I. Is this How the Journey Begins?
The journey begins, and the people of Israel set out toward the Promised Land. Between them and their destination lies a desert whose passage demands tremendous inner strength.
Throughout the book, we will journey alongside the people of Israel, through the crises and upheavals that they will face in that barren land. We will accompany them along the difficult path that they apparently must traverse in order to inherit the land.
Yet already at the beginning of the book, we may experience a certain disappointment. The Torah devotes the first four chapters (which make up our parasha[1]) to matters that appear technical:
a. C hapter 1: Census of the people of Israel.
b. Chapter 2: Structure of the camp.
c. Chapter 3: Census of the Levites.
d. Chapter 4: Division of labor among the Levite families in carrying the Mishkan.
Why is it necessary to present so much dry data and such detailed descriptions of the camp’s arrangement and the Levites' duties? How is the holiness of every word in the Torah expressed when the chapters are filled with statistics and technical details?
In fact, the parasha gives the impression of deliberate lengthiness in places where it seems the text could have been shortened. For example, chapter 1 opens with a list of the leaders (nesi’im) of each tribe (vv. 5–16), followed by the census of each tribe in a repeated formula:
Of the children of _____ (Reuven/Shimon/etc.)
their generations, by their families, by their fathers' houses, according to the number of names, head by head, every male from twenty years old and upward, all who [can] go out to war;
their numbers, of the tribe of _____: ______ (the number of the tribe).
Chapter 2 then describes the arrangement of the camp, also structured by a repetitive pattern:
The tribe of ____;
And the nasi of the children of ___ – ____,
and its/their troop, and its/their numbers, ____.
This seems like unnecessary repetition of known details: the names of the leaders already listed in chapter 1 are repeated, as are the numbers that were already given in the census.
In addition, the camp is described as having three tribes on each side. For each side, the tribes and their numbers are listed, then the total number for that side is calculated (e.g., "All that were numbered of the camp of Yehuda [were] a hundred thousand and eighty thousand and six thousand and four hundred, according to their troops" – 2:9), and finally the overall total is given (2:32). These totals seem unnecessary, since any reader could calculate it for himself.
It is hard not to imagine a far more concise framework for the first two chapters, something like this:
The nasi of the sons of ____ is ____.
Their number is ____.
Their location in the camp is ____.
The Torah could have condensed the roughly eighty verses of chapters 1–2 into twelve verses – one for each tribe.
The sense of excessive wordiness continues in the next two chapters, which deal with the Levites. Chapter 3 counts the Levites from the age of one month and describes in general terms how each Levite family will participate in carrying the Mishkan. Chapter 4 again lists the Levites’ duties – this time in greater detail – and counts those aged thirty to fifty, who actually carry the Mishkan. Here too, the text seems excessively long and could have been considerably shortened.
II. The Purpose of the Census
To understand the need for such length and degree of detail, we must first address a more fundamental question: What is the purpose of the census in our parasha?
The Rashbam maintains that it is a military census, in preparation for the imminent conquest of the land:
Since from this point on the Israelites were headed for the Land of Israel, and all males over the age of twenty were fit for army service… therefore, God commanded at the beginning of this month to count them. (Rashbam, 1:2)
Rashi, on the other hand, gives a completely different reason for the census:
Because of His love for them, He counts them at every moment… When He came to rest His Shekhina upon them, He counted them.[2](Rashi, 1:1, from Bamidbar Rabba 2, 19)
The difference between these interpretations is significant. The Rashbam assigns a practical, functional purpose to the census, while Rashi takes the opposite approach: the census has no practical purpose; it arises from God’s affection for Israel, awakened by the intimacy created through the resting of the Shekhina in the Mishkan. It is precisely the lack of a practical purpose that makes the census an expression of God's love for His people: "Because of His love for them, He counts them." If there were a practical goal, it could not be seen as an act of love.
Rashbam’s functional approach casts the parasha in a practical, utilitarian light, while Rashi’s relational approach creates a more emotional, celebratory atmosphere. The census becomes a kind of ceremony performed as part of the resting of the Shekhina; God surveys His people, looking upon each individual and counting each one out of simple affection.
At first glance, the Rashbam's interpretation is quite persuasive, considering which people are counted in the census – males over the age of twenty, referred to as "all who [can] go out to war" (see 1:3). Rashi's interpretation seems a bit homiletic, as he tries to give an emotional-intimate dimension to a census that appears to be simply a technical, statistical activity.
