3.12.25
Good morning!
At the beginning of Numbers...what? I thought we were in Exodus! Yes and yes :-) ...The Lord/Yahweh commands Moses to count the people. Though we’ve heard many controversial ideas about ‘counting’ the people, it’s obviously something Yahweh values. It must be something Yahweh does on a regular basis. As a Shepherd would count His sheep each night, apparently that’s what Yahweh does with us (Matt. 18:12). We are so valuable to Him (Jn. 10:10). Why would Yahweh do this? If we are His valuable assets then He must be like a billionaire who rubs His hands together in glee as He counts His money. He never gets tired of counting and cherishing His possessions.
When we read these first few chapters in Numbers we find that there are actually two different words for ‘count’. They are nasah and pakad. Like many words they carry more than one meaning. Take a look for a minute at these two remarkable verses where these words appear. First there is Numbers 1:49 where Yahweh tells Moses, "do not count/pakad the tribe of Levi. It sounds strange, but he means that Levi is going to be separated from the community, they're not going to be counted along with the other people. Then it says, and also don't count/nasa their heads. Huh?
"Only the tribe of Levi you shall not number/paqad, nor the sum/nasa of them among the children of Israel" (Num. 1:49)
So confusing, right? Now look at the very next verse:
"But you shall appoint/paqad the Levites over the Tabernacle of Testimony, and over all the vessels thereof, and over all things that belong to it: they shall carry/nasa the tabernacle, and all the vessels thereof; and they shall minister unto it, and shall encamp round about the tabernacle. (Num. 1:50)
Here, the word paqad is used differently; it means appoint the Levites upon the Tabernacle. They're going to be in charge of the Tabernacle and all of its associated utensils. Then, as if on cue, they're going to carry/nasa the Mishkan. So you have these same words that used to mean to count in a verse right after they've been used to mean to count but now they don't mean count anymore, they mean something else entirely; appoint and carry. Leading to the great question, are the two meanings for each of these words related to one another? Is there a connection between counting and appointing? Is there a connection between counting and lifting? Enquiring minds want to know.
It turns out that whenever the opening chapters of Numbers use the word count/Nasa it's always paired with lift up the heads/nasa rosh of the children of Israel. What a strange way of thinking about counting. Let's think for a minute and play a little game of the obvious, you know if I'm lifting up heads then where were the heads before I lifted them? Presumably they were looking down...hmm. There seems to be something affirming, uplifting, in some way about counting. It's almost like someone has gone from feeling downcast and now they're looking up and counting somehow is the thing that made it happen. And if that sounds entirely farfetched to you, just think about the English word count, it really has two meanings. One in the sense of numerically counting things, the other in terms of self-worth; when somebody has self-worth they feel like they count! Ahh, very interesting Professor Dumpling.
When we talk about paqad, another word for counting or taking the sum, it can also mean to appoint. But actually rather than the word appoint I would say more precisely it means to entrust. It's related to the Hebrew word Pikadon. A Pikadon is an object that I give you, that I own, that I entrust you with, I give it to you for safekeeping (i.e. parable of the talents, pounds, materials for the tabernacle, your job, etc.,). In a way that's what happens when you get appointed to carry out some sort of responsibility, you're actually entrusted with some sort of responsibility, it's like you've been given a Pikadon to watch over, to safeguard. So somehow then maybe this idea of being counted also has to do with the idea of being entrusted in some way.
Maybe the two meanings of Pakad/entrust/count, and the two meanings of Nasah/lift up/count, are kind of connected to each other. Maybe the idea of Pakad explains the idea of Nasah. In other words, if you ask, 'what is it about being counted that makes me feel meaningful'? That makes me able to lift up my face? The answer is, it's the idea of being entrusted, having some sort of responsibility with reference to a goal that's much larger than myself. When I feel entrusted with that goal I really do feel like I count.
You see, at the end of the day what makes me feel as if I can lift my face up in the morning? What makes me feel like my life counts for something? Most people would say the answer to that is in living for something that is larger than yourself. If the only meaning of my life is self-preservation then it's like I live in order to live, that doesn't seem very meaningful, I need to live for something that's larger than myself, that will continue to exist, that will be noble and good and right even when I, little me, goes away.
