This evening I caught a firefly outside my parents’ home in suburban Chicago. I saw my first firefly of the season last Thursday, June 22nd, which is a bit early for the season, but I could not catch it. Tonight I finally caught one and watched it glow. This has been a midsummer fascination of mine since I was a child, and it continues to delight me.
I tried to get a photo of the flash (which I sort of did). The problem is that fireflies tend to glow less often when you hold them, and they try to climb to the high point of your hand to fly away, so you have to keep curling your fingers around of knocking them gently back into your palm.
I took a photo of the firefly with the iPhone Live function, which lets you capture images over a period of time. I happened to get my wedding ring in the frame — perfect. I then let the firefly in the photograph go, and I tried with another. It would not glow for me and I think I may have hurt it by knocking it too hard into my palm.
I felt quite sad about that. I’m not a child; I should have the self-control not to harm a firefly. I don’t want to be too dramatic about it, but I felt I had injured a symbol of love by trying to use it, trying to make it conform to my own imagination. Real love is like that, too: it’s fragile and you have to respect that, while also letting it be what you want it to be.
This week'd portion begins the book of Numbers. Interestingly, the Hebrew name for the book is "In the Desert," not "Numbers." The portion, which happens to be my bar mitzvah portion, focuses almost as much on the names of the princes of each tribe as the number of soldiers it fielded. It also focuses on the configuration of the tribal camps around the central Tabernacle and the Levites.
So why "Numbers" instead of "Names" or "Places"? The numbers are, to be sure, a unique feature of the opening of this Biblical book -- but they are not the focus of the rest of the narrative. The Hebrew focuses on the place where the events in the book take place, because essentially this is the narrative of the Israelites' wanderings from Egypt to Israel, across 40 years. We move from the giving of the Torah and the construction of the Tabernacle in Exodus and Leviticus, to the final valediction of Moses in Deuteronomy -- Bamidbar is the story of wandering that happened in between.
The question of ...
This week's portion begins with the laws of the Sabbath and the Sabbatical year, and the Jubilee year that restores all land to its original (tribal) owners. It also explores laws of property and labor that will apply in the Land of Israel, and the laws of vows and inheritance.
The Israelites are presented -- not for the last time -- with the essential moral choice that they must face, and the rewards for choosing well, along with the consequences for choosing poorly.
We learn that doing good things will earn God's protection from enemies. That does not mean that victims of terror, God forbid, were sinful. But it does mean that we can respond to evil by committing ourselves to a higher path.
This week's portion describes the major sacrifices that are to be offered by the Jewish people, including those that are offered only by the priestly Kohen class, and physical requirements of the people (men) who serve in that role.
Inter alia, there are interesting commandments -- such as an injection to treat animals with respect and care, first, by letting a mother animal nurse her offspring for a week before being offered in any sacrifice; and second, by refraining from slaughtering an animal and its offspring on the same day.
The commandments regarding animals remind us of the purpose of those regarding human beings: to uphold a divine connection, through ritual.
https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/111878/jewish/Rabbi-Isaac-Luria-The-Ari-Hakodosh.htm