However, the command regarding the census includes three interesting expressions that may actually support Rashi’s approach:
Take the sum (literally, “lift up the heads”) of all the congregation of the children of Israel, by their families, by their fathers' houses, by the number of names, every male, head by head; from twenty years old and upward, all who [can] go out to war in Israel, you shall number them by their troops – you and Aharon. (1:2-3)
The use of the three bolded expressions – "lift up the heads," "names," and "you shall number" – is hard to understand within a purely functional military procedure.
We will clarify this further by examining the first two expressions more deeply.
III. The Unusual Expressions
1. "Lift up the heads" (se’u et rosh)
This expression appears in two places in the Bible in the context of raising a person's status. First, Yosef says to the chief cupbearer: "Within three days, Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your office" (Bereishit 40:13). Similarly, the release of Yehoyakhin from the Babylonian prison by King Evil‑Merodakh, and his elevation above other rulers, is described as follows:
And it came to pass in the thirty-seventh year of the captivity of Yehoyakhin king of Yehuda, in the twelfth month, on the twenty-seventh day of the month, that Evil-Merodakh king of Babylon, in the year of [the beginning of] his reign, lifted up the head of Yehoyakhin king of Yehuda out of prison. And he spoke kindly to him, and set his throne above the throne of the kings that were with him in Babylon. (II Melakhim 25:27-28)
"Lifting up the head" expresses a positive attitude on the part of one in authority, who elevates another person from a lower position to a higher place, closer to him. This is the case with both Pharaoh and Evil Merodakh, who (re)installed prisoners into their royal courts, and so too God, in relation to the people of Israel who are now in His palace, the Mishkan.[3]
The head of every individual is "lifted" up during the census, for each person is counted before God. This expression resonates with the Priestly Blessing, which appears in the next parasha after the censuses conclude: "May the Lord lift up His face toward you" (Bamidbar 6:26). God’s lifting up of His face, which began with the command to count, reaches its climax in the Priestly Blessing.
2. "According to the number of names" (be-mispar sheimot)
In a functional-military census, each soldier is treated as a number, contributing to the total strength of the army. The individual personality loses its importance, and even his personal name is irrelevant. This is evident in the census conducted by David at the end of II Shemuel. David commands Yoav to count the people, and the only thing that interests him is the final number:
And number the people, that I may know the sum of the people. (II Shemuel 24:2)
Accordingly, after traveling throughout the land, Yoav returns with a single final number:
And Yoav gave the sum of the numbering of the people to the king; and Yisrael [were] eight hundred thousand valiant swordsmen; and the men of Yehuda, five hundred thousand men. (ibid. 24:9)
This is clearly a military census, since only “valiant swordsmen" were counted. Accordingly, there is no mention of counting by name. Yoav reports only the total, because the names of the individuals behind the numbers are irrelevant. Likewise, the respectful expression "lifting up the head," which appears in our parasha, is absent there; David simply wants to "count" the people (ibid. 24:1).
In our parasha, on the other hand, the Torah explicitly commands that the people be counted "according to the number of names." That is, to gather the names of each and every Israelite. Moreover, the census must take into account "their families" and "their fathers' houses" (1:2) – i.e., the familial context from which each person comes. The emphasis on names transforms the census into a process of personal recognition, clearly deviating from a functional military purpose. The Seforno describes this beautifully:
"According to the number of names" – For it was then [that] each individual of that generation was regarded by his name, which indicates his personal essence, due to their exalted status – like "I have known you by name." (Seforno, 1:2)
The last line of Seforno’s comment refers us to the dialogue between Moshe and God after the sin of the golden calf. There, God ultimately agrees to restore His Shekhina to Israel because of His closeness to Moshe, which is expressed in the phrase "I have known you by name" (Shemot 33:12; see also ibid., 16-17).[4] If it was only Moshe who was "known by name" in Shemot, now – after the Shekhina has rested upon the people and as they prepare to enter the Promised Land – it is time for all Israel to be counted before God by their names.
In light of this, we can understand the great length of the lists and descriptions in the parasha. It is, of course, impossible to list the names of every Israelite, but in what it does include, the text conveys a sense of personal attention, at least at the tribal level. The names of the tribal leaders are listed in a separate passage at the beginning of the book (1:5–16), even though this is functionally unnecessary. That passage also begins with an emphasis on names: "These are the names of the men who shall stand with you" (1:5).
Furthermore, each tribe receives its own dedicated section of verses, despite the resulting length. The repeated formula – "and the children of… their generations, by their families, by their fathers' houses, according to the number of names" – expresses the personal and significant place given to each tribe. With this understanding, the chapter can be read almost as a ceremonial song, which repeats itself again and again and, in this way, exalts the place of each tribe in Israel, with their names, before God.
