In this week’s parsha, we learn a critical lesson in the Torah’s narrative – a big-picture “ahha” moment in our development as a People. It could have been a relatively quick trip from Mitzrayim/Egypt to Eretz Yisrael/the land of Israel, even with the mixed multitudes and the difficulty of desert travel. Yet we wandered for 40 years – the time it took for the generation that left Egypt to die. Why? What was it about these people that causes their wandering to be so prolonged? Why did the generation that left Egypt have to die without reaching the Promised Land? In this week’s parsha, God, as the proverbial parent, says “that’s it! I’ve had enough! You’re grounded … permanently!”
In parsha Sh’lach L’kha, Moshe is instructed to send scouts to check out Canaan. Surely God, who instructed Moshe to send these scouts, knew what the land was like and could
have easily told Moshe so that he could then tell the people what to expect. Instead, however, the people themselves are sent to survey the land and its inhabitants and to report their vision for the quality of life the People will have in the land that God has promised them. And the Hebrew – sh’lach lekha – send to you, literally – hints at what they are truly sent to look into – themselves, their own character and constitution.
After forty days, the scouts return with reports of a land “flowing with milk and honey” and they bring beautiful fruit to show the bounty of the land and its local, sustainable
produce (surely it would be a hit with our Little Minyan!). However, they have been sent out to report on the habitability of the land … how the Israelites will fare with those who already live there and with the land. Instead of having vision, faith, and a glass-half-full attitude, their report is grave, informed by fear and xenophobia and fraught with a complete lack of self-confidence and faith. The scouts (the notable exceptions being Joshua and Caleb with their can-
do attitudes) see a land that “devours its settlers” (Num. 13:32) and see themselves as “grasshoppers” – small edible insects that would be devoured by the other communities. The scouts’ low self-esteem and poor communal opinion infects all the Israelites who begin to whine and cry, wishing to go back to Egypt or die in the wilderness rather than inheriting the land that God has promised them. Although Joshua and Caleb try to convince the People to have faith and strength of character, they are not ready. Fear and wimpishness are
pervasive and God is angry, asking Moshe: “how long will they have no faith in Me despite the signs that I have performed in their midst?” Moshe placates God with the same words he has used before, reminding God that God is slow to anger and abounding in kindness, and asks that God forgive this people as God has with all their other transgressions since leaving Egypt. God agrees to let subsequent generations inherit the Land, but this group that has seen all of the signs in Egypt and the wilderness and still refuses to have faith, these folks have used up all their chips … they are doomed by their own pessimism to remain b’midbar/in the wilderness.
Do you recognize any of that fear and pessimism in your own approach to new places, new situations, new people? Do you judge a situation with only limited information?
How do you react to new opportunities? When you are presented with a chance to survey the road ahead, how do you see the opportunities and the obstacles? How do you see yourself?
When we fail to recognize our full potential – the gifts and talents that we bring to the world, we make ourselves small like grasshoppers, easy prey for our harsh inner critic and those who might wish to capitalize on our fear or lack of self-confidence. When we fail to recognize our full potential, we also invalidate the faith of those who believe in us and value our contributions to the world. There is a vast difference between confidence and hubris, and yet, too often, some of us struggle to stand comfortably in the requisite confidence to advance and claim our place in the world, because standing there – seeing ourselves as worthy, big, and beautiful – feels prideful. It isn’t. It is faithful. When we overcome the fear and stand in the truth of our
full capacity we are the People who are ready “know the Land” (Num. 14:31) and taste the metaphorical milk and honey.
Just like the prose and poetry of Torah, the prose and poetry of modern times can awaken us to the promise within us. During this moon cycle, we lost an enormous American hero of the pen, Dr. Maya Angelou. In the poem she entitled Touched by and Angel , she suggests that “we are weaned from our timidity in the flush of love’s light.” How much more would the words of Torah speak to us if we were to unshackle ourselves from pediatric notions of an anthropomorphic God, a puppeteer or omnipotent overlord, and instead use expansive concepts such as Love, Energy, Strength, Holiness, Awe …
The Torah is a living document with so many lessons, prompts for self-reflection, and
encouragement for right conduct. This week’s parsha is particularly rich in practical application, however each parsha and the commentary of our sages contain nuggets that we can mine at different stages in our journey. Members of our Little Minyan kehilla study Torah regularly together. Dates and locations can be found on our
calendar
or by contacting Student Rabbi and Spiritual Leader Jessica K. Shimberg.
