Parashas Maasei begins with a brief introduction:
“These are the journeys of Bnei Yisrael who went out of Egypt in organized groups under the leadership of Moshe and Aharon. Moshe recorded their departures for their journeys according to Hashem’s command.”1
The parashah then proceeds to list all 42 encampments by name.
Several questions arise:
Why was it necessary to document the journeys and stops through the desert?
What exactly does the Torah intend to teach us with this pasuk? It seems redundant to mention that Moshe recorded this, as he recorded the entire Torah, and these journeys are part of it.
The Daas Sofrim explains that the Torah as a whole was primarily written for the generation that received it. However, Parashas Maasei was specifically written for all future generations to understand where we came from and what we went through.
Rashi explains, based on the Midrash Tanchuma, that the recounting of Bnei Yisrael's journeys can be compared to a king whose son was ill. The king took his son to a distant place to cure him, and upon their return, the father enumerated all the stages of their journey, saying, "Here we slept, here we caught cold, here you had the headache, etc." Similarly, Hashem instructed Moshe to enumerate all the places where the Bnei Yisrael angered Him.2
The Ksav vHaKabbala explains that, according to this Rashi, "their journeys" refers to specific incidents. The places mentioned in this portion were not populated areas, as the Torah testifies: "Who led you through the great and terrible wilderness, with venomous snakes and scorpions, a thirsty land where there was no water"3 and "a land through which no man passed, and where no human being lived"4. The Rambam wrote that the desert in which the Bnei Yisrael wandered was unlike other deserts near settled areas, where one could sustain oneself with agriculture and natural resources. This desert was so inhospitable that survival was naturally impossible, let alone for a group of about six hundred thousand people for forty years.
The names of the places of the journeys mentioned here are not inherent names that existed beforehand, they were given based on events that occurred when the Bnei Yisrael encamped there. It was customary to name places after events, as seen with Beit-el, Luz, and Beersheva. Similarly, the names of these journeys reflect significant events.
He further explains and echoes the opinion of the Ramban that Moshe wrote this down because Hashem instructed him to do so.
The Seforno writes that Hashem wanted all the journeys to be recorded to compliment the Jewish people who had followed Him through the desert, where nothing grew. This act of faith and perseverance deserved recognition, and as a reward for their faith, they would be worthy of entering and inheriting the land of Israel.
The Ohr Hachaim5 explains that the Torah wanted to inform us that Moshe did not record all these journeys in a single day. Instead, he recorded them as they occurred. Moshe began recording when he received instructions to lead Bnei Yisroel out of Egypt, noting the date of their departure from Raamses up until the word "שפטים" at the end of Pasuk 4. Once they made camp at Sukkot, