BaMidbar
Numbers

This week we plunge into the book of Numbers. It opens in the second year since the Exodus. God’s Presence dwells now in the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, and it is from there that God addresses Moses with orders concerning taking a census of the people. Here come the numbers!

The men of fighting age are to be counted by their families and tribes. A prince of each tribe is named to assist in this work and it is carried out the same day. Over 603,000 are counted altogether, a number that makes little sense given the practicalities of ancient tribal wilderness life. Some modern scholars contend that the term “thousand” (as in 603 thousand) probably means a military unit, rather than one thousand people. 603 units of a half dozen or so is much more likely. Or perhaps other scholars are correct and the numbers reflect populations at the time of the Davidic dynasty, projected back onto the past at the time when the story was written down.

In any case, another large part of the portion is devoted to a separate special counting of the Levites by their three main clans, each of which is given specific and separate duties of holy service with the Mishkan. Mention is made that a transition is occurring from the more ancient times when the first born of people and their animals were given over to the service of God to a new system where the whole tribe a Levi will oversee the Mishkan and all related duties. The firstborn remain special to God, and to this day, traditional Jews are careful to find a hereditary cohen, priest, to pay a small ransom to “redeem” their first born sons and technically free them from Temple duty in a ceremony called Pidyon HaBen.

The plan for the encampment is delineated as well. The people did not just camp all around, wherever they pleased. The camp was very orderly in military fashion, with the Mishkan at the very center. On the four compass points around it, the Levites encamped by their clans: sons of Gershon to the west, sons of Kohath to the south, sons of Merari to the north, and the seats on the ultimate “eastern wall” were reserved for Moses’ and Aaron‘s tents. Around all of them, the twelve tribes were encamped, three on each side of the holy precinct, according to their order in the marching procession when they broke camp.

It is interesting to consider what it would mean to live with what you value most at the literal center of the community. Each person, by clan, has a God-given place in this scheme; each individual belongs somewhere on the map where all points are defined by their relation to the Presence of God at the center.

Many argue about the religious meaning of the recording of all these numbers. Does it indicate that each individual was precious and necessary? If so, why only count men of fighting status? Does it indicate the importance of being in a state of readiness to do battle? Does it vouch for the historicity of the story? Is it meant to impress or amaze us? The Hasidic Rebbe Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev taught that there were exactly as many Israelites counted as there are letters in the Torah!

I’ve never been very good with numbers. I also tend to side with Mark Twain, who has been quoted as saying something like, “There are three kinds of dishonest people: liars, damned liars, and statisticians." We contemporary Jews are fairly obsessed with numbering ourselves and declaring our own imminent demise. Every ten years, the nation body of Jewish Federations, now called the United Jewish Communities, undertakes a Jewish Population Study. The results are used around the country to determine community priorities, particularly with respect to how to allocate funding for programming.

But the findings are far from absolutely certain. The Jewish Population Study of 2000 seemed to indicate the presence of 5.2 million Jews, down from 5.5 ten years before. Adding in those closely associated and identified with Jews, and you get a total population of about 6.9 million. Demographer Gary Tobin disputes this. He says the number is more like 6.7 million with another 2.5 closely associated, resulting in a Jewish population of more like 9.2 million, and that it isn’t shrinking at all. Evidently, it all depends exactly what you ask, who you ask, and what you assume. And anyway, the Gallup Poll people count over 80% of Americans identifying as Christian, and lump the Jews in with the 16% or so who claim “other” religions. So how much do we “count”?
When the Jewish Population Survey numbers came out earlier this year, I sided with Professor Douglas Rushkoff, who wrote in the New York Times (11-20-02):

“For too long, the health of Judaism has been defined largely by numbers. Certainly, this is understandable -- a concern traceable to some very real and recent efforts at eliminating the Jewish population. But must we forever judge the future of American Judaism as if we were evaluating the health of an endangered species?

The problem for Jews today, if there is one, is not waning demographics or cultural assimilation. It is the focus on these factors as the core priorities of the Jewish faith. In fact, it is only by liberating ourselves from these metrics that we become able to understand how Judaism is not on the brink of extinction at all, but poised for renaissance.”

Maybe I’m just an optimist, but I have never thought our vibrancy and viability could be counted in our numbers. Counting often conceals more than it reveals, and skews opinions with unfounded assumptions. More important than the numbers, BaMidbar encourages us to find our ancestral place among the people, and hold to a vision of God as central. The power of a community committed to living like that goes far beyond its numbers.

Rabbi Alexis Roberts
©May 2003