חמישה מי יודע? Who knows five? You do, I’m sure. חמישה חומשי תורה, “Five are the books of Torah.” But could there be seven? Or possibly only three?

In the middle of our parashah appears a brief passage which is bracketed off from the rest of the text. If you look closely in the Torah scroll, you can see what appear to be inverted nuns surrounding two familiar verses (Num. 10:35-26):

׆ וַיְהִי בִּנְסֹעַ הָאָרֹן וַיֹּאמֶר מֹשֶׁה קוּמָה  ה’ וְיָפֻצוּ אֹיְבֶיךָ וְיָנֻסוּ מְשַׂנְאֶיךָ מִפָּנֶיךָ׃ 

וּבְנֻחֹה יֹאמַר שׁוּבָה ה’ רִבְבוֹת אַלְפֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל׃ ׆

׆ When the Ark was to set out, Moses would say: Advance, O ETERNAL One! May Your enemies be scattered, And may Your foes flee before You!

And when it halted, he would say:

Return, O ETERNAL One, You who are Israel’s myriads of thousands! ׆

Moses here appeals for the Lord to lead Israel into battle, and then to return them to a tranquil encampment. Like other ancient peoples, Israel marched into battle bearing symbols of its God. We know from later biblical history that the Holy Ark was used this way and was once taken captive by the Philistines (I Samuel Ch. 4). In fact next week we will read about the incident of the ma’apilim who go to battle without the permission of Moses, and without the holy ark, and they are massacred by Amalekites and Canaanites (Numbers 14:40-45). 

We understand the power of the Holy Ark, but why is its military function mentioned here, when the people are not marching into battle, and why are these verses demarcated by characters that look like inverted letters nun? 

Today we use these two verses to bracket the Torah service, singing the first as we remove the scroll, and the second as we return it to the ark. We imagine that the Lord of Israel is marching along with us. Not into battle, but in a royal procession which adds majesty to the Torah service. Psalm 24, which we recite when returning the Torah on weekdays and holidays, functions in a similar fashion. God is on the move, and God’s movement inspires awe and celebration. But moving through the world can be a challenge, as 40 years of complaints in the desert well illustrates. Taking the Torah along is an Israelite strategy for success. Still, why are these verses bracketed off in the Torah? 

The inverted nun is called נו”ן מנוזרת‎ “isolated nun” or נו”ן הפוכה‎ “inverted nun” and indicates that something is amiss in the text. This is the only location in the Masoretic Text of the Bible where inverted nuns appear, but they are also found in the Septuagint and Qumran texts.(note 1) What do they mean?

In Midrash Sifrei BeMidbar (84:1) Rabbi Shimon says that these marks before and after the passage indicate that the verses are in the wrong place:

 ר’ שמעון אומר: נקוד עליו מלמעלה ומלמטה, מפני שלא היה זה מקומו.

Rabbi Shimon says, the marks above and below [this passage] are because this was not the [original] placement.

A similar statement is found in Avot D’Rabbi Natan (A 34):

רבן שמעון בן גמליאל אומר ראויה היתה פרשה זו שתעקר ממקומה ותכתב במקום אחר.

Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says, this passage should be removed from its place and written somewhere else.

Ancient Greek texts have a similar sign known as an antisigma which looks like a backwards sigma or C [Ͻ] and is used as a bracket to indicate when lines of poetry are out of place. According to Rabbi Shimon, that’s the case here as well. Something is out of place. But what is off here? Our parashah narrates the march of Israel into the desert, so why not mention the role of the ark? 

In the Talmud (B. Shabbat 116a) we hear again that this passage was removed from its original location. The rabbis reveal their theory of the proper place: the description of the tribal flags about which we read in Numbers, Ch. 2. The Torah says over there (v.34), כֵּֽן־חָנ֤וּ לְדִגְלֵיהֶם֙ וְכֵ֣ן נָסָ֔עוּ, that the tribes encamped by their flags, and so did they march. The rabbinic theory of proper location of these verses is plausible, but why then were the verses moved? 

According to the Talmud, the verses were uprooted and placed into our parashah for a special purpose–to break up two accounts of puranut, or suffering. What accounts of suffering are broken up in our portion? In v.34 we read that the people of Israel traveled from the mountain of the Lord–וַיִּסְעוּ מֵהַר ה׳. It was hard for Israel to depart from the sacred mountain which had become their spiritual home. And then in their very first stop, the people complained bitterly, and God sent a fire that burned the edge of camp, וַתִּבְעַר־בָּם֙ אֵ֣שׁ ה’ וַתֹּ֖אכַל בִּקְצֵ֥ה הַֽמַּחֲנֶֽה. 

Departing Sinai was hard for Israel, and so was arriving in an unfamiliar location, so this text about God journeying with the people, scattering their enemies and leading them to tranquility adds comfort to their journey. The Torah itself says (10:33) that the ark traveled three days ahead of the camp to seek a resting place, וַאֲר֨וֹן בְּרִית־ה’ נֹסֵ֣עַ לִפְנֵיהֶ֗ם דֶּ֚רֶךְ שְׁלֹ֣שֶׁת יָמִ֔ים לָת֥וּר לָהֶ֖ם מְנוּחָֽה׃. Still, according to the Talmud, the verses don’t really belong here, and some day they will be moved back to their proper place. Meanwhile, the nuns remind us of their dislocation.

But this claim means that the Torah text has been sundered and rearranged, edited. How does this rearrangement change the nature of the Torah? In Midrash Sifrei Bemidbar, Rabbi Judah the Prince makes a bold claim (note 2). He says that these two bracketed verses constitute a book unto themselves:

רבי אומר: מפני שהוא ספר בעצמו.

