Bamidbar
Numbers 1:1 – 4:20

By Jen Smith

The Book of Bamidbar (the Book of Numbers) opens with a divine accounting of every individual in the Israelite camp. “Take a census of the whole Israelite community… by name, each man according to his ancestral house” (Numbers 1:2). At first read, this might seem like an example of ancient bureaucracy; but beneath the surface lies a profound spiritual truth that identity begins to unfold in the “wilderness.”

Bamidbar means “in the desert,” and it is no coincidence that this barren, liminal, and lonely place becomes the setting for self-discovery. The wilderness strips us of routine and illusion. It is where we meet ourselves; not the roles we play, but rather the soul that burns beneath. In her Shavuot d’var Torah, Rabbi Weiss spoke to us about the transformational nature of trauma and discovery, and one point really struck me: For better or worse, we emerge from these times a new version of ourselves.

Jewish mysticism teaches that each person carries a Divine spark within, which is a unique fragment of God’s light entrusted to us at birth. This spark is not always visible, nor always palpable. Sometimes it flickers, hidden behind the screens of habits, fear, loneliness, or fatigue. Sometimes the path toward this spark dark or obscured, but one thing is for certain – it is always there. Just like the ner tamid that stays alight above the ark holding the Torahs, the flame endures. Our sacred and unfinished work is to recognize the Divine spark, feel it, nurture it, and listen to how it burns.

That’s one thing that makes Bamidbar such a rich and complex Torah portion. The census isn’t about numbers; it is about names and souls. Each person is counted by name because each person has a unique light.  Whether in a camp of thousands (like the Israelites at Sinai) or one of millions (modern diaspora Jews), no one’s essence is duplicated, nor is it replaceable. Each human life was created intentionally with sacred purpose. Your life is a thread in the sacred tapestry.

This journey can be disorienting, especially within the context of our most loving relationships. When we begin to change and listen more closely to the voice of our soul, it can be unsettling for those around us. And yet, true connection isn’t threatened by growth – it is deepened by it. The Israelites escaped bondage with their tribes under unique banners, each tribe with their own role. And yet they moved as one through the desert, fueled not by shared fear, but rather a shared commitment to their ultimate purpose and presence.

The Zohar, the foundational text in Jewish mysticism, describes the wilderness as devoid of the Shekhinah (the Divine presence that dwells within). In other words, when we feel most unsure, in times of transition and transformation, we are never far from God. In these moments, we are standing in a place of revelation.

The Israelites most definitely didn’t take the scenic route through the wilderness, but it was the only path forward to transform the experience of bondage into faith, strength, and resolve. And so, this is our path as well. May we find the courage to walk through our own midbar – our own desert wilderness – to face hard truths and to discover who we are, and to let our discovery make us more whole. Because even now, Sinai calls. Not with thunder, but with a whisper: Remember your name. Nurture your spark. You are not lost…you are unfolding.