DISCOVERING TORAH

IN MY PREVIOUS COLUMN, I DISCUSSED THE idea of counting within the Jewish tradition. I focussed on the lessons of the Omer count (sefirat haOmer), the day-byday enumeration in which Jews are involved for 49 days, from the second night of Passover to the holiday of Shavuot.

Counting, I noted, is a humdrum act but not one lacking in significance.

But what about the numbers themselves in Jewish tradition?

Next Shabbat (May 31) we begin reading the Book of Numbers, which begins with a census of the Jewish people. Why, one might ask, does Judaism seem so obsessed with the quantitative at the expense of the qualitative?

You've got to light eight candles on Chanukah; drink four cups of wine on Passover; a baby is circumcised on the eighth day (health permitting); 10 men are needed for a minyan (prayer quorum) - the list goes on and on.

Why does everything in Judaism seem to revolve around sterile numbers? Doesn't it take the whole spirit out of Judaism, when we always have to focus on quantity instead of quality?

LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE concept of a minyan. I've often heard people say that they don't understand why they have to pray with a minyan, since they feel that it limits their ability to go at their own pace and truly connect in their own unique way - something which can be very difficult to do when forced to pray with others in a way and at a pace which is not necessarily comfortable or conducive to the feeling of the moment. Let me share two statements of our Sages that will shed light on what some see as an obsession with numbers.

The first is by one of the great Kabbalists, Rabbi Chaim Yosef David Azoulay, known after the initials of his name as the CHIDA, who was born in Jerusalem and 1724 and died in 1807 in Italy.

The CHIDA explained that the Hebrew word for community, tzibur, mas, is an acronym for tzaddik (righteous), beinoni (intermediate), and rasha (wicked).

Thus, explains the CHIDA, a true community (in the case of prayer, a minyan) is made up of all types of people from different backgrounds and current beliefs and standards.

It is specifically through the coming together of these different types of people, that we become a tzibur, a community.

The second teaching is by another great Kabbalist, this one of an earlier generation, Rabbi Moshe Cordovero (b. 1522, d. 1570 Tzfat). Like the CHIDA, he is known by an acronym of his name, RAMAK.

The RAMAK teaches that the Hebrew word for number, mispar, has alternate meanings, all stemming from the same root.

One is sippur (story); another is sapir (a sapphire stone, which shines.

THUS NUMBERS - WHICH at first glance appear sterile and banal - are actually the bearers of a story which shines.

In our context, the story is that of our history and our heritage. And it definitely shines.

The numbers tell us a story of spirituality. Each number has within it deep and profound meaning.

For example: the eight lights of Chanukah. This number actually reveals the true nature of the holiday.

How? The number seven, as in the seven days of the week, represents the natural order. One number more - eight - and nature is transcended.

Chanukah, therefore, is a holiday which transcends the natural order, as indicated in its miraculous nature.

In Judaism, we are so taken with numbers specifically because they are sterile.

In that cold and calculating world of numbers, we tell a story that makes them shine.

It is the story of our heritage and of our souls.

[Sidebar]

THE COLD, CALCULATING WORLD OF NUMBERS

What is it with numbers and Judaism? Constantly enumerating, as we see in the Torah reading of Bamidbar (Numbers).

And to what end? Citing the CHIDA and RAMAK, Shaul Wertheimer finds that the numbers do compute: they reveal a story which shines.

[Sidebar]

Numbers tell a story of spirituality

[Sidebar]

Numbers 1:1 - 4:20 Shabbat, May 31

[Author Affiliation]

By SHAUL E. WERTHEIMER

TORAH COLUMNIST