Two Days or a Month or a Year

“Whether it was two days or a month or a year—however long the cloud lingered over the Mishkan—the Israelites remained encamped and did not set out; only when it lifted did they break camp.” (Bamidbar 9:22)

What a strange way to wander - wait for a cloud to lift, and then move! See the cloud settle down, and then set yourself down for however long it lasts. What did it feel like to have so little agency over the rhythm of travel? Were some people itching to leave and feeling stuck when the cloud lingered? Were others just starting to feel stability again when the cloud lifted and change beckoned once more?

Malbim (1809-1879) comments on why the verse mentions two days: “So then they could finish setting up their tents. They would have been annoyed by troubling themselves to erect and [then immediately] break down their tents for a one-day stay.”

I’m charmed by Malbim’s confidence that a two-day encampment was logistically and psychologically easier than a one-day encampment. But it seems to me to highlight how destabilizing it must have felt to create a home knowing you could be moving out scant days later, or months or years later. To live each day embedded within impermanence… 

This reminds me of a classic story told about the Chofetz Chaim (1838-1933) who lived in the Polish town of Radin. Once a wealthy merchant was in the area and decided to honor the great sage with a visit. But when he entered this famous rabbi’s home, he was astonished to see it practically unfurnished and asked, “Where is your furniture?” But the Chofetz Chaim responded by asking him where was his furniture! The merchant explained that he was only passing through. And then the Chofetz Chaim explained that he too, was only passing through…

Live fully, but lightly. Life is a journey, home after home after home after home.

Malbim continues with a comment on a month: “In this case, imagine other complaints! If the place was favorable in their eyes, they would want to delay there for many days and would have been annoyed by traveling. Or if they could have been staying there a year, then imagine that they didn’t think the place was good and would have been annoyed to be stuck there for a full year.”

This intermediate type of stay either serves to prolong something enjoyable or to release them from being stuck even longer in an unpleasant situation. 

Here I think of childhood stages. Some days, I find myself impatient for my kids to grow out of whatever is feeling particularly challenging. Other days, I hold them tight as if a physical hug could pause the constant wiggling dance of change, so that I could savor this particular joy a moment longer before it fades into a memory. So much of a child’s development is invisible to us - until it isn’t. As if a cloud rests over whatever holy space inside them and then suddenly lifts, and now they can talk, and now they can make jokes, and now they wrestle with anxiety for the first time, and now they take on new responsibilities. 

A child is something else again. Wakes up

in the afternoon and in an instant he's full of words,

in an instant he's humming, in an instant warm,

instant light, instant darkness.

(Yehuda Amichai)

And of course, this isn’t just about kids, but also our parents and friends and pets, and our own capabilities at any given moment in life. We have what we have, we are who we are, for longer than a moment, and shorter than eternity. How do we hold tight and release wisely and gracefully?

For Malbim, the full year signifies the commitment of the Israelites to be present to the divine vitality in their midst. Whether they liked where they were or not, whether they yearned to linger or chafed at feeling struck, ultimately they paid close attention to that cloud over the holy space and followed its unpredictable signals to rest or to act. Because what was constant was the divine vitality in their midst. 

If you are feeling the weight of being stuck, may you find some release this Shabbat.

If you are overwhelmed by the pace of change, may you find some stabilizing rest this Shabbat.

For however long you have been part of the wider Kavana community, whether two days, a month, a year, or longer, let’s continue the journey together.

Shabbat shalom!

Rabbi Jay LeVine