This idea of meaning is one of the reasons why people join communities. Let me ask you this, why not just be a solitary individual? A rugged individual, like a cowboy off in Never-Never Land, not Tomorrow Land. Why be a part of a group at all? So yes there's all sorts of reasons, there's self-preservation, we can band together and protect ourselves better if we're part of a group. But there's actually a positive reason for joining a group as well, I might want to join a community if there was some sort of large, overarching goal that I could not achieve just by myself. One person can't solve poverty in Africa, one person can't ensure that battered children have a place to go on a dark and cold night. One person can't stop sex-traffic in Seattle. We join together with others when the projects we are trying to achieve exceed the grasp of any one individual.
But there's also a danger here. Sometimes I join together with a group of individuals but the individuals don't really form a group, there's no real cohesion, it's just a whole bunch of people living together and I feel alone and isolated even though there are 'zillions' of people around me. Each individual has very fine ideals, but one doesn't really connect to another and there's no overall purpose for the group. That's one kind of failed community.
But there's another kind of failed community too, which is a community whose sense of community is so dramatic, so pronounced, that it squashes all sense of individuality from among its members. The Western complaint against Communism was essentially that, it's a faceless kind of community, there is no room for individuality in a community that swallows everything.
But there's a third kind of community, this is what each of us long for, the kind of community that actually works, where people actually can find meaning. Every individual has a part of them which is their own individual identity, but there's a communal identity as well, and these things harmonize with each other, they work together. Each member of the community has a vital role to play in actualizing the mission of the whole.
You see, what is it like to be part of the third kind of community? That community where individuality is prized and communal purpose is sacred. In that kind of community as an individual I want to lend my unique capabilities and gifts towards a great communal goal that I can believe in. I want to contribute to the grand communal enterprise, because by contributing I count. It's probably why elsewhere in the Torah when Israel is counted each person is meant to contribute something physical, a half-Shekel (this coming Friday night zoom call at 8:00 p.m. EST. It's by contributing to a communal endeavor that we count. And we count because we feel that we have a stake in the great mission of the community, that we are entrusted with that mission. That we are somehow personally responsible for it. It is through that sense of being entrusted with goals that are larger than myself, that I get real meaning in life.
Let me know which community you belong to; one, two or three.
Shalom!
When we read these first few chapters in Numbers we find that there are actually two different words for ‘count’. They are nasah and pakad. Like many words they carry more than one meaning. Take a look for a minute at these two remarkable verses where these words appear. First there is Numbers 1:49 where Yahweh tells Moses, "do not count/pakad the tribe of Levi. It sounds strange, but he means that Levi is going to be separated from the community, they're not going to be counted along with the other people. Then it says, and also don't count/nasa their heads. Huh?
"Only the tribe of Levi you shall not number/paqad, nor the sum/nasa of them among the children of Israel" (Num. 1:49)
So confusing, right? Now look at the very next verse:
"But you shall appoint/paqad the Levites over the Tabernacle of Testimony, and over all the vessels thereof, and over all things that belong to it: they shall carry/nasa the tabernacle, and all the vessels thereof; and they shall minister unto it, and shall encamp round about the tabernacle. (Num. 1:50)
Here, the word paqad is used differently; it means appoint the Levites upon the Tabernacle. They're going to be in charge of the Tabernacle and all of its associated utensils. Then, as if on cue, they're going to carry/nasa the Mishkan. So you have these same words that used to mean to count in a verse right after they've been used to mean to count but now they don't mean count anymore, they mean something else entirely; appoint and carry. Leading to the great question, are the two meanings for each of these words related to one another? Is there a connection between counting and appointing? Is there a connection between counting and lifting? Enquiring minds want to know.
