The penultimate subject of Parshas Shlach Lcha begins with anonymity. “And it was that when Bnei Yisrael was in the Wildreness, and they came upon a man gathering wood on Shabbas” (Bamidbar 9:32). While the Midrash provides details on the who, where, when, and even why, the fact that it is written in such an ambiguous and anonymous manner communicates in itself something profoundly meaningful.
Before exploring the
wood-gatherer further, however, let us look at the very beginning of the
parsha. “These are their names: For the tribe of Reuben, Shammua the son of
Zakkur. For the tribe of Simeon, Shaphat the son of Hori. For the tribe of
Judah, Caleb the son of Jepphunneh. For the tribe of Issachar, Yigal the son of
Joseph. For the tribe of Ephraim, Hoshea
the son of Nun. For the tribe of
Benjamin, Palti the son of Raphu. For
the tribe of Zebulun, Gaddiel the son of Sodi. For the tribe of Joseph, for the tribe of
Manasseh, Gaddi the son of Susi. For the tribe of Dan, Ammiel the son of
Gemalli. For
the tribe of Asher, Sethur the son of Michael. For the tribe of Naphtali, Nahbi
the son of Vophsi. For the tribe of Gad, Geuel the son of Machi. These are the names
of the men Moses sent to scout the Land…” (13:4-16).
The parsha starts out with
recounting the journey of the spies, how they went into the Promised Land,
looked around, and declared that the land was too difficult and dangerous for
them. Ten of these 12 men led Bnei Yisrael into despair, into crying out that
they were being led to their death. Their behavior effected not just Bnei
Yisrael in the Wilderness, but every generation since.
Parshas Shlach highlights
two places where people did wrong, where there were actions and punishments and
significant consequences. Their crimes were very different, but it is interesting
to note that whereas the wood-gatherer is given anonymity, the spies are listed
by name. This leads us to two interesting and opposing questions. What is similar
about these two situations? What is the difference between them?
The two main narratives of
Parshas Shlach are connected in a very subtle way. According to tradition, had
Bnei Yisrael entered the Promised Land at that time, they would have done so
with Moshe as their leader, and they would have been given a situation much as
we imagine the forthcoming days of Moshiach (bimhairah b’yameinu). But with all
the blessing that includes, it also precludes spiritual growth, and Bnei
Yisrael really weren’t ready for that. Similarly, it is a well-known statement
that if Klal Yisrael keeps two consecutive Shabbasim, they will bring Moshiach,
and, again, they weren’t ready for that. In fact, several commentaries assert
that the wood-gatherer acted deliberately in order to break the second Shabbas
and to teach his brethren about the true significance of guarding Shabbas
because they were not yet spiritually strong enough.
Both actions had dire
consequences for Klal Yisrael, so why are the spies named but the wood-gatherer
left anonymous?
The wood-gatherer was a man
who sinned. Whether he sinned on purpose, as some commentaries say, or by
accident, whether he chose to ignore the warning he received or didn’t
understand the consequences of his actions, he was just a member of the
kehilla. His transgression was grave. And while there is an idea that except
for him Klal Yisrael would have kept a perfect Shabbas, that is also not a
foregone conclusion. Someone else might have erred.
The spies, on the other
hand, were not just members of Klal Yisrael. The Torah wants it made clear that
they were men of significance, that they were leaders of their tribes. Interestingly,
the Torah describes the wood-gatherer’s actions from the point of being caught,
after the act is done; the narrative of the spies, on the other hand, is
related from before they acted.
The actions of Shammua,
Shaphat, Yigal, Palti, Gaddiel, Gaddi, Ammiel, Sethur, Nahbi, and G’uel were
compounded by their name. They had influence. They knew that their brethren
would listen to them, would follow them. They are named because they were
significant people to others.
We live in an era where celebrity
comes and goes, where too many people are pushing for their five minutes of
fame, where everyone and their brother seem to think that if they have a smartphone
with a camera they can be touted as experts on something or other. But being
known, being famous, being a person people immediately think of and turn to,
means that one’s every action has a greater impact on other people.
The Torah doesn’t name the
wood-gatherer because who he is is not important, and he has the right to
privacy and respect. His actions are significant and so must be publicized, but
his name does not have to be. Who the spies were, on the other hand, had a direct
connection to the impact of their actions, and they cannot be shielded from
being named and connected to the great travesty that sent Bnei Yisrael back
into the Wilderness.