Sh'lach L'cha: Numbers 13:1-15:41

G-d punished the spies who returned with pessimistic reports, even though they had been shown a land of milk and honey. They saw that the people living there were “giants” and became afraid. In the commentary at our synagogue, I read that many scholars interpret the meaning of “milk and honey” as being a land wherein the populace is able to access the resources of both nomadic lifestyles (honey) and agrarian (milk).

In mulling this over, I wonder if perhaps the fact that the people were “giants” is a reference to inhabitants that were well nourished, without the physical limitations that come with poor nutrition. Maybe the spies were not seeing a race of super-humans, but rather a group of people who had the benefits that come with being able to settle in one place, where they can farm, hunt, and gather the resources they need. The difficulty for the spies was in having the foresight to recognize that they were being shown a vision of their own future- one of peace and plenty. Instead, they saw the strength and fortitude of the people in Canaan and the abundance of fruit (to the point where they needed two men to carry a branch of grapes) and were intimidated. They looked at blessings available in Canaan and saw only weakness and want in themselves. I think THAT is why G-d punished them.

S/he decided that if they did not understand that they were capable of the task that G-d had set before them, that S/he would remove it from them….and, in a classic case of “you get what you ask for”, the tribe would spend 40 years wandering; until the time came when the generation that came out of Egypt, and who still carried within them the slave mentality, had passed away. The land of milk and honey would have to wait for another generation- one who would grow up in the desert, a wandering people strengthened by a lifetime of self-reliance. The literal children of Israel, those who were youngest among the Exodus group and whose memories would not be those of slavery but of survival in the harshest of circumstances….these would be the men and women capable of seeing a land flowing with milk and honey and recognizing that it was possible. That they possessed within themselves what it took to not only be FREE but to be BLESSED.

So, what do I learn from this weeks Torah portion?

My job sucks. I pretty much experience the textbook definition of a “hostile workplace” every day. My direct supervisor is a friend whom I got hired as a temporary, part-time employee last summer. Then, they made her my boss. Because of this, she takes every opportunity to minimize me and generally make me look like an idiot to our Executive Director. Because she knows that she sits at the desk that was supposed to be mine…and as long as I’m there, she’ll see me as a threat. I’m given extra duties, even as she cuts my hours. She yells at me for failing to do things that she never actually gave me to do. My ideas are put down in our meetings…but then presented as her own to the Executive Director. I arrive at work every day, convinced that it will be the day I get fired. I could keep going, but after a certain point it just turns into whining….and besides, at this point I’m sure you’re wondering what this has to do with Torah. As it turns out, a lot.

I’ve fallen into a pattern of complaining (or “venting” as I like to call it). I’m a broken record of workplace woes, and I’ve realized that I’m not entirely sure how to stop. My workplace is just so horribly demeaning that I find myself fixated on the injustice of it all. And while many of my concerns are fully justified, I recognize that harping on them doesn’t make them go away…it just makes me more and more miserable. In other words, I have been like the pessimistic spies: refusing to see the blessings that G-d has put before me, in favor of an attitude of slavery and unworthiness. In her commentary on this Parashat, Sandy Schachter writes:

“There is a Midrash that suggests that God was upset with the spies, not for their own self-perception but for projecting that self-perception onto others:

'I shall forgive them this remark,' said God. But when they said: 'And so we were in their sight,' God asked: 'Did you know how I made you appear in their sight? Who can say that you did not appear in their sight as angels? What have you brought upon yourselves?'

We set ourselves up for failure when we project our insecurities onto others.”
(http://tbsoc.com/torahcommentaries/Shlach_Lcha_DvarTorah.pdf)


My justifiable indignation at the unfairness of my situation has morphed into a self-pitying, self-defeating generalized hopelessness that I seem to be incapable of NOT sharing with every single person I meet. My bosses (both my direct supervisor and our Executive Director) make me so miserable that I find myself spewing out this sorrow and anger and rejection to friends, to family, to the poor soul who happens to say hello to me at Temple. This is particularly sad because generally speaking, I LOVE my job. Most of my co-workers are people I consider to be not just co-workers, but friends. The actual tasks of my job are things that I love to do and that I’m good at. I have taken an exceptional amount of time off of work in order to be with my son as he goes through surgery after surgery and one painful or scary procedure after another. Through all of this, my employer has been supportive and has maintained my employment, albeit begrudgingly and with increasing reluctance. The work I do makes a tangible difference in the world; a difference for the recipient families whose joy I get to share. Frankly, even taking the abusive supervisors into account, I am blessed.

One of the things that has bothered me about the Bible is the fact that people were already living in Canaan when it was (according to the victors) promised to the Jews. It has always struck me as deeply unfair that the tribe of Israel would be given a land already possessed by others. What about the people already living there? Were they expected to just up and leave? I’ve come to the potentially naive conclusion that if the spies had brought back a message of optimism and hope to the people waiting in the desert, they would have been able to enter the land without bloodshed, and to live in peace with the neighbors there. The reason it became necessary to fight to claim the land (a fight that a wrestle with, since it strikes me as deeply unfair) is because they refused G-d’s blessing when it was offered to them and thus, it became more difficult to receive it in the future. Admittedly, this is not a well-formed thought and it still doesn’t address the fundamental injustice of the literalist interpretation.

On the bright side however, I’ve always been fond of reading any sacred text as metaphor. From the metaphorical perspective, this reading brings to mind one of my favorite Hebrew names for G-d: HaMakom, “The Place.” Perhaps, like I am today, the Jews were wrong to be looking for an external place of peace; a life free from injustice and uncertainty. Maybe instead, the land we are meant to dwell in G-d itself. This week’s Torah portion serves as a reminder to me that I cannot fail to see the blessings in life. G-d has sent each of us out on a mission: to find abundance in the lands we have been given; to seek HaMakom even in the midst of giants; and to have the faith and the vision to recognize this place when I see it.

To do otherwise- to focus on the fear, the frustration, and the “giants” in my life is to reject the blessings that accompany them and to risk losing out on so much goodness. The key is not to let my own experience of “slavery” and the feelings of resentment and degradation to blind me to the possibilities G-d has placed before me. But rather, as in the Midrash, to realize that regardless of where I find myself in life, I am dwelling within G-d itself and that S/he will “make me appear” just what I need to be in order to flourish and thrive in whatever physical Canaan I may enter. I am not slave, but angel. The land of milk and honey- HaMakom- is there, within my sights.