I want to focus on a single word in this week’s parsha and explore its meaning and relevance for what happens at Maimonides School. The word is ויסעו, vayisu. It and various forms of the root נסע appear in this parsha nineteen times. Its core meaning is similar to “to pull up tent pegs.” It shades naturally into meaning more broadly “to decamp” or “to set out.” Given that the narrative of Bechukotai concerns the movement of B’nei Yisrael in the desert, it isn’t surprising to see it used so frequently. When the cloud lifts, indicating that it is time for the people to move to a new place, this is the verb that describes their movement.
There are many other verbs that could have been used. The connotations of this verb, however, tell us much more than the simple fact that the people are moving again. First, it conveys the sense that the places the people stop are never meant to be permanent. Israel is moving toward a permanent place to live, but these places in Sinai are not it. By design, each stop is a way-station, a place to rest and consolidate, but not a place to stay. Second, the word conveys a sense of trust in Hashem. Rather than stay in a place with essentials such as water and pasture, when G-d signals it is time to move on, the people literally “pull up stakes” (נסע) and move on. This physical action is grounded in spiritual and emotional trust; the people are allowing themselves to be led. Third, the word conveys a sense of carrying something significant. At the literal level, this can be the mishkan. More metaphorically, they are still carrying Egypt with them, something they will ultimately need to leave in the desert. Fourth, unlike הלך, walk, our word emphasizes the departure from a place rather than the journey itself, and it is typically a collective action rather than that of an individual.
This word, with all its connotations, has parallels in the work I see done every day at Maimonides. The process of learning is grounded in trust. Students need to trust teachers in order to learn. Teachers need to trust students in order to teach effectively. Students need to trust one another. And everyone at Maimonides needs to trust in the mission of the school, that we are headed toward a goal that transcends each of us. It is something that one can see in the classroom from the earliest ages.
The process of learning is very much one of hard travel, followed by consolidation, followed by pulling out the tent pegs and moving on. Just when students feel comfortable about what they have been taught, they are asked to tackle the next thing. It can often feel so far away. This process is repeated over and over from ages 2 through 18, and will continue long after they have left Maimonides. It behooves us educators to remember just how much our students, in order to keep learning, must live in a state of disequilibrium.
Like B’nei Yisrael, the children of Maimonides carry something with them to every stop along their journey of learning: the sense of community, the joy of Shabbat, a love of Israel, their sense of their place among their people. It is the bedrock, the firm foundation, that they carry with them throughout their journey of learning and growth.
And finally, as נסע connotes, learning is a collective experience. Students learn from each other. They learn from their teachers. Teachers learn from every student and from their colleagues. None of us can do the miraculous work of a Maimo education on our own. Together, leaning into our willingness to pull up stakes and travel on the next leg of the journey, we experience something extraordinary.
