To Count is to be Counted Upon

Dependability Determines Self Worth

By Yoseph Kahanov, Jax Fl.

It was the Baal Shem Tov’s custom to draw out his prayers on Friday evenings. His disciples, who typically finished before him, would wait for their Rebbe to conclude, so that they may join him in the Shabbos meal.
It happened, on a given Friday, that one of the participants felt rather hungry. He thought to himself: “There is still plenty of time before the Baal Shem Tov will complete his prayers; I ought to go and eat something. In all likelihood, I will be back before he’s done. Besides, there are plenty of others around; I shall certainly not be missed.”

Seeing him slip out the door, another fellow decided to do the same. This started a chain reaction and soon the Baal Shem Tov was left to himself. Imagine their embarrassment, when, upon their return, they found their Rebbe sitting all alone waiting for them.

The Baal Shem Tov lovingly explained to them that a head is only as high as the body on which it rests. He said that his ability to stay “up there,” and function as their head, depended entirely on the degree of their individual and collective commitment.

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It is difficult for a person to have a sense of personal worth if he does not feel that he is serving a purpose. All the items we value are either functional or ornamental. They either serve a purpose of some sort or they are decorative. For example, if you have a handsome grandfather clock that stops working, you may retain it for its aesthetic value as a beautiful piece of furniture. But if a can-opener stops functioning you simply throw it away. Since it has no aesthetic value, it has no value whatever when its function is gone.

Relatively few people can consider themselves to be ornamental, and so our sense of value; our personal worth, can come only from the knowledge that we are doing something. But if all we are doing is satiating our various appetites, that hardly gives much significance to our existence . . .
(Rabbi Abraham J. Twersky M.D.)

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We all want to count for something; it’s human nature. In fact, our very identity and self worth is inextricably linked with how much we are needed. Not to be needed, by anyone for anything, is tantamount to irrelevance and worthlessness – it is to count for nothing.

The latter is not something that is learned or even understood, it is as instinctive as are the feelings of pain, hunger, love and fear. However not as obvious, is the fact that to count is to be counted-upon.
While we all want to count and be needed, responsibility, loyalty and commitment are dreaded words in today’s freelance culture. These traits are in fact, in very short supply. The notion that our worthiness is dependant and commensurate with our level of dependability and commitment is somehow lost on us.

This week we begin the fourth of the five books that constitute the Pentateuch – Bamidbar, also known as the Book of Numbers. Though the Hebrew word Bamidbar means in the desert, the name Numbers appears to have derived from the fact that the first Parsha (also called Bamidbar) begins with a counting.

Moshe is told to count the entire populace, from twenty and up: “Take a census of the entire assembly of the Children of Israel according to their families, according to their fathers’ household, by number of the names, every male according to their head count. From twenty years of age and up – everyone who goes out to the legion in Israel – you shall count them according to their legions, you and Aharon,” (Numbers 1:2-3).
But what was the purpose of the census? It’s not like they were concerned with civil infrastructure or housing assessments, they were after all living in a desert. Even agricultural calculations were unnecessary, as their food came from Heaven. What possible bearing could the recorded numbers have on any moral issue?

Moreover, this was not the only time that G-d requested for the Children of Israel to be counted. As Rashi points out: “When they went out of Egypt He counted them, and after the sin of the Golden Calf He counted the fallen, to know how many remained. And now, in our portion, He counts them yet again.”

Considering the fact that every word in the Torah is calculated and measured, the reason for the various census and the detailed transmission of the multiple names and numbers seems somewhat mysterious.

At least if the figures were very astounding, it might be interpreted as a matter of national pride. But the statistics themselves are hardly impressive. The Jewish nation has never been legendary for its exceptional numbers. This reality is underscored rather succinctly by G-d Himself: “I have not chosen you because of your great numbers; rather, you are to be the smallest of all nations.” So, to whom does it matter that the tribe of Gad had 45,650 males over twenty or that the tribe of Menashe had 32,200?
The count was obviously not intended to impress anyone in terms of its monolithic quantity, nor was it for socio-economic reasons. The Torah is rather determined to emphasize the importance and inherent value of each and every soul – to impress upon us that each individual can alter the course of history.

It is not the numbers that are of such significance, it is rather the act of being counted. Hence the preoccupation of our Parsha, with the census and all its details. By this the Torah means to underscore the importance of each individual – their unique and indispensable role and potential.
Moreover, the counting itself served as a means of uplifting the people. The very act of being counted assigned each Jew a unique importance and role to play. It endowed each and everyone with a special dignity, significance and a higher Divine awareness. Hence the term: “S’u es rosh Bnai Yisroel – count (literally lift up the heads of) the Children of Israel.

This fundamental idea is reflected in the letters of our national moniker. Our sages assert that the five Hebrew letters that spell the word “Yisroel” are an acronym for the words “Yesh Shishim Ribu Osiyos La‘Torah” – there are six hundred thousand letters in the Torah. The number of souls that comprised the census – “600,000”– is the number of letters which comprise the Torah.
What is the correlation between the original Jewish population and the letters of the Torah? The answer, say the Rabbis, is that just as a Torah scroll is rendered invalid if even a single letter is missing or incomplete, so too is every Jew vital to the wholeness and validity of the Jewish nation.
Accordingly, the Torah’s emphasis on the importance of counting each and every member of our nation is to teach us that each individual counts! He or she is unique; different from all others, with a distinctive function and distinctive contribution to make. But that’s not all.

The census further emphasized the fact that each individual is a critical component of a larger whole – a larger family, tribe and nation that depend upon him or her; that are incomplete without him or her! It underscores the fact that we have varying levels of “responsibility” toward each of these units, which comprise our larger Jewish community.

Our responsibility towards each other and towards the greater whole is a cardinal principle of Jewish belief and practice. It is arguably the secret weapon that kept us and sustained us throughout this long and arduous exile.

As we approach the holiday of Shavuos, when the nation of Israel was encamped at the foot of the mountain “Like one person with one heart,” may we strengthen and reaffirm our commitment and responsibility towards one another and our greater whole. This will certainly hasten the coming of the righteous Moshiach. May it be speedily in our time.