The people are reeling from the consequences of the Golden Calf. Moses, having pleaded with God to spare the Israelites, asks God to lead the people from the mountain and towards a new future. Soon the Israelites will begin their journey towards Canaan— but in this moment they are in limbo.

What do they see as they look out across the landscape? Do they see possibility and a future of promise and discovery? Or, are they standing feeling out of their depth, hesitating and afraid that wherever they place their feet the path will surely lead to disaster?

We imagine them poised in timeless suspended animation; a moment of transition as yet unrealised. It is a moment I think many of us are familiar with. The unfolding coronavirus pandemic is impacting us individually and communally; our synagogues have closed their doors; our children are not in school; our work lives have changed dramatically and some of us or our loved ones are sick. We are asking ourselves, what do we do next, what can we do for the best?

We too, like the Israelites in the desert, stand poised, deciding again and again which way to set off. We are asking ourselves if we have packed too lightly or perhaps are still carrying too much. Do we need to continue to carry the stuff of life that we cannot bear to let go of but which will, in truth, only make the journey more arduous.

We have found ourselves in the wilderness and being in the wilderness requires courageous navigation. Our streets and communities are changing rapidly and how we gather has also changed, for now. We may feel directionless, unanchored and cast adrift.

In this time of uncertainty, we may feel that we do not have a tested map to guide us, however we do have a spiritual road map. We have Torah. God gave the Torah in the wilderness because it belongs to n one and everyone. Torah is without borders. For the ancients, the wilderness was a place through which anyone could wander; a place where the Israelites faced challenge and connection with God.

We are told umi midbar matanah, “from the wilderness, Torah is given as a gift”. When we can open ourselves to the struggle and acknowledge our vulnerability, we can become like wilderness from which gifts are offered: gifts of hope, kindness, generosity and humility.

In this historical moment where borders are closing, and we are holding back from physical contact, let us hold on to hope. Let us hold on to the love from which Torah was given. Let us hold on to trust that we are God’s witness. We are God’s hands and feet as we reach out to those who needs each of us. Let each of us lead and lighten one another’s burden.