Every year, just before Shavuot, we read Parashat Bemidbar. At first glance, the parasha look “boring and technical” The lists of tribes, the population numbers, the camping arrangements, and the family names. But the timing of this parasha reading, before Shavuot, is not accidental.

Shavuot celebrates the giving of the Torah at Sinai — the moment the Jewish people became not merely descendants of Abraham, but a nation bound by purpose and shared destiny. And just before that moment, Parashat Bemidbar asks a profound question: Who counts?

The answer is: everyone.

The Torah counts each individual Jew, tribe by tribe, family by family. In a world where people are often valued for wealth, influence, social standing, or visibility, parasha Bemidbar insists that every person matters simply because they are part of the story.

That message speaks powerfully to modern Jewish life, especially in our society where success is often measured externally — by homes, careers, philanthropy, networks, or image. There is nothing wrong with achievement.

Judaism has never romanticized poverty or rejected beauty. But this parasha quietly reminds us that identity cannot rest only on status. A person can have everything and still wonder: Where do I truly belong?

The Hebrew word “Bemidbar” literally means “in the wilderness.” The desert is ownerless. Empty. Quiet. It strips away distractions. The rabbis taught that the Torah was given in the wilderness because spiritual truth can only be received when a person creates inner space — when ego softens enough to hear something beyond themselves.

That idea feels remarkably relevant today. We live in an age of constant noise: endless notifications, social comparison, public performance, and show off.

Shavuot arrives each year and asks us to pause long enough to hear a deeper voice, asking..

What am I living for?

What values guide my family?

What kind of legacy am I building?

What does it mean to be Jewish beyond culture, food and nostalgia?

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Refael Cohen