Parasha B'midbar is about entering the wilderness. Wilderness is not just a desolate location; "wilderness” implies entering a space beyond our comfort zone. The wilderness can be not only out there, but within us, as well.

Pastor Gary L. McCann suggests the following questions when reflecting on wilderness. Where is the wilderness that concerns us? Is it fear of getting older? Is it that illness might claim our life? Is it financial worry that leaps like a demon in the darkness of night? Is it concern for our children, or for our parenting skills? Is it relationships that trouble us? What wilderness spurs our insomnia? What wilderness consumes our thoughts?

Wilderness without a compass would be a treacherous journey. Wilderness without a plan or map is a nightmare. In the parasha we are given explicit tools on how to navigate wilderness. The first is to see who else is around. We learn to do this through the taking of a census. (Numbers 1:2–4) The second tool is that we should strive to be organized. As our people marched in the wilderness, they did so in an organized manner, moving troop by troop, carrying banners and parts of the tabernacle. (Numbers 2:1–34) The third, appreciate that everyone is playing a role. The portion explains what each tribe is meant to do, revealing that every person was worthy for their participation. (Numbers 3:5–37)

And ultimately we trust. We trust that there is a reason for the wandering.

Wilderness is not bad, but it is definitely not comfortable. At the same time, without exploring those places of unknown, we don't expand and find out what we are capable of. No wilderness, no wonder. No wilderness, no sense of accomplishment.

Rabbi Lawrence Kushner tells of the time he and his wife set out for the wilderness to do some hiking and communing with nature. Having heard horrible stories about bears in these mountains of Montana, they were rightfully cautious and a bit leery of the adventure. "Get many bears up here?” He asked the ranger.

"Sometimes quite a few,” was the reply.

"How about that easy trail around the lake over there? Any chance of running into any this morning—so close to the store....?”

The ranger paused for a moment and took a slow sip of his coffee. "If I could tell you for sure there wouldn't be any bears, it wouldn't be a wilderness, now would it?”

We can walk where things are predictable—or you can enter the wilderness. Without the wilderness there can be neither reverence nor revelation. (Invisible Lines of Connection)

As much as we would like to avoid it, the wilderness is where G-d is. The Torah was given in the wilderness. Out of the desert, with all of its dangers, came our sacred and eternal road map.

We are given bread and wine for the journey. This is bread that is more than bread; this is wine that is more than wine. We can trust the food; we can trust the journey; we can trust that we are not alone. And wherever we end up, G-d will meet us there.

Rabbis Nancy and David