The War We Fight, The Journey We Remember - Parashat Mattot-Mas'ei

The double portion of Mattot-Mas'ei closes the book of B'midbar with two seemingly different stories. Mattot recounts a war against Midian, while Mas'ei records the forty-two stations of the people of Israel’s journey through the wilderness. One parashah confronts an enemy, the other traces a path. Together they ask a single question: What kind of people are we becoming as we travel through history?

That question feels painfully urgent in America today.

This past July 4th–the 250th anniversary of the United States–a Reuters photograph captured Bernita Bowlding, a Black woman seated alone on a Washington DC Metro train, surrounded by masked members of Patriot Front, a white nationalist organization that had marched through the capital carrying American and Confederate symbols and chanting “Reclaim America.” The image spread across the world because it condensed a national argument into a single frame: one uncovered Black face surrounded by a sea of masked men claiming ownership of the American story. 

Parashat Mattot helps us understand why that image struck such a nerve. The Torah’s war with Midian is not presented merely as a territorial conflict. Midian represents an ideology that sought to seduce Israel away from its mission and dissolve its moral boundaries. The battle concerns memory, loyalty, and the future of the community. In every generation, Jews encounter forces that insist some people belong more fully than others, that dignity belongs to a chosen few, and that power determines worth.

The ideological struggle visible in that Metro photograph carries echoes of that ancient conflict. Patriot Front’s public message frames America as a nation fundamentally belonging to people of European descent, while Black Americans know a different history: enslaved labor built the country, Black soldiers defended it, Black movements expanded its freedoms, and Black citizens repeatedly had to fight for rights that were promised in theory and withheld in practice. The argument concerns the meaning of America itself and who gets counted within its covenant of citizenship. 

For African-American Jews, the question becomes even more layered. We carry the memory of Egypt and the memory of the Middle Passage. We hear the Torah command, “Remember that you were strangers,” and we hear the spirituals asking whether freedom will ever reach the captive. We know what it means to stand inside a nation and still wonder whether the nation sees you fully.

That is why the image of Bernita Bowlding feels so haunting. She sits calmly, uncovered, visible, and unmistakably herself while those around her hide their faces. Jewish tradition has long understood that evil often seeks anonymity while covenant demands accountability. The Torah repeatedly calls Israel to stand before G'd with faces uncovered, names recorded, and responsibilities accepted.

Then the Torah shifts dramatically. Parashat Mas'ei lists the forty-two stations of Israel’s wilderness journey, naming place after place with careful attention. The Torah could have summarized the journey in a few verses, yet it records every stop because each station became part of the people’s formation. Some places held miracles, some held rebellion, some held grief, and some held growth. Together they formed a map of becoming.

African-American history can be read through a similar map. The journey moves through plantations, freedom camps, Reconstruction towns, Black churches, HBCUs, migration routes, civil-rights marches, neighborhoods built and destroyed, and communities rebuilt again. Each stop leaves a mark on the collective soul. 

The story does not move in a straight line. It moves through wilderness stations where a people learns endurance, creativity, faith, and solidarity.

For Eidot CHeMDaT”A Jewry, the language of Mas'ei carries particular power. Our community stands at the intersection of multiple journeys: African-American history, Jewish history, and the ongoing search for a home where both identities are treated as complete and inseparable. Many African American Jews know the experience of moving between communities, translating themselves repeatedly, and searching for a place where no part of the soul must be left at the door. The wilderness itinerary of Mas'ei becomes a spiritual autobiography. Every station, even the difficult ones, contributes to the formation of a people capable of carrying Torah in a distinctive voice.

Our story belongs fully to the history of the Jewish people and fully to the history of African Americans. We carry the memory of Sinai alongside the memory of slavery in America. We inherit the destruction of the Temples alongside the destruction of Black communities. We celebrate the Exodus while remembering the Underground Railroad, the Great Migration, and every generation that transformed suffering into faithfulness. Like every Jewish community throughout history, Eidot CHeMDaT”A Jewry developed within a particular historical landscape while remaining inseparably bound to the destiny of K’lal Yisrael. The forty-two stations of Mas'ei remind us that every Jewish community possesses its own wilderness itinerary, and every faithful journey enriches the larger story of Israel.

Mattot teaches that every generation must discern the ideologies it cannot accommodate. Mas'ei teaches that every generation must remember the journeys that formed it.

Shabbat Shalom.