Thursday, July 16, 2015

A Laconic Travelogue: A Reflection for Parashat Masei, Friday 17 July 2015

A few weeks ago, I saw a note posted on Facebook by a colleague from my Navy days.  It was to inform us that a second colleague was blogging, and that his blog was “worth checking out.”  So of course, out of curiosity I looked up his blog and began reading.  The blog is about his travels.  He is retired and peripatetic; he and his wife live on a boat in Malaysia in the winter, and in an RV in the USA in the summer.  During this part of the year they travel about the Western states, but also take advantage of the superior health care in the USA to get the ongoing health issues of middle age taken care of.
I sat and read about three weeks’ worth of almost daily posts on the blog.  It was interesting after a fashion because I knew this guy years ago and was curious about what he’s up to now.  On the other hand, I haven’t become a follower of the blog because in all honesty it is more than a little dry.  It is about how he goes from place to place, what routes he takes, what the traffic and weather is like, how he finds his nightly parking places, how he communicates with family on the road.  It chronicles his health issues and doctors’ appointments.  It talks about the difficulties he experiences in keeping his journal that serves as the basis of his blog.  It reads somewhat like the intelligence reports we used to write in the day.  In short, his blog is…well, boring.
Whenever I interview someone who wants to pursue conversion to Judaism, I use part of the interview just to chat with the person and learn what they’re about, not specifically to talk about Judaism.  A question I’ll often throw in is:  What was your favourite book that you have read?  Sometimes, if I don’t know the individual, they approach the interview with more than a little nervousness.  That’s understandable.  After all, I have something they want, and they want to make a good impression.  But I always roll my eyes when they answer the question about the book:  The Torah.  (Alternative answer:  The Tanakh.  Most of these individuals at least know not to call it, The Old Testament!)
Look, it’s not that I don’t think The Torah, or the Tanakh, is a good and worthwhile book.  I would say that I would have to think so, to be in the ‘business’ I’m in, except that some of my colleague expend much effort denigrating our holy texts.  So I don’t have to think they’re great books, but I do.  But neither the Five Books of Moses, nor the Tanakh as a whole, is really compelling as literature.  They’re far too laconic.  Like my friend’s blog, they focus on the physical actions, and leave so much detail out.  It’s those details that make good, compelling reading.  That’s why I devour the books of Tom Clancy, and Dan Brown, and Faye Kellerman, and John Grisham to name several of my favourite authors.  All the above really weave a compelling narrative and riveting dialogues.  The Torah and Tanakh?  Not so much.  That’s why we have to discipline ourselves to study Torah.  The text doesn’t magnetically draw is in.
I hope you don’t think I’m committing heresy by saying this.  Or criticizing the Torah.  I’m only trying to be honest.  And judging by how many Tanakhs are quietly gathering dust on your bookshelves at home, I think I’m in good company.
Take this week’s Torah reading as an example.  We have a double portion this week:  Mattot-Masei.  The latter portion opens with the words:  These are the journeys of the Children of Israel who went forth from the land of Egypt.  And then, for the next 48 verses, we read the most prosaic travelogue imaginable.  The children of Israel journeyed from Ramses and encamped at Sukkot.  They journeyed from Sukkot and encamped at Etham, which is on the edge of the wilderness.  They journeyed from Etham and it turned back to Pi-hahirot, which is before Ba’al-tzefon, and they encamped before Migdal.  And that’s only three verses!  Imagine reading this narrative as it continues for 48 verses!  Why doesn’t the Torah tell us some more detail about what happened in those places, what the people experienced, how they reacted and felt?  Why isn’t there more of a story??!
     Rabbi Dr Benjamin Apple from Sydney, in his e-mail lesson this week, offers a good explanation.  He points out that many of those details have been chronicled elsewhere.  The itinerary of the Israelites’ travels is chronicled here with so little detail, because the text’s only purpose is to remind the Israelites of how far they’ve come, or how torturous a path they’ve travelled.  They know, and it is chronicled elsewhere, what happened and what they experienced there.  The entire itinerary is reiterated here in very laconic form, simply to set the scene for what’s happening in the larger text.
And what’s happening, if you read onward from the end of the little travelogue, is a long set of specific instructions.  On how the Israelites were to conduct themselves once they had taken possession of the land.  In other words, to me, the repetition of the itinerary is a literary device to remind the Israelites of how far and long they have come to possess the land.  As if to say:  You didn’t just waltz in from Egypt.  You therefore must take your possession of the land very seriously.  You must be good stewards.  You must remember all you’ve been taught of what G-d expects of you, and maintain those standards when you are in your land.  It is the wilderness that has forged you into the nation you are today, but the reason you have been so forged is to create in this land a light to the nations.
In other words, at least at this reading, the emphasis is on the destination – not the journey.  And that’s okay.  I know that I emphasise the journey, but the two foci are not mutually exclusive.  Sometimes, it is important to see the journey as preparing us for some end.  And to focus less on the details of the journey itself.
So my colleague’s blog – which is totally about the journey and the banal details along the way – is not in any way an inferior narrative.  It simply has a focus that is perhaps difficult for the casual reader to see.  But then, it doesn’t seem to have been written with the casual reader in mind.  Rather, it is written for close friends and family members, who want to read what, to someone who doesn’t know this man and his wife, might seem uninteresting.
Likewise, on the surface the reading that opens the Torah portion Masei, the chronicle of where the people Israel have travelled in their wanderings from Egypt until shortly before their entrance into the land of Israel, is not really for the benefit of the casual reader who happens upon it.  Rather, its purpose is to remind the Israelites of how far and long they have travelled to their present place, on the cusp of their entry into Canaan.  It’s as if Hashem is saying:  See what a long road this has been…don’t screw up now!

Looked at thusly, this seemingly prosaic travelogue really sets the stage for an epic account of an incredible adventure to come.  But you have to keep reading to get there.  So…keep reading!  Shabbat shalom.     

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