Space Flags in the Desert — Bamidbar and Shavuot

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Last week China landed the Change-6 probe on the far side of the moon and unfurled its signature red flag. Named for the Chinese god of the moon, this expedition may simply be a small scientific achievement that went largely unnoticed by those not involved in cosmic accomplishments.

Yet, it caught my eye.

Space is of course a frontier of scientific discovery. Humanity’s thirst for knowledge knows no bounds and the universe awaits our full understanding. Exploring our solar system and beyond not only deepens our comprehension of the cosmos, but also contributes significantly to advancements in astrophysics and cosmology. Without NASA, the world would be bereft of cochlear implants, scratch-resistant sunglasses, freeze-drying and memory foam.

Yet space also presents a deeply human desire to explore; to find clarity, meaning and purpose. The anthropological problem posed by space demands that we seek to complete our understanding of humanity. Ever since mankind looked up at the night sky, we have questioned our place in this vast cosmic wilderness.

And of course, the wilderness is a significant theme of Parshat Bamidbar.

The desert provides an essential metaphor for the Jewish spirit. Our Rabbis teach that one must be open like a desert to receive Torah (Tanhuma Bamidbar 6:1). Receptivity, creativity, and openness are the essential qualities of Jewish life. The dynamism of the tradition depends on the impulse of internal freedom to create and innovate. Even in cramped quarters one should feel that there is an open sky overhead.

Yet, the open expanse of a barren wasteland also fosters chaos, anarchy, and disorder. The promise of fragmentation and disintegration looms large and the need for structure and control arises.

Enter the humble flag.

Our parsha describes how Bnei Yisrael were to be divided according to tribes and march through the desert in a set pattern and formation. In addition, each was to have its own banner or flag — an identifier and mark of distinction.

The Midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah 2) cites a remarkable origin for this practice.

When God revealed himself on Har Sinai, 22 myriads of angels descended — each in formation. When the Jewish people saw this, they immediately began to copy them.

אָמַר לָהֶם הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מַה נִּתְאַוִּיתֶם לַעֲשׂוֹת דְּגָלִים, חַיֵּיכֶם שֶׁאֲנִי מְמַלֵּא מִשְׁאֲלוֹתֵיכֶם, מִיָּד הוֹדִיעַ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אוֹתָם לְיִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַר לְמשֶׁה “לֵךְ עֲשֵׂה אוֹתָם דְּגָלִים כְּמוֹ שֶׁנִּתְאַוּוּ”.

The Holy One Blessed Be He said to them: Just as you wish to emulate to flag formation [of the angels], I swear that I will fulfill your request. Immediately God made it known and said to Moshe: “Go and make them flags as they emulated”

What was so appealing about the stiff rigidity of these angels? Why would free man envy such constricted form?

To understand the profound symbol of the banners in the desert and their relation to angels, we must note that there are two words for a banner or flag in Hebrew — Degel or Nes — each with a different connotation.

Nes is an external symbol, a sign to others. It is placed on display for outsiders. Thus, Yishayahu speaks of a messianic era whereby

“he shall raise a banner for the nations from the distance” — וניסה נס לגוים מרחוק. (Isaiah 5:26)

The nes is meant for other nations- a signal for the outsider, an external indication of our inner identity.

Degel on the other hand represents the fulfillment of one’s own purpose, one’s own destiny, the meaning of one’s own life for himself or herself. Nes implies communication with others. Degel implies communion with yourself.

As Rabbi Norman Lamm beautifully puts it:

“Nes will cause people to rally — Degel will rally people to a cause”

In Jewish tradition, an angel is created for one single purpose, for one solitary shelichut. The angel knows what he was created for, and he proceeds to achieve that goal. The degel, therefore, is the appropriate symbol of the malakh. It demonstrates a single-minded purpose of unwavering commitment.

It was this drive that Bnei Yisrael wished to emulate. The Israelites wanted, like the angels, to know the great purpose for which each of them was brought into the world. Every Jew wanted to know what he stands for, what function he is to serve in the grand drama of creation.

Indeed, the boundary-less expanse of the desert provided the perfect backdrop for Godly boundaries. In some ways this fourth book of the Torah recaps creation; the wilderness is a kind of tohu vavohu, a place formless and void, empty of structures. As God made forms and order within chaos at creation, so the Israelites learn how to form themselves into a society amidst the emptiness of the wilderness. What God has done for the world; Israel must now do for society.

Our modern wilderness is no different. China added its flag to the moon last week — joining a club of very few countries to have achieved such a feat. Indeed, the human desire for order extends far beyond the realms of our atmosphere.

The Israeli space program is no different and holds many of the keys to our nation’s future survival. At 10:24pm on April 11th, 2019, the Beresheet Lunar Probe was just 150 meters away from making history. Alas, Israeli Mission control last contact with the space craft and at the last minute, the vehicle flipped over and crashed.

Beresheet Lunar Probe moments before crash

Still, regardless of the outcome, the mere presence of Beresheet so close to the lunar surface signaled to the world that Israel was a burgeoning player on one of the next major frontiers of advanced technology. Indeed, “this small nation with big dreams” is set to launch Beresheet 2 next year.

Yet, in my opinion, Israel’s aspiration to land on the moon represents only a nes — a proud banner that we fly high as a legitimate player on the world’s technological stage.

Facing the infinite economic, organizational, and technological challenges of the cosmos will require humanity to alter our social, political, and moral structures. What it means to be human will ultimately be determined by how we respond to the question of space — AND — how we as the Jewish people respond to a new frontier. The true flag that should be flown in space should be that of our Torah.

It is significant that we read the portion of degalim on the Shabbat before Shavuot. On Shavuot we each realise the very nature of our machaneh, our camp — the values and tenets of our Holy Torah.

I have often fantasized about the profound meaning of seeing an Israeli flag on the moon. Yet it occurs to me that we may have already achieved such cosmic prestige in other ways.

It was Ilan Ramon who took the ultimate Jewish flag to space. A tiny Torah scroll saved from the horrors of Bergen-Belsen — a testament to our strength, resilience and ability to thrive despite horror and tragedy.

Ilan Ramon holding a Torah on the Columbia Space Shuttle

Israel’s space sector functions so well in part because it understands its links to the Jewish people’s tragic history and remains aware that exploration of the future relies on foundations in the past. It tries not only to be a nes for the world, but also a degel for its own people.

In our personal lives, we all experience a kind of desolate wilderness. In such a wasteland, we would do well to pay attention to the banners that we raise for others. Moreover, we should be willing to fulfill our own more specific purposes.

As we proudly fly this flag we will merit to

“sing praises for Your salvation and let us assemble in flag formation in the name of our God”. נְרַ֚נְּנָ֨ה | בִּ֘ישׁ֚וּעָתֶ֗ךָ וּבְשֵׁם־אֱלֹקינוּ נִדְגֹּ֑ל

This article drew upon the following sources:

Rabbi David Wolpe *Jerusalem Post **— Parshat Bamidbar: Two Titles*

Arthur Herman **Mosaic Magaazine ***— Israel in Space*

Marco Jukic Palladium Magazine — *The Only Reason to Explore Space*

Rabbi Norman Lamm The Lamm Heritage Archives —* Banners in the Desert*

Rabbi Norman Lamm The Lamm Heritage Archives — *The Wilderness Within and Without*