I have thought a lot about journeys this year. There were many; there always are. My mother’s life shifted in palpable ways that moved her from "older" to "old"; a big group of our Minyan children moved from elementary school to high school; I became a bionic woman; our country sent young men and women to war. Millions of journeys for millions of lives.
I read the commentary in Etz Hayim: (bottom right, p.840): ‘G-d seems to be saying, "I have told you already that the land is good and that I will give it to you. If you need human confirmation of that, go ahead and send scouts." ‘ Something stirred in my mind. Something seemed awfully familiar.
I understand the need of the Israelites to scout out the land. To live in uncertainty is to teeter in a delicate balance between the familiar and the unknown. It is easier to try to work out some sort of blueprint for what will happen on whatever journey we embark on — the first year of high school; a hip replacement; marriage; raising children; heading out for errands, for that matter.
Many of us want to know what we can expect, what obstacles we may meet along the way. We have a natural fear of the unknown. The Israelites in Shelach Lecha are a wonderful example of this. They wanted to know what they were getting into. "Check it out," says Moses. "Are the people strong or weak, few or many? Is the country good or bad? Are the towns open or fortified? Is the soil rich or poor? Is it wooded or not? Oh, and get some grapes while you’re there."
The only problem is that fear fuels their exploration, and so, colors the outcome. Ten of the scouts disagree with Caleb, and have determined that the Israelites cannot overcome the obstacles. "Okay, then let’s go back to Egypt!" is the overwhelming response.
Caleb’s and Joshua’s scouting, however, is fueled by faith. Caleb (at least in translation) does not even mention what he’s seen. He simply says, "Absolutely — let’s go!" And soon Joshua says, "It is a good land — have no fear!" Faith-based scouting sees no obstacles.
On the other hand, those who have used the scouting to gather negative, "anti-faith", information present obstacle after obstacle. After a somewhat amusing dialogue with G-d involving an exchange that sounds a lot like "You can’t do that — what will the neighbors think?", G-d decides to let the unbelieving and disobedient Israelites die off naturally in the course of 40 years of desert wandering, rather than killing them off immediately.
The message that came across loud and clear to me in this parsha is that journeys embarked upon with faith are G-d’s preference. G-d puts up with the human need to scout out the territory — "go ahead if you must" — but then shows us how it backfires.
As I thought about the journeys in my own life — physical, intellectual, spiritual, psychological - they have never been as I imagined they would be. When I was younger, I never knew how to deal with these obstacles and changes. Like the Israelites, I "sent scouts" out, predicting and imagining dangers and obstacles, and limiting my journeys because of this. Scouting out the future was a sure way to die in the desert.
Gradually I learned to let up on the blueprints and maps, and embark on life’s journeys — and the journey of life — as a faith-based adventure. Disappointments, obstacles, traps, detours are reminders to me that I am not in charge of planning out how my journeys will go. I see each obstacle as "G-d’s little reminders" that I am not in charge of all the details of the journey, and that I will be capable of handling the challenges that come.
I recently took an online course in picture book writing, and on one of the twenty intense days, we read and wrote about "Journey" books. It is notable that in many of the books — ALL the ones that I happened to choose to read and analyze that day — journeys are embarked upon with faith. There is no plan in any of these books. The protagonist wants to go somewhere new and better (geographically, intellectually, spiritually, psychologically), to move FROM some type of slavery TO some type of freedom.
As Bob and I talked about well-known literary journey-stories, and well known human journeys, this capacity to "go up into the land" without knowing exactly what lies ahead is at the basis of all the journeys we could think of.
I recently began reading a book because Adam asked me to — I was one-third of the way through the book, planning ahead for it to continue to be a carnival of special effects, beloved by my son, but not always by me. But because I promised, I continued, and before I knew it, I was lost in the dark journey of Jim and Will and Dad in the incredible and profound story, beneath the special effects, of Ray Bradbury’s SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES. The dark carnival was the setting for an intense and moving story of friendship, the longing for closeness between a boy and his dad, the presence of evil in all of us, and the dad’s brilliant discovery for combating it. Adam was right — the book took my heart somewhere I never planned to go.
Faith-fueled journeys are adventures — as Ellen reminded me, creative adventures…They may frighten us, surprise us, shock us, thrill us, and even take our breath away.
For the millions of journeys — tiny and huge, physical, spiritual, intellectual, psychological — that we all have during our lifetimes, G-d reminds us in Shelach Lecha that sending out scouts does not help, but rather inhibits.
Attempting to anticipate all the obstacles — scout them out — may be an attempt to avoid pain, fear, difficulty, and even discomfort, but it also avoids the possibility of surprise, thrill, and the rapture of life. Each journey gives us another opportunity to have faith, and leap ahead to the promised land.
Shabbat Shalom.