It turns out that whenever the opening chapters of Numbers use the word count/Nasa it's always paired with lift up the heads/nasa rosh of the children of Israel. What a strange way of thinking about counting. Let's think for a minute and play a little game of the obvious, you know if I'm lifting up heads then where were the heads before I lifted them? Presumably they were looking down...hmm. There seems to be something affirming, uplifting, in some way about counting. It's almost like someone has gone from feeling downcast and now they're looking up and counting somehow is the thing that made it happen. And if that sounds entirely farfetched to you, just think about the English word count, it really has two meanings. One in the sense of numerically counting things, the other in terms of self-worth; when somebody has self-worth they feel like they count! Ahh, very interesting Professor Dumpling.
When we talk about paqad, another word for counting or taking the sum, it can also mean to appoint. But actually rather than the word appoint I would say more precisely it means to entrust. It's related to the Hebrew word Pikadon. A Pikadon is an object that I give you, that I own, that I entrust you with, I give it to you for safekeeping (i.e. parable of the talents, pounds, materials for the tabernacle, your job, etc.,). In a way that's what happens when you get appointed to carry out some sort of responsibility, you're actually entrusted with some sort of responsibility, it's like you've been given a Pikadon to watch over, to safeguard. So somehow then maybe this idea of being counted also has to do with the idea of being entrusted in some way.
Maybe the two meanings of Pakad/entrust/count, and the two meanings of Nasah/lift up/count, are kind of connected to each other. Maybe the idea of Pakad explains the idea of Nasah. In other words, if you ask, 'what is it about being counted that makes me feel meaningful'? That makes me able to lift up my face? The answer is, it's the idea of being entrusted, having some sort of responsibility with reference to a goal that's much larger than myself. When I feel entrusted with that goal I really do feel like I count.
You see, at the end of the day what makes me feel as if I can lift my face up in the morning? What makes me feel like my life counts for something? Most people would say the answer to that is in living for something that is larger than yourself. If the only meaning of my life is self-preservation then it's like I live in order to live, that doesn't seem very meaningful, I need to live for something that's larger than myself, that will continue to exist, that will be noble and good and right even when I, little me, goes away.
This idea of meaning is one of the reasons why people join communities. Let me ask you this, why not just be a solitary individual? A rugged individual, like a cowboy off in Never-Never Land, not Tomorrow Land. Why be a part of a group at all? So yes there's all sorts of reasons, there's self-preservation, we can band together and protect ourselves better if we're part of a group. But there's actually a positive reason for joining a group as well, I might want to join a community if there was some sort of large, overarching goal that I could not achieve just by myself. One person can't solve poverty in Africa, one person can't ensure that battered children have a place to go on a dark and cold night. One person can't stop sex-traffic in Seattle. We join together with others when the projects we are trying to achieve exceed the grasp of any one individual.
But there's also a danger here. Sometimes I join together with a group of individuals but the individuals don't really form a group, there's no real cohesion, it's just a whole bunch of people living together and I feel alone and isolated even though there are 'zillions' of people around me. Each individual has very fine ideals, but one doesn't really connect to another and there's no overall purpose for the group. That's one kind of failed community.
But there's another kind of failed community too, which is a community whose sense of community is so dramatic, so pronounced, that it squashes all sense of individuality from among its members. The Western complaint against Communism was essentially that, it's a faceless kind of community, there is no room for individuality in a community that swallows everything.
But there's a third kind of community, this is what each of us long for, the kind of community that actually works, where people actually can find meaning. Every individual has a part of them which is their own individual identity, but there's a communal identity as well, and these things harmonize with each other, they work together. Each member of the community has a vital role to play in actualizing the mission of the whole.
You see, what is it like to be part of the third kind of community? That community where individuality is prized and communal purpose is sacred. In that kind of community as an individual I want to lend my unique capabilities and gifts towards a great communal goal that I can believe in. I want to contribute to the grand communal enterprise, because by contributing I count. It's probably why elsewhere in the Torah when Israel is counted each person is meant to contribute something physical, a half-Shekel (this coming Friday night zoom call at 8:00 p.m. EST. It's by contributing to a communal endeavor that we count. And we count because we feel that we have a stake in the great mission of the community, that we are entrusted with that mission. That we are somehow personally responsible for it. It is through that sense of being entrusted with goals that are larger than myself, that I get real meaning in life.
Let me know which community you belong to; one, two or three.
Shalom!
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