The book of Bamidbar is known as Sefer Pikudim, the Book of Numbers. It would seem odd that the book takes its name of numbers, given that the numbers of the census, the countings of the people, appear only in Parshas Bamidbar and Pinchas.
Sefer Vayikra, called Toras Kohanim, or Leviticus, deals with kohanim, their roles and duties throughout. Sefer Shemos, or Exodus, deals with the Exodus and what followed.
So what are the Pikudim after which the Sefer is named?
Bamidbar is not the Torah of numbers, of countings; rather, it is the Torah of logistics, or context. All the parshiyos discuss the formation and development of a society, the Machane, the encampment.
Parshas Naso begins with the Levi’im, Gershon, Kehas and Merari, and their respective roles. There are four interceding parshiyos until the logical continuation of forming the camp, wherein the nesi’im of each tribe bring the Korbanos for their tribe. The interceding mitzvos are about (1) how a tzarua and zav (certain types of zzzz) must leave the camp, (2) A convert who dies with no family, his possessions go to the kohanim, (3) Sotah and (4) Nazir.
What are these four mitzvos that they interrupt the establishment of society?
In truth, they aren’t. The laws of the tzarua and zav aren’t in Parshas Metzora, as in essence, the laws here aren’t regarding him, so much as they are ourselves, society. Our society, the Machane, is lacking while he is a part of it, and that is why he must leave.
Regarding the convert with no relatives, he poses a difficulty to a normal person. Jews have a serious community setup, on top of which, on a large enough family tree, everyone is interrelated. The convert has no one. His possessions are bequeathed to the kohen. But regarding our society, the setup would seem to be incomplete – he is foreign, how do we deal with him? – but he is still integrated, and this completes society.
The Sotah has deviated from soicety’s setup, for obvious reasons.
The Nazir, whilst admirable for his commitment, has deviated from what is normal too. Drinking wine and cutting hair are normal things to do. Not doing them is abnormal.
All these people are not normal. But the Torah tells us that they are all part of the setup, and the nesi’im were offering korbanos for them too, an imperfect but complete society.
Regarding the Korbanos, the question begs to be asked, why does the Torah repeat each nasi’s korban, given that they were all identical?
The of numbers in Sefer Bamidbar is that being part of a number generates a speciality.
Each set of korbanos ends with zeh. zeh has the numerical value of 12, the number of tribes. Elsewhere, a number is impersonal; but here, the underlying theme is that speciality lies in being a part of the number, so much so that deviating from it is bad. zeh is the klal. We are all part of the klal. The Torah tells us the total number of korbanos brought, but this seems unnecessary. Can’t we add up the figures ourselves? The answer is the same – the Torah appreciates the community, wherein there total has greater speciality than the number of individuals.
There is a story told about a person taking an exam in a crowded classroom.The invigilator calls for time, and the exams end, and the invigilator collects a large stack of papers. The student refuses to hand his paper in, and remains behind and continues to write. After a while passes, the other students having long gone, the lone student left writing furiously, whilst the invigilator is at his desk working his way through a stack of papers, marking them. The student gets up nonchalantly, and strolls casually to the front to hand in his paper.
Looking up, noticing the student approaching, the invigilator exclaims, “You can’t hand that in now, the exam was over nearly an hour ago!”.
Leaning over the invigilators table, the student asks, with fervor, “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“No, and I could not care less!” replied the invigilator.
The student smiled, and says “Good!”, upon which, he thrusts his paper in the middle of the stack of unmarked papers.
We see from this week’s parsha that the way to express individuality is from within the klal.
The same is true of Birchas Kohanim, also in this week’s parsha – the bracha is not originating from the kohen; it’s from Hashem. It is for the whole klal, but personalised.
The halacha is before the kohanim start they should clench their fists, and once they start they open. When the fists are clenched, they fist is flat – it is the same. But when the fingers protrude, they are all different, much as we all are.