So much has been written
about Jewish unity. How do we get there? Perhaps if we examine a
midrash more deeply, we might gain a few insights.
Thanks, in part, to Rashi,
it is one of the most well known midrashim. As Bnei Yisrael get to
Har Sinai, the pasuk says וַיִּסְע֣וּ
מֵֽרְפִידִ֗ים וַיָּבֹ֨אוּ֙ מִדְבַּ֣ר
סִינַ֔י וַֽיַּֽחֲנ֖וּ בַּמִּדְבָּ֑ר
וַיִּֽחַן־ שָׁ֥ם יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל נֶ֥גֶד
הָהָֽר – "And
they travelled from Rephidim and they came to the Sinai Desert, and
they camped in the desert, and they camped there, facing the
mountain".
Commenting
on the fact that the second time it mentions Bnei Yisrael camping, it
uses the term וַיִּֽחַן,
which is singular, the midrash explains that this refers to their
level of unity, כּאיש
אחד בּלב אחד "Like
one man, with one heart". Why does the midrash have to say the
words "with one heart"? If they were like "one man",
is it not obvious that it was like they had "one heart"?
Actually,
it is not. In a mishna in Berachos the words בּכל
לבבך are
understood to mean that you should love God with both of your hearts,
the yetzer hatov and the yetzer hara. We have competing drives. We
sometimes behave with duplicity. We are pulled in two very different
directions. Ordinarily, the best we can hope for is to channel it all
into the service of God. Somehow, by Har Sinai, our two hearts became
one. How did that happen?
In
Jewish thought, God is described as a יושב,
one who stays put, and does not change (as an extension, only a king
from the house of David may sit in the Beis HaMikdash). Angels are
called עומדים,
creatures who stand, who have only one leg (we imitate this each time
we say the amidah). They do not change, but are, of course, less
permanent than God. Man is a הולך
one
who moves. While we sometimes move in the right direction, often we
do not. We are constantly moving, striving, changing. While this
movement is necessary, it comes with a cost. We can be at odds with
ourselves. Certainly, one who has an internal civil war, can not
easily love another person. We often work against each other, seeing
success as a zero sum game, where another's success comes at a cost
to me. It is during the six days of the week during which we strive,
that we often strive against one another. Shabbos gives us a chance
to rest, to be at peace. When Bnei Yisrael camped at Har Sinai, they
too came to rest. They were no longer going somewhere. They had
arrived. They could camp and rest.
By
camping around Har Sinai, they had a common focal point (Rav Tzadok
explains the idea of tzaddikim in olam haba encircling the shecina as
suggesting equal value before God). God and His Torah became the
unifying factor for all of them. While each person had all sorts of
physical, emotional and personal differences, before God, they were
equal. While there were 12 shevatim, composed of millions of people,
they became more than one nation. They became one person, with one
common heart.
As
we again receive the Torah, may we be mekabel it with love, and again
join together with one heart. Chag Sameach.
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