisted on public tithes. Given that secure, base income, they did not have
to overly concern themselves with supporting themselves. Thus, the need for fields and vineyards hardly
registered a blip on their minds. Nevertheless, they did require a housing solution, cities in which to
dwell. “The bedroom communities that you shall give to the Levites shall extend beyond one thousand
cubits beyond the city wall.” Call it a multi-purpose land zone. It would be used as grazing space for their
flocks or otherwise useful solution to pursue their interests. “…for their property and for all their
animals.”The Talmudic sages learn that Levites did not zone that area for burying their dead. Instead, it
was to serve for their living needs.
Moses laid out more detailed parameters for the Levite’s living, working, and leisure quarters. “And they
shall measure beyond the city to the western exposure two thousand cubits, and the southern exposure
two thousand cubits…”Really, it came down to an outright grant and ample residential and commercial
spaces for the Levites. Indeed, the plan was forward thinking and efficient, one whose touchstone
featured waste management. That is, from the residential areas the Levites carried biodegradable trash
to their surrounding fields and vineyards. It also included other social-friendly amenities like placing
animals that potentially may damage others beyond people’s homes and sidewalks. All this, Abravanel
adds, resulted in a type of city master plan, replete with residential, commercial, and agricultural areas.
Numbers 36 concludes the fourth Book of Moses. Abravanel links this chapter to the preceding ones,
chapters that capture Moses’ energetically wrapping up the affairs of his nation. Here, the focus is on
the third commandment (of five) that God asked the prophet to perform before he passed away:
apportionment of territory in Canaan to the twelve tribes. In that vein, our verse introduces an exchange
between Moses and Joseph’s tribal heads.
“And the patriarchal heads of the sons of Gilead son of Mahir son of
Manasseh descendants of Joseph approached. And they spoke before
Moses and before the princes – patriarchal heads of the Children of
Israel.”
It had not been lost on Joseph’s tribal leaders that Moses issued a raft of commandments as his death
loomed. The tenor of these directives followed a single thread: dividing Canaan as the first step toward
deeding it to the tribes. In truth, Moses’ behavior resembled the flurry of activity in which an aging
father engages when on his death bed.
This is the background, then, when Joseph’s descendants came before Moses. They were eager to revisit
the Daughters of ZelophehadAccords—and revise them. What was the problem with the agreement? In
a word, Joseph’s territory stood to lose ground if Zelophehad’s daughters married men from other
tribes, as our chapter suggests.
“And when the Children of Israel celebrate the jubilee, their legacy will [revert and] accrue to those
tribes into which they (the daughters) marry, and it will lessen our father’s tribe’s legacy.” In cases of the
daughters of Zelophehad “marrying out”, the plaintiffs explained, their own loss would be irreversible.
The laws of jubilee, recall, feature a return of land to their original and former holders. Notwithstanding
the equalizing effect of the jubilee, in Joseph’s case, there would be no remedy or relief. That is, even
when the jubilee arrived, Joseph’s territory would not revert back to the that tribe as only the women’s
husbands’ tribes would benefit. Hence, Joseph’s suit centered on hedging against a potentially
devastating socioeconomic event. For unlike the case of sales (which are reversed in the jubilee), the
transfer of ownership brought about through inheritance is permanent. Underscore and bold: it is not
undone by the jubilee year.
As we reach the end of Numbers, let us take stock, Abravanel advises. In particular, let us track
the sequence of events, pegged to when the Maker told Moses to ascend Mount Abarim
continuing until this present juncture.
Now it is plain why after the Torah’s listing the Hebrew sojourns it led to what Abravanel may
call the “five commandments”, per se. He understands why they had not been issued earlier.
Apropos, Abravanel conveys why they are credited to the prophet, though logic may dictate
that Joshua get the “credit” insofar as he liberated Canaan and he acted as the trustor for the
tribes to inherit the Holy Land. Joshua performed those tasks since Moses had not crossed the
Jordan.
“These are the commandments and statutes which God commanded Moses to the Children of
Israel on the plains of Moab along the Jordan, across from Jericho.” Certainly, the tone suggests
that Moses had been there in person, though, of course, he wasn’t.
In review, Abravanel puts forth that God requested Moses to execute five commandments
before the prophet’s death. The Creator assuaged His loyal servant’s concerns about not
crossing the Jordan River. This buoyed Moses’ spirits, allowing him attend to tasks that would
forever be associated with the prophet’s legacy.