“Nir’s Weekly Parasha” – Parashat Naso

Parashat Naso is the second portion in the Book of Numbers (Bamidbar). It is the longest parasha in the Torah and is always read on the Shabbat adjacent to the festival of Shavuot—either before or after. The portion presents a broad mosaic of content: from the census of the Levites and the leaders (nesi’im) of the tribes, to the laws of the Sotah (the suspected adulteress) and the Nazir (ascetic vow), the Priestly Blessing (Birkat Kohanim), and finally, the dedication of the Tabernacle (Mishkan) and the tribal offerings.

So much is happening—so much abundance—that the underlying structure is almost obscured.

And yet, it is precisely through this abundance that a certain systematic impulse emerges. The text seeks order. It assigns precise roles to the sons of Kohath, Gershon, and Merari; it details the offerings of the tribal leaders day by day—identical in every case; it specifies in exact terms the ritual ordeal of the Sotah, even when it borders on the unimaginable; and it formulates a concise Priestly Blessing that seeks shalom—peace—as a manifestation of divine and social order.

But why is this order so important to the authors of the text?

To understand that, we must recall: this portion was written in the context of a world shaped by political and social instability. Many scholars attribute parts of it to priestly authors—perhaps from the time of the United Monarchy, or even later, during the Second Temple period or the return from exile—eras in which the priests sought to reinforce their authority, stabilize society around a central sanctuary, ritual structure, spiritual hierarchy, and clear order. The obsession with structure, detail, and repetitive ritual is not incidental—it is born from a fear of chaos. The more the world trembles, the stronger the religious and social systems push to categorize, regulate, and assert control.

Parashat Naso seeks to impose order upon disorder. In a tribal, fragmented, desert society—where each tribe stands alone and each person carries their private fears—the parasha strives to build a collective. But not just any collective: one governed by strict roles, clear hierarchy, repeated rituals, rigid laws, and institutionalized blessings. Is this order comforting, or suffocating?

Sacred spaces such as ancient Shiloh, Shechem, the Temple Mount, and even modern national memorials in Israel tell a similar story: the human desire to impose meaning, cohesion, and control—precisely when the world around us feels like it’s falling apart.

And that raises a question that is both profound and timely:Is the order we create a response to fear?Or is it an expression of hope?

As Michel Foucault wrote:

“Society does not punish in the name of justice, but out of fear of disorder.”(Surveiller et punir, 1975)

And from a very different but complementary perspective, Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz taught:

“Holiness is not the peak of asceticism or ritual, but the state in which a person restores order to the world.”(Introduction to the Book of Numbers)

Photo: טקסים עושים סדר לאנשים - מופע הדגלנים בטקס(צילום: אולפני הרצליה)