Ten Ways the Community Becomes Healthy

The midrashim go into even greater detail in this week’s portion in discussing what makes for a truly healthy community.

Let’s look.

First, there’s a strong sense that a healthy community is, and must remain, one that is holy. 

For this reason, we must overcome the moral/spiritual challenges we discussed in recent blogs that give rise to spiritual diseases of various sorts. They can corrode and weaken the community and its members.

Second, and similarly, while we must hold people accountable for wrongdoing, we must be open to forgiving them and welcoming their return through the process of teshuvah. These are the twin features of justice and mercy that characterize a healthy community.

“Teshuvah is comprised of three main parts: 1) sincere regret for one’s past misconduct, 2) oral confession thereof, and 3) firm decisions never to repeat it.”

Third, the consequences for wrongdoing also often include an additional payment, such as an extra fifth in the case of theft, both to deter further wrongdoing and compensate the person who’s been damaged.

Fourth, in ancient times, the people were dutybound to pay dues for the Levites and the Kohanim. I see this as akin to our ongoing requirement to support those who operate (what serves for us as) sacred space, where we worship, experience Divine encounter, and dedicate ourselves to serving God.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

Fifth, while the terms of it are very different than what they would be in our time, the principle is the same: a healthy community requires marriages in which there’s a fidelity between both partners, both husband and wife.

“A married couple can and must strive for peace in the home.” Put another way, “the Shechinah can reside only in a home where the family members think, speak, and act with kedusha (holiness).”

Sixth, our tradition permitted a person who desired to withdraw from the world and abstain from material realities for a period to do so by becoming a nazir. This could be done by refraining from drinking wine, grooming oneself by cutting one’s hair, and encountering the dead. 

While even a temporary withdrawal from society would most certainly take a different form today, it may be beneficial for the community for individuals to have opportunities occasionally to isolate themselves in similar ways. 

Though it was not a favored practice in the past, and it may not be one today either, purposeful and temporary withdrawal from the world for certain individuals may be what’s needed for them to help effect self-improvement or change in the world.

Seventh, it’s significant to note that the princes of the ancient tribes wanted to make rich donations to mark the consecration of the altar in the Mishkan. This liberal generosity toward the shared sacred space is very special and was surely a sign of the spiritual health of the community. 

Interestingly, “all twelve donations were identical in number, weight, and measurements.” This made sure that “each donation was equally beloved in God’s eyes.” Yet, “the thoughts and intentions accompanying each offering differed widely.” And, thus, “the reasons and reflections behind them differed,” and the gifts were able to be special, too.

Notwithstanding these donations, leaders could both teach the community and leave a legacy through their own discrete actions and gifts. As R. Meir taught, and eighth, there’s value in each of our names, especially when our good deeds reflect the character inherent in them.

The net effect of all the gifts of the princes? More broadly, it’s in how they (and we) can make a difference through living in the manner God desires. 

Ninth, the midrashim focus on a remarkable practice we find in this portion, that of the bestowing on the people of the priestly blessing.

The people come to sacred space to bring their offerings, and, in return, the priests send the people away from their daytime prayers with God’s blessing.

The receipt of this blessing may be among the most important gifts bestowed upon members of any healthy community – whether in ancient times or ours.

In one respect the blessing is so rich, we’re taught, it’s that each of us “grows to become like the forefathers.”

Another reading has it that God blesses us with success and guards us against loss by thieves.

Or, more profoundly, the person blessed is protected against the evil inclination leading him away from Torah and mitzvot. 

At its deepest level, the blessing may be first for the material, then the spiritual, and finally, with God causing His countenance to shine upon us, that there be a closeness to God, an attachment that comes in God’s grace, one that leads to peace.

Tenth, all this has the effect of restoring to the midst of the people the Shechinah, which had departed from them after the sin of the golden calf. God’s ongoing presence is surely the greatest sign of a community’s health.

Pretty amazing, huh?

Leave a comment