Parshas Bamidbar / Shavuos 5782
“This baby’s ready to come out.”
These words are often uttered by expectant mothers approaching—or surpassing—their due dates. And while it may be nothing more than a bit of projection—It’s not the baby at all, but the mother who’s ready—perhaps the mother’s on to something. Maybe the baby really is ready to live life the way it was meant to be lived.
The Chovos HaLevavos dedicates an entire section of the sefer to what he calls the “Sha’ar HaBechinah,” or “The Gate of Discernment.” In this section, the obligation to discern and discover Hashem’s wisdom by studying the world around us is outlined and explained. In a particularly beautiful passage, the Chovos HaLevavos describes the miracle of a fetus developing in its mother’s womb:
At the beginning of a human being’s existence, the Creator appointed the mother’s body to serve as a crib for the fetus so that it might abide in a safe place, a strongly guarded fortress, as it were, where no hand can touch it, where it cannot be affected by heat or cold, but is shielded and sheltered and where its food is ready for it. Here it continues to grow and develop, even becomes capable of moving and turning, and receives its nourishment without any effort or exertion. This nourishment is provided for it in a place where no one else can in any way reach it, and is increased as the fetus develops until a definite period.
Chovos HaLevavos, Gate of Discernment, Chapter 5
In recently studying these words, I was struck not only by the reframing of fetal development as being miraculous, but also by how familiar each of these miracles feels from an entirely different context altogether. Indeed, each detail is not only a benefit received by the infant child prior to birth, but also served as benefits to the new nation as it crossed through the Midbar.
The Ananei HaKavod, or Clouds of Glory, served to protect the nation from foreign enemies, absorbing arrows and other projectiles that may have been fired in its direction. The Clouds also maintained a climate-controlled environment, keeping the Jews comfortable as they traversed the rough terrain. Moreover, Chazal describe how the terrain ultimately wasn’t that rough at all, the Clouds leveling the ground as they traveled, not unlike the built-in shock absorption the baby enjoys while floating in a liquid bath inside the womb. Finally, just as a baby is supplied nutrition from the mother without any effort demanded of it, the nation enjoyed similar treatment in its own infancy, as food literally rained down from heaven without the need for struggle or toil.
The experience in the Midbar was one in which Hashem didn’t only care for the Jewish People. He saw them as a fetus in a stage of embryonic development, and treated them accordingly. And without a doubt, it was all necessary. Making the transition to a life of monotheism, Torah, and halacha is no easy one and demanded an intense dose of Hashem’s care and Presence in order to give the Jewish People a fresh start.
Looking back at that period, it can be tempting to let out a wistful sigh. “Halevai.” If only we had it so good and so easy. If only life was so simple and straightforward. If only we lived at the intersection between the desolation of the Midbar and Hashem’s open miracles, with someone else paying for clothes, food, and the utility bill, and with foreign influences and pressures being kept at bay, we’d also thrive in our Torah learning and observance.
Maybe. But, at some point, this baby’s ready to come out. The miraculous Midbar experience directly mimicked the experience of being in the womb, both to provide the developing nation with what it needed in that generation, but also to state clearly that things can’t go on like this.
Nine months in the womb is only a preparatory phase, a training ground. It’s the closed course where a driver can first lay hands on the steering wheel and a foot on the pedals. But winning a trophy means getting out on the racetrack and stacking it with other talented drivers. Parents love their child immediately upon birth, but pride is something that comes much later. Achievement is what comes about from navigating life’s challenges, not getting a free pass on them all. Nobody would suggest that the womb is where the child ought to stay, despite the innate perils of entering the real world.
This, too, is our reality as a nation. Bamidbar precedes Shavuos each year to remind us that “Bamidbar”—it was in the Wilderness that Torah was first given and observed. And while the attendant miracles necessary to make a go of that environment seem awfully enticing, a Jew’s triumph comes in exhibiting dedication in the face of adversity, in keeping Shabbos when the pressures to bill more hours are quite real, to learn Torah when society views its values as archaic, to seal our lips from juicy gossip when social media beckons us to do the opposite.
A Midbar is a controlled environment, necessary for an initial training period, but not fertile ground for growth and development, for long-term success and achievement. A miraculous midbar is comfortable, but it’s not where we’re meant to be. We have much more to offer, much more to impact. We’re the baby ready to come out, to live life the way it was meant to be lived, to succeed in our role as the Chosen Nation specifically as life provides obstacles that must be overcome.