Beha'alosecha 5772

Parshas Beha’alosecha is a turning point both in the Book of Bamidbar and in the history of our people. The triumphant march to the Land of Israel begins on the twentieth of Iyar – thirteen months after the exodus from Egypt – but within days there is a shift in the mood of the people. Grumbling and complaints bring Divine wrath and dire consequences and ultimately the unique status of Moshe is challenged by a member of his own family. Against this background of discontent and skepticism, the tragic episode of the spies’ mission takes place – as related in next week’s Parsha – and the Children of Israel are condemned to decades of wandering in the desert. These stories describe a slippery slope in which one catastrophe leads to the next; once the chain reaction begins, the disastrous consequences seem inevitable.

The first episode in this series (Bamidbar 11:1-3) is that of the Misonenim. The Hebrew word Onen connotes a person who has suffered a genuine loss; usually the term is applied to one who has suffered the loss of a close relative. A Misonen, however, is a person who has somehow turned himself into an Onen, perhaps by mentally inflating a slight inconvenience into a massive ordeal. In this instance, Rashi explains that they were complaining about the exertion of travel. Keeping in mind that the Jews had been encamped at Sinai for almost a year, we can perhaps sympathize with their finding travel difficult. But apparently they had gone too far and a Divine fire began to consume those at the edge of the camp; only the prayers of Moshe brought relief. In any case, this complaint – despite its being apparently illegitimate – was at least timely; the objection to travel came just as the travel from Sinai began.

In the second episode we have the Asafsuf, who are identified with the Erev Rav – the large number of Egyptian converts who joined the Jews at the exodus – complaining about the Manna. The timing of this complaint is baffling. The Jews had been eating the Manna daily for over a year. Why does the Asafsuf wake up just now? Furthermore, the fact that there is no separation between the two stories in the Sefer Torah seems to indicate a connection between them. Yet, at first glance, that connection is not apparent.

Who were the Misonenim? The simple meaning of the text implies that they were native-born Jews; the Erev Rav is only introduced in the subsequent episode. (Rashi cites two possibilities on this issue.) If this assumption is correct, we can offer a conjecture that will address the problems we raised.

In last week’s Parsha (Bamidbar 5:5-8), we read the law of Gezel HaGer, theft from a convert to Judaism, which raises the intriguing question of how to make restitution in the case where the convert died and left no heirs. (Every native-born Jew would have an heir; any descendent of Avraham Aveinu is distant cousin!) Sforno writes in his commentary that Gezel HaGer is fundamentally worse than theft from a native-born Jew as it disillusions the idealistic convert who has come to take refuge under the wings of the Divine Presence.

We intuitively sense that this observation is correct. Those who have a long association with Judaism and the Jewish community – and are conscious of their own shortcomings – tend to react to others’ offenses with pity and understanding; certainly they are not led to question the validity of the entire Torah system. For the convert this may be very different. If his initial attraction to Judaism is rooted in an overly romanticized view of the Jewish community in which everyone is virtuous and saintly, becoming the victim of a Jewish thief can be a devastating experience.

Whatever troubled the Erev Rav about the Manna should have been apparent months earlier, yet they did not protest for a year. Perhaps they felt that the advantages of joining the Jewish nation more then compensated for the dietary deficiencies. It was axiomatic that truly spiritual people would not be obsessed with their creature comforts and undoubtedly their Jewish role models would not complain about such things. When the Misonenim began to grumble, the Erev Rav’s idealism was shattered. If these native-born Jews don’t feel that being G-d’s chosen people justifies sacrifice, why should we?

The lesson for us is self-evident. On a daily basis we encounter people who could be encouraged to embrace Torah values and lifestyle. The impression we make on that person is of supreme importance. If we convey an impression of happiness and contentedness, he may consider making changes in his own life. Who doesn’t want to be happy and content? But if we convey an impression of being stressed and tormented in our religious lives, that our Torah study and Mitzvah observance give us no satisfaction, we would then be walking advertisements for the secular life.