D’Var Torah by Cantor Jamie Marx
It’s been 40 years. Forty years. The Israelites are encamped across the Jordan River from Jericho. They are ready to cross the border, start their new lives, and begin the transition from nomads to settlers. We get a double portion of Torah this week, comprised of the portions Matot and Mas’ei, and bringing us to the final stage of the Israelites’ journey to the Promised Land. Before the Israelites move forward, they look back over their journey and review how far they’ve come. Almost the entirety of Deuteronomy will be a recap of their wilderness wanderings, but it begins here, at the end of Numbers. Near the beginning of Mas’ei, the text lists many of the cities and waypoints the Israelites have seen in their 40 years of wandering. It’s a dull recitation of locations:
“The Israelites set out from Rameses and encamped at Succoth. They set out from Succoth and encamped at Etham, which is on the edge of the wilderness. They set out from Etham and turned about toward Pi-hahiroth, which faces Baal-zephon, and they encamped before Migdol.” (Numbers 33:5-7)
Almost the entirety of this chapter reads the same way, telling us they went from point A to point B to point C. It isn’t until the last few verses of Numbers 33 that the structure changes and we get a few commandments. It’s such a dry section that even the great Torah commentator Rashi has almost nothing to say about it! Cantorial tradition, though, adds a unique and beautiful musical layer to the recitation of these waypoints. Normally, Torah is chanted according to a system known most commonly as “trope” or “cantillation.” Each word of Torah gets a typographical symbol that indicates the correct melody for that word. Those symbols are how Torah readers know how to chant any given verse. The same is true for all our sacred texts which are traditionally chanted: the five books of the Torah, selections from the prophetic texts, and the five megillot (Song of Songs, Ruth, Esther, Lamentations, and Ecclesiastes). The symbols are the same, but the melodies change depending on the book being chanted, giving each of these texts their own musical flavor. In Mas’ei, however, we find a section that is sung with a unique melody, regardless of the cantillation marks. Many of the verses in this section (Numbers 33:11-12 and 33:17-46) are chanted in pairs using an ancient melody called the “Journeys” melody. It makes perfect sense that a melody for journeying would be used in this spot, since it’s literally a description of the Israelites’ journey from Egypt to the border of the Promised Land. The “Journeys” melody, also called the “Traveling Melody,” is sung in a few other contexts. Most famously, it’s used in several spots before, during, and after the “Song of the Sea,” the ancient poem in Exodus recited by Moses and the Israelites after they crossed the Sea of Reeds. It also makes sense that we would use a “traveling” melody there, when the Israelites are physically exiting the land of their enslavement and spiritually crossing a threshold into a new covenantal relationship with God. The same melody is used for the chanting of “chazak, chazak, v’nitchazeik,” a phrase with a unique place in Torah reading. After the last word of a book of Torah is chanted, the congregation sings “chazak, chazak, v’nitchazeik,” which the cantor or worship leader would then echo. The phrase means, “Be strong, be strong, and we will all be strengthened.” It may seem odd that a melody for traveling marks the end of each book, but it might be the secret sauce that has sustained the Jewish people for 2,000 years. Reading Numbers reminds us that most of our lives will be spent wandering in the wilderness. Our lives are journeys of uncertain length, with twists and turns that we can’t foresee. Our days will be mostly filled with the humdrum routine of living: holding down a job, caring for family and friends, doing laundry and dishes. Every day is mostly the same. Once in a while, we may experience a revelation, a brief moment on the mountaintop when we catch a glimpse of the inner workings of the universe. But then the revelation passes; the moment fades, and we go back to our jobs, our families, and our laundry. A story is told of the Israelites when they crossed the Sea of Reeds. Many looked up in awe as they crossed on dry land, admiring the miraculous parting of the sea and the walls of water that hovered above them. But some looked down and only saw the mud sticking to their feet. We have a choice – are we open to miracles in our lives or do we just see the mud, the tedium, and the struggle? The arts organization Storahtelling calls the Torah reading “the world’s longest-running rerun.” Every week, every year, for over 2,000 years, we have read the same words over and over. Just like in our daily lives, we encounter the same things again and again. But with Torah, each reading is an opportunity to discover new challenges and warnings in the text, new sources of hope and optimism. The text never changes, but we do. When we come back to a portion we’ve read before, the filter through which we view the world has changed, revealing new colors and textures. “Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazeik.” That’s what we’ll sing when we get to the end of this week’s portion. Every ending is a transition to a new chapter, another leg of the journey. We’re all headed to places that we can only imagine and can’t truly understand until we get there. Whatever journey you’re on, may your feet lead you to your Promised Land. Just make sure to stop and enjoy the view once in a while.