In praise of the schleppers
Written by Rabbi Elliott Karstadt — 6 June 2022
Today, Ben read about the schleppers – those in the community of the Israelites in the wilderness who carried things around, cared for the portable architecture of the community as the people moved from place to place.
In the Book of Numbers, we have a number of stories about Moses and Aaron and Miriam, people who were important in setting the direction of the Israelites through the wilderness. Even when they don’t agree with that direction. Like the ten spies who lack faith in God’s ability to deliver them to the Promised Land. Or the rebels of Korach, who want to displace Moses as leader of the Israelites and take the priesthood for themselves. There is the story of the prophet Balaam and his attempt to curse the Israelites, only for God to force his mouth open and make him bless them instead. There is even a moment in which Miriam and Aaron turn against their own brother Moses, in debates about the direction the Israelites have taken.
And yet, today we read about those who quietly get on with the work of (as Ben said) ensuring that sacred community is able to continue regardless of what else is happening. The Gershonites, the Merarites and the Kohatites are all responsible for ensuring that the Tabernacle and the Tent of Meeting are carried from place to place in the wilderness. They ensure that the Israelites do not lose their contact with the divine.
The schleppers are honoured in our text – their role and its importance is recorded, when it would have been easy for their contribution to have been forgotten. As we read in our haftarah today, the Gershonites, the Merarites and the Kohatites are apportioned land and supplies once the Israelites have conquered the land of Canaan.
The parallels with our communities today ought to be clear. During the pandemic, members of our community responded to what was needed, in the same way as the rabbi Ben spoke about, ensuring that despite adverse conditions, Jewish life continued, and that we continued to be there for each other in times of need. Whether this was making regular phone calls to someone who was isolated at home, cooking hundreds of honey cakes for Rosh Hashanah, or dropping of challot every week to another member going through a difficult time, members of Alyth quietly got on with doing the unglamorous work of community.
In this month’s Around Alyth, you will see that there are new volunteering opportunities in our community. We are in need of more volunteers who can lead shiva prayers, and we are in need of more volunteers who can be trained up to provide tech support for our Zoom services and hybrid learning.
Leading shiva prayers in a house of mourning can be the most rewarding experience – being able to offer a mitzvah to a family or individual who has suffered a bereavement.
Being part of our tech support team will continue to allow those who are joining us from home to be a part of our community.
Both of these roles are very much like being one of the Gershonites – in that it allows our religion to be portable into people’s homes. Both of these roles hold our community together. Neither come with great pageantry, but both are necessary and rewarding.
There is a story in the Babylonian Talmud of a conflict between two rabbis. One (Rabban Gamliel) is rich and powerful, used to the trappings of privilege. The other (Rabbi Yehoshua) lives in a hut, and has to fund his prodigious learning by working as a blacksmith. When Rabban Gamliel comes to apologise and to make it up to Rabbi Yehoshua, he cannot help but comment on the blackened walls of his small blacksmith’s hut.
‘Woe to your generation of scholars!’ cries Rabbi Yehoshua ‘That they have not had to work to support themselves!’
Rabbi Yehoshua’s is the kind of invisible labour that so often gets forgotten. And yet without it, we would not also have benefitted from his Talmudic wisdom.
Much of the time, that invisible work was done by those who were not part of the powerful rabbinic class – women, servants, slaves, those who were not educated but whose labour allowed the community to continue. Without them, we would not have the towering figures of our tradition.
Hence, we add into our Amidah the names of the wives of the Patriarchs – in acknowledgement of the fact that, without them, there would not have been a next generation in Israel.
We have reached the 49th day of the Omer, which means that our counting from Pesach to Shavuot is complete, and our Omer calendar is full.
In fact, our Omer calendar that stands on our bimah every year is an example of the kind of small actions about which I am speaking. Each of those squares made by a different person – brought together in tiny stitches to serve the whole. We have reached Shavuot – a big moment of revelation and celebration, of jubilee – but let us not forget each of those little squares, which represent the small actions that led to this moment, and made it all possible.
So, on this Shabbat and this coming Shavuot, when we celebrate the great ones of our realm, and when we recall the revelation of the law to Moses on Mount Sinai, let us also remember those through history who have laboured in their shadow. Let us pay tribute to those who were not powerful, and who did not take part in big questions of leadership, but quietly continued with the crucial work that sustained community. Let us remind ourselves that the small acts that we do – whether it is making a call to someone who is isolated, dropping off challah, keeping us safe by doing a security shift on the gate, running tech for a Zoom meeting – all of these are in some ways mighty acts, since without them so much simply would not happen.