The questions we raised at the outset regarding the length of the parasha resolve themselves once we view the census as a moment of encounter between God and His people. Brevity is required only from a functional perspective, where the task is primary and the counting is merely a means. But if the census is understood as an encounter and an expression of closeness, then the length is appropriate, for it allows space to acknowledge each individual and each tribe of Israel.[5]
One may compare this to two types of group gatherings: A group that meets only to complete a task will try to minimize the time spent together, since the task is the main point. By contrast, a group that meets out of love among its members sees the meeting itself as the purpose, and therefore seeks to prolong it as much as possible. There is no doubt that the census‑encounter in our parasha belongs to the second category.[6]
IV. The Person and the Function
Thus far, I have presented the two approaches to taking a census as opposing perspectives. Yet it may be that both are present in the parasha. As we have shown, the census itself clearly cannot be reduced to a purely functional purpose. However, we cannot ignore that there are also functional elements throughout the parasha, related to the order of the camp and the arrangements for the journey. Thus, the picture seems more complex: the parasha integrates the two dimensions. But in this context, we should consider how the various aspects are combined.
As noted, chapters 1-2 deal with the census of the Israelites, while chapters 3-4 deal with the census of the Levites. There is a structural parallel between the two censuses: With each one, the first chapter focuses on the census itself, which, as we have seen, has intrinsic value. The second chapter presents a "division of labor": for Israel, the arrangement of the camp and the arrangements for the journey; for the Levites, the arrangements for carrying the Mishkan. It seems that the Torah deliberately separates the census – which stands on its own (chapter 1 for Israel, chapter 3 for the Levites) – from the functional organization of the camp (chapter 2 for Israel, chapter 4 for the Levites). As noted earlier, it would have been easy to combine the two: to list the number of each tribe and immediately state its role in the journey. But it turns out that the separation of the chapters carries deep significance.
One can view a person as the sum of all his actions, or as possessing inherent worth beyond them. The first perspective sees a human being as a function, behaving in certain ways. This is, for example, the mindset of statistical research in the social sciences, or of a manager who sees employees through the practical lens of the organization. In contrast, the second perspective sees a person’s existence as having value in itself, independent of the functions he performs.
These two perspectives complement each other, but the proper order in which one views others and oneself is crucial. The parasha teaches us not to skimp on time or verses: First, one must see each individual Israelite by name,even before he fulfills a particular function; one’s gaze must "lift his head," valuing his very existence. Only afterward can we begin to see the nation as a collection of individuals to be organized according to practical needs.
(Translated by David Strauss; edited by Sarah Rudolph)
[1] The parasha ends in the middle of chapter 4, after describing the duties of the Kehat family and before describing the duties of the Gershon and Merari families. Ending the parasha at this point, in the middle of a subject, is puzzling and requires study. The division of these chapters, however, is appropriate and organizes the various topics well.
[2] The census takes place in the second year after the exodus from Egypt, on the first of Iyar, exactly one month after the construction of the Mishkan. Therefore, Rashi connects it to the resting of the Shekhina.
[3] The two places in the Bible where this expression ("lifting the head") appears are in the context of a king releasing a prisoner from jail and elevating him to a higher status. It is possible that the same idea applies here with regard to the "lifting of the heads" of Israel, who have finally emerged from the Egyptian prison and have merited the elevated status of having the Shekhina dwell among them.
[4] The idea of knowing a name as an expression of intimacy appears in several other places in the Bible. For example, in Bereishit 2, when God creates animals for Adam to alleviate his loneliness, the first thing Adam does is give them names (Bereishit 2:19–20). Later, it becomes clear that despite this closeness, Adam still feels lonely, and therefore the woman is created.
We see the opposite case in the story of Manoach and his wife’s encounter with the angel. The angel refuses Manoach’s request to reveal his name, apparently in order to maintain distance between them (Shoftim 13:17–18).
[5] This may also answer a question that has troubled the commentators: Why is the census in our parasha a Divine command, while David’s census is considered a sin? In light of what we have said, the difference between them becomes clear: one is an act of giving space and creating an encounter with each individual among the people; the other views the individual merely as a tool for increasing military strength.
[6] In this context, we must consider the fact that only males over twenty are counted here. As noted, the Rashbam saw this as proof for his view that the census is military in nature, consistent with the phrase in the command: "all who [could] go forth to war" (1:3). However, the Ramban suggests that the phrase "go forth to war" may not bear a military sense like that used in our everyday language: "But it may be that the meaning of the phrase kol yotzei tzava is 'all who go forth to be assembled in the congregation,' because the young men do not take part in such an assembly of the people" (Ramban 1:2).
See also Rabbi Elchanan Samet’s article, Ma Tzorekh Haya be-Minyan ha-Zeh? which raises additional difficulties with the Rashbam’s approach.
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