Sermon given May 30, 2026

Shabbat shalom, everyone.

So, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. Lots of things happening, health-wise, house-wise, relationship-wise, LIFE-wise-- so I hope you will humor me when I say that my sermon this week may sound a little less straightforward than normal. (Whatever “normal” for me is!)

Essentially, I want to talk about two things that have been on my mind this past week or two, and then I want to pull them together.

The first thing I want to talk about is the concept of Chosenness. 

The concept of Chosenness has a lot of weight for us Jews as a people-- aka “The Chosen People”. 

At our last Text with a Twist class before the summer, the conversation followed many wonderful tangents including, ultimately, the phrase “the Chosen People.” Several people in the class shared that they were raised to believe that being the Chosen People did, indeed, mean on some level that Jews were “better”-- even though we also acknowledged as a class that that interpretation didn’t sit well with us. We Jews know what it’s like to have others think that they are better than us, so it doesn’t seem fitting for us to believe we are better in return. 

However, there are indeed those who believe that being a member of “the chosen people” suggests superiority in God’s eyes. This can even be a malicious or antisemitic interpretation, intentionally aiming to paint Jews as power-hungry or exclusive. But at the same time, traditional and literal interpretations of our liturgy and Scripture could also believably be read this way. It’s not always comfortable to think about, but it’s important that we acknowledge the power of the words we say, especially in sacred spaces.   

For example, when we just read the Torah, the aliyah blessing says asher bachar banu mikol ha’amim-- literally, calling God “the one who chose us out of all of peoples of the world”. We say the same thing on Fridays during Kiddush. We also have Scripture that echoes a similar message, such as this verse from Exodus:

וְעַתָּ֗ה אִם־שָׁמ֤וֹעַ תִּשְׁמְעוּ֙ בְּקֹלִ֔י וּשְׁמַרְתֶּ֖ם אֶת־בְּרִיתִ֑י וִהְיִ֨יתֶם לִ֤י סְגֻלָּה֙ מִכׇּל־הָ֣עַמִּ֔ים כִּי־לִ֖י כׇּל־הָאָֽרֶץ׃

“And now, if you listen to my voice and guard my covenant, you shall be treasured from out of all peoples, for the whole world is mine.” 

This verse doesn’t use the word “chosen”, but it still suggests that if we fulfill the commandments, we will be treasured-- segula-- by God, “out of all the other nations.”

And then there are prayers, like Aleinu:

“She lo asanu c’goyei ha’ratzot

V’lo samanu c’mishpachot ha’adama”

We praise the one who, quote, “did not make us like the other nations and did not place us like the families of the Earth.”

That one makes me cringe a bit. I have a separate and longer talk we could have about Aleinu at some point, but let’s just say, this sort of interpretation of Chosenness does not sit well with me, nor does it line up with my understanding of basic human values and dignity as outlined in our Torah. The Torah teaches that we are all made btzelem elohim, in the image of God, regardless our ancestry. I don’t believe that Jews somehow get a higher percentage of the Divine in our genetic or spiritual makeup. And, the last thing I want to do is offer fuel or ammo to antisemitism, or give another reason for other groups to think Jews are bad.   

And thankfully, I’m not the only one to reject such a belief of ethnosuperiority. The prophet Amos, thousands of years ago, invoked God, saying:

“To Me, O Israelites, you are

Just like the Cushites

—declares GOD.

True, I brought Israel up

From the land of Egypt,

But I also brought up the Philistines from Caphtor

And the Arameans from Kir.”

In other words, God is clearly saying that God’s love and guidance dwells with all peoples of the Earth.

This rejection of superior ethnocentrism is upheld by commentators like Rashi, who declared “Now do not say that you alone belong to God and that God has no other peoples together besides you.” In modern times, the Conservative Movement has also rejected interpreting Chosenness as a badge of superiority or exclusion, publicly stating in the 1980s that, quote “Few beliefs have been subject to as much misunderstanding as the 'Chosen People' doctrine. The Torah and the Prophets clearly stated that this does not imply any innate Jewish superiority.” 

And yet still, the phrase “the Chosen people” persists. And since that Text with a Twist class, I have been processing my own discomfort with the phrase as well as the experiences shared by TBE congregants. 

And this is where we get to the second topic of this sermon. Like I said, I promise you, the two topics will dovetail.

The first topic was Chosenness, and the second topic the root of the word “Naso”, the title of this week’s Torah portion. The root of “Naso” is nun, sin, aleph, and it has several meanings in our Torah portion-- among them, to count. 

In our Torah portion today, as has happened several times already since B’nai Yisrael left Egypt, counting is happening, and it’s important. We’re having yet another census ordered by God. In this week’s census, several different Israelite tribes are first counted and then assigned special tasks, different from each other’s.   

