Sefer Bamidbar is a book of missed opportunities. Mistake after mistake – by the people and the leaders – demonstrated that the generation that left Egypt was incapable of being the one to conquer the Land of Israel. While sad and even tragic, this was not unexpected. It is not really possible to take a people who have been enslaved for hundreds of years, with no knowledge of G-d, to become “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation”, conquer the land and set up a society that would be a model for the world.
Mistakes are part of being human, something the Torah recognizes in so many ways and so many times. We even have two holidays devoted to the theme of learning from our mistakes and our tradition urges us to spend no less than forty days a year focusing on the mitzva of teshuva, of looking for ways to improve.
One of the key requirements for an effective and proper teshuva is vidui, admitting that one has done wrong. Unless one admits to oneself – and at times publicly[1] – that they have sinned, teshuva just won’t work. Rather surprisingly, the mitzva of vidui appears in the Torah reading of this week.
“When a man or a woman commits mikol chatat ha’adam, any of the sins of man, acting treacherously against the Lord, that person is guilty” (Bamidbar 5:6). The Torah does not tell us what sin it is referring to. On the one hand it could be any sin, mikol, from any chatat ha’adam. And it is true that each and every sin requires vidui. Whatever sin we may have committed we must acknowledge it and resolve to do better. On the other hand the use of the word kol, all, implies this sin is so great it is equated to all other sins.
The Torah continues telling us, “They shall confess the sins which they committed and return the principal amount [of the object] of his guilt and add one fifth to that amount. He shall then give it to whom he is indebted” (Bamidbar 5:7). The particular sin that one must confess is that of theft. Our Sages, for good reason, teach that it was due to the sin of theft that the fate of the generation of the flood was sealed. They did many terrible sins - including sexual immorality and idolatry. But as long as they respected the property of one another they were not doomed to die. Our Sages go so far as to teach that much of their thievery was for trivial amounts, amounts that may not be recoverable in court and people easily justify to themselves. It is specifically those sins which are easily justifiable that one must confess to.
Our Sages go one step further in explaining the verse above. It is not just referring to any theft but to theft from a ger, a stranger or convert. It is taking advantage of the most vulnerable that makes this a particularly egregious sin, one that is mikol chatat ha’adam, all the sins of man. Stealing from a ger means one has learned nothing from the years of slavery and G-d’s redemption of the Jewish people. Over and over and over again – somewhere between 36 and 46 times (Bava Metzia 59b) – the Torah reminds us, urges us, commands us, to treat the ger with extra sensitivity because we were gerim in the land of Egypt. It is precisely because gerim are so easy to take advantage of that we dare not do so.
This law is immediately followed by the tragic story of the Sotah, where a man accuses his wife – not without some basis – of being unfaithful. One of the fascinating features of this law is the many opportunities for the woman to confess her sin and hence avoid any punishment. G-d can and is eager to forgive even the gravest of sins, but man must first be willing to admit their wrongdoing.
Immediately prior to this law of stealing from a ger the Torah discusses those who were to be sent away from the “camp”. When one is isolated from the community one may no longer feel a sense responsibility to that community. Even if there be good reason someone is sent away, and especially here[2] when one has done no wrong, it is imperative that isolation not mean rejection. The community must work that much harder to ensure that those who feel marginalized – like the ger – are made to feel very much welcome.
The parsha ends with a most beautiful display of community unity. In 89 long (and dare I say somewhat boring) verses the Torah repeats itself 12 times, listing the gifts each of the twelve tribal leaders brought upon the dedication of the Mishkan What is amazing is no one tried to outdo the other. Each one of the later leaders could have brought just a bit more – to stand out from the rest. But there was no desire for personal glory, only for community building. Let us learn to emulate them.
[1] Such is required when one sins against another person. Sins between man and G-d, however, should not be publicly revealed. How sad that so many do the exact opposite.
[2] The Torah here is referring to those who came in contact with death and those with certain bodily emissions. In the former case it is even a mitzva to make oneself impure despite the fact that one be excluded from certain communal activities, for example the korban Pesach.
