The Book of Bamidbar — "In the desert" — begins with Hashem commanding Moshe to take a census of all men over age twenty — old enough for service. The count reveals just over 600,000. The levi'im are counted separately later on because their service will be unique. They will be responsible for transporting the Mishkan and its furnishings, and assembling them when the nation encamps. The 12 Tribes of Israel, each with its banner, are arranged around the Mishkan in four sections: east, south, west and north. Since Levi is singled out, the tribe of Yosef is split into two tribes, Efraim and Menashe, so there will be four groups of three. When the nation travels, they march in a formation similar to the way they camp.

A formal transfer is made between the first-born and the levi'im, whereby the levi'im take over the role the first-born would have had serving in the Mishkan if not for the sin of the golden calf. The transfer is made using all the 22,000 surveyed levi'im from one month old and up. Only levi'im between 30 and 50 will work in the Mishkan. The remaining first-born sons are redeemed with silver, similar to the way we redeem our first-born today. The sons of Levi are divided into the three main families of Gershon, Kehat and Merari (besides the kohanim — the special division from Kehat's family). The family of Kehat carried the Menorah, the Table, the Altar and the Holy Ark. Because of their utmost sanctity, the Ark and the Altar are covered only by Aharon and his sons, before the levi'im prepare them for travel.

PARSHA INSIGHTS

The Power of Faith

“…in the desert…”

At the beginning of the founding of the State of Israel, living here was like living in a desert.

This is a story I heard from my mechutan, Rabbi Michoel Bachar:

When my parents arrived in Eretz Yisrael, they settled near Binyamina. This was about 75 years ago. It was a difficult time in Eretz Yisrael. It was after the war. My father, who fought for the British, was wounded in the war. It was the time of the tzena – there was almost nothing to eat. My father bought a donkey and a plow and hired himself out. Him and the donkey. Furrow after furrow. It was very hard work.

My mother learned to sew and worked as a seamstress - and that's how they make a living. It wasn’t a high standard of life but enough for them to be able to survive.

And that's how the years passed. Slowly they saved some money and decided that they would plant a vineyard. The soil was heavy and ideal for growing grapes. This is a part of Eretz Yisrael where the vines of the Land of Israel grow well.

My father went to one of his army friends and bought seedlings from him, and planted his own vineyard. According to halacha, you have to wait 4 years before you can enjoy the fruits of the vine. For the first three years, the grapes are Orlah and forbidden to have benefit from them, and then they are Kerem Revai.

As the vines developed, he hoisted them onto trellises, and separated the seedlings so each and every seedling would have its own space to grow. Then he stuck poles in the ground, and cross beams through which he threaded thick wire for the vineyard to grow. And the vines grew thick, covering the wires and even the poles.

We waited.

In the fourth year, the grapes looked really luscious. He couldn’t wait to harvest them. One morning, he woke up to see that all the grapes had fallen off the vines and were lying on the ground. He was heartbroken. He went to mother and she said, “Don’t worry! The vines were probably too young and not strong enough. We’ve waited four years - we can wait five.”

The next year came, and exactly the same thing happened.

Father said, “Mother, this isn’t working. Let’s move.” She said, “No. It must be that the vines weren’t strong enough yet. We’ll wait another year. Don’t worry. Don’t panic. It’s not easy but,” she pointed to Heaven, “it’s going to be fine.”

The following year, the harvest season was approaching, and my father went out to the vineyard. Again, all the grapes had fallen from the vine.

My father said to my mother, “What now? What are we going to do?”

She said, “Go and speak to an agricultural expert, and see what he says.”

My father brought in a specialist. He walked around the vineyard, looking at everything. He took away some samples. About a week later, he came back and said to my father, “You’re going to have to pull up the entire vineyard.”

“But why?” exclaimed my father. The agronomist explained that this was an unusual type of vine which was not hermaphroditic. Most grapevines contain both male and female parts within the same flower, but these vines don’t have the female parts. Just before as they ripen, they fall from the trees. “It’s not a vineyard.” He said.

My father went to my mother and told her. “Uproot the vineyard?” she said. “Seven years we’ve waited for this vineyard. Seven years. It’s not possible that HaKadosh Baruch Hu would do such a thing to us. What will we do? We will wait. We believe in Him. We will wait.”

The area in which we lived had many springs. Not more than a half a year had passed when it was announced that Mekorot, the Israeli Water Authority was going to channel all these springs into a large reservoir near Pardes Chana. They were going to build a large overland aqueduct through the area. All of the local farmers wanted the aqueduct to pass through their land because they would receive very generous compensation.

My father wanted to go and argue and put in a claim for his land, but my mother said, “You’re not built for that.” She pointed her finger to Heaven. “Let’s wait and see.”

Mekorot took many parts of our neighbors’ property, but when it came to my parents, they wanted the whole thing. Every single square inch.

They gave us an enormous sum of money. And with that, my father bought a tractor and forty dunam of land – nearly ten acres. That’s about the size of five city blocks.

That’s the power of faith. That’s the power of trusting in Hashem.