We begin with the verse:

נָשֹׂ֗א אֶת־רֹ֛אשׁ בְּנֵ֥י גֵרְשׁ֖וֹן גַּם־הֵ֑ם לְבֵ֥ית אֲבֹתָ֖ם לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתָֽם׃

Also, count (that take a census of) the heads of the clan of Gershon according to their heads of household and families. 

Ibn Ezra points out that gam, or “also”, is an important word in this verse because it underscores the repetitive nature of these clan-specific directives and the fact that we are continuing an already-underway conversation. Our parasha this week started smack-dab in the middle of handing out duties to each tribe. We had literally just several verses previously heard all about the specific requirements for the Kohathites, at the end of the previous parashah. And now, next up on the list: Gershonites! And then later in our parashah, the Merarites, etc etc. Each tribe is counted, and in that moment, each tribe has its moment of focus in our Torah.   

And in that moment of focus, each tribe is given different responsibilities. For the Kohathites, their responsibilities had to do with handling the most sacred objects, the kodesh kodeshim. But for the Gershonites, their assigned tasks were far simpler-- mainly just carrying poles-- the verb ‘carry’ also has the root nun, sin, aleph-- carrying skins, and the like. The same for the Merarites, who are named just a few verses later-- a lot of carrying, and a lot less contact with the holiest objects. All of these clans were subject to the direction of the Levites, who we know have been given significant responsibilities as priests.

So in a sense, we are seeing a different kind of Choosing happening here, but instead of the Israelites being Chosen compared to other peoples, different tribes are being Chosen for different responsibilities and roles. 

And in a few weeks we will see that these countings and tribal divisions did not sit well with some of the Israelites. Soon, Korach, a favorite Torah antagonist, will state his case against Moses and attempt to change the fate of his clan. Now, as we know, he is going to be successful in changing his fate, but not at all in the way he had hoped-- instead of gaining more power, he is swallowed by the Earth. 

But it is clear from Korach’s claims that he does not feel as Chosen as other Israelites. He feels that the distinctions between different members of Bnai Yisrael are unfair and hierarchical. He feels lesser and excluded. Accusing Moses, Korach says, quote:

 וּמַדּ֥וּעַ תִּתְנַשְּׂא֖וּ עַל־קְהַ֥ל יְהֹוָֽה:     

     “And why do you raise yourselves above the rest of God’s people?”

Fascinatingly, though, the verb Korach uses in this verse, titnasu, to raise yourself up, has the same root as the word that gives this week’s Torah portion, Naso, its name. That means that the same Hebrew root, nun sin aleph, can be tied to both counting, like in this week’s parasha, and carrying, like the tent poles, AND lifting or raising someone up, like in Korach. 

But the real power of the word Naso, of the root nun sin aleph, is that its usage in our parasha underscores the interdependence of all of those who are being counted and lifted up.  None of the counting or assigning could happen if we were only talking about one person or one group.     

The sacred type of counting, from the root nun sin aleph, that is so prevalent in Naso and in the entire book of Numbers (hence the name) is so much more than just saying “one, two, three”. Instead, the type of Counting that God instructs the Israelites to do means that not only do we count one, two, three, but we also make sure that each person and tribe, one, two, three, and more, are sanctified and seen and lifted up as important parts of the whole. Each tribe is Counted for something else, yes; but each type of Counting comes together to form a functioning sacred society. In effect, God is looking at each tribe and saying: “You count.”   

This is part of why it does not work when someone like Korach thinks he is more important than others or tries to grab power instead of lifting up his fellows. He does not believe that Moses’ role and responsibility counts. He does not see and value and lift up those around him. He does not count the value and worth of the other tribes. 

And this is where the dovetailing of our two themes really takes form. The root nun sin aleph, naso, with its twin meanings of counting and lifting ourselves and each other up, verbalizes beautifully the nuance that for me, the word “Chosen” lacks. Where Chosen carries at least the intimation or potential for superiority, Counted acknowledges that we matter and are seen and are values-- and that we are not alone in that state.   

So my chutzpadik suggestion is that maybe, instead of the Chosen People, we should be The Counted People. Or maybe-- even better-- we should be The Counting People. Maybe, the real lesson we take from the dual meaning of the root nun, sin, aleph is that it is Godly to truly see others, and then to lift them up, and to understand that by doing so we are actually strengthening something beyond us. Perhaps in some way, we can each recommit to going about our lives, in this hurting world, in a way that makes others feel truly seen, and truly lifted up. 

Regardless of whether we call it choosing, or counting, or lifting up, or something else entirely-- what is clear is that God has sacred relationships in many ways with many different people. This is a fact of our world external to Judaism and internally, amongst ourselves. And it is our job, in the spirit of Naso, to see people for who they are, as they are, and then to lift them up and honor their connection to the Divine, knowing regardless of whether we are Orthodox or Conservative or Reform, whether Jewish or Christian or Muslim or Hindu-- no matter what,

We all count.

Shabbat shalom.