If Rabbi Judah is to be believed, then the relocation of these verses breaks the book of Numbers into three parts, meaning that there are no longer five books of Torah, but seven. This little miniature book–two verses in total, only 85 characters long–is dedicated to a small but essential subject–when to travel, and when to rest. It acknowledges the anxiety of dislocation, and the importance of taking the Torah with you to provide direction and protection on your path.

So that’s the argument for seven books of Torah.(note 3) Might we argue in contrast that there are only three? Indeed we might divide the Torah into three sections: 

Early Travels / Encampment at Sinai / Later Travels

The first third of the Torah, all of Genesis and Exodus 1-18, describes the early travels of the ancestors starting with the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Eden to Abram and Sarai’s trek to Canaan, to their great-grandchildren’s descent to Egypt, and finally to the Exodus and the 3-month march to Sinai. These journeys are rich in narrative and adventure, and they build a mythic history for the people of Israel. But they are relatively poor in providing useful information for how to live later as an Israelite or a Jew. 

The final-third of the Torah, consisting of Numbers 10 until the end of Deuteronomy, is again a travelogue. We read about Israel’s later travels: 40 years of bickering in the desert, leading finally to arrival at the border of Jericho and the promised land. Many laws are discussed in the final third of the Torah, but they are mostly repeats of what we have already learned. The third third of Torah is dedicated to the bumpy road from the sacred mountain to the sacred land. 

But then there is the middle third of Torah, and here the focus is on how to live together as a people in covenant with God. Starting in Exodus 19, when Israel arrives at the foot of Mt. Sinai, and ending in Numbers 10, when the people muster and finally begin to move again, these 57 chapters are focused on revelation and regulations. From Exodus Chapters 19-40, then the entire book of Leviticus, and finally the first nine chapters of Numbers–57 chapters all told–this all transpired in one place, the base of Mt. Sinai. The entire narrative of the tabernacle, and the entire complex of priestly legislation–sacrifices, purity, ethical codes and the festive calendar–all of this information and more was revealed during their stable period at the base of Mt. Sinai. 

And how long was that momentous sojourn? Apparently just under one year, since Exodus 19 says that they arrived in the third month of the first year, and Numbers 10:11 says that they departed in the second month of the second year on the 20th day, the cloud lifted from the tabernacle of testimony, and off they went: וַיְהִ֞י בַּשָּׁנָ֧ה הַשֵּׁנִ֛ית בַּחֹ֥דֶשׁ הַשֵּׁנִ֖י בְּעֶשְׂרִ֣ים בַּחֹ֑דֶשׁ נַעֲלָה֙ הֶֽעָנָ֔ן מֵעַ֖ל מִשְׁכַּ֥ן הָעֵדֻֽת׃. 

The heart of the Torah is found in the middle third, the extended encampment at the foot of Mt Sinai, the place where the people of Israel became covenantal partners with God. Having accomplished this transformation, it is time for them to travel on. As Moses later recalls in Deuteronomy (1:6), God spoke to Israel at Horeb and said, “enough time dwelling on this mountain” רַב־לָכֶ֥ם שֶׁ֖בֶת בָּהָ֥ר הַזֶּֽה׃. And so the people of Israel moved on, taking the Torah with them, and the journey of Judaism to become a world religion began.

When we think about our lives, when we narrate them to others, we often dwell on the points of transition, the grand journeys. That’s where the drama is found. That’s where new goals are set. But the most impactful periods of our lives are often when we stay in place, establishing families and friends, and learning how to function as a community. Each one of us has made important journeys, even those who have lived their entire lives on this island. There is always a point of origin, always at least one significant encampment, and always another journey, whether physical or spiritual, to expand your experience of the world. 

Sometimes we plan our journeys with great intention and care. Other times it is as if the cloud has lifted up and beckoned us to follow. We all crave agency and control, but the spirit of adventure, of traveling without knowing exactly for how long, is also compelling. Sometimes a passage of Torah must relocate to fulfill a new need. And sometimes we too must move to serve a new purpose. Still, marks remain like the inverted nuns of our parashah to remind us of our history, and to indicate our intention one day to return. Traveling with the Torah gives us courage when our journey leads into conflict, but the ultimate aim of Torah is לָת֥וּר לָהֶ֖ם מְנוּחָֽה׃ to guide our path to tranquility. May God give each of us courage to journey towards uncertain destinations, and may God bless each of us with the ability to find our way home.

Notes:

1. See Emanuel Tov, “Scribal Marks,” and “The Song of the Ark” in TheTorah.com.
2. In Midrash Bereshit Rabbah 64 this tradition is given in the name of Bar Kapparah: 
   בר קפרא עבד מן ראשית דספר וידבר ועד גבי ויהי בנסע הארן ויאמר משה (במדבר י:כה) ספר בפני עצמו, ויהי בנסע הארון ודבתריה ספר בפני עצמו, מן תמן ועד סופיה דספרא ספר בפני עצמו. 
3. The Talmud’s claim of seven books of Torah attempts to explain Proverbs 9:1, חׇ֭כְמוֹת בָּנְתָ֣ה בֵיתָ֑הּ חָצְבָ֖ה עַמּוּדֶ֣יהָ שִׁבְעָֽה׃. A medieval tradition cited by Jacob Milgrom in JPS Torah Commentary: Numbers from Ginzei Mitzraim claims that these verses were not written by Moses, but rather by the prophets Eldad and Meidad, and are therefore a remnant from a different Torah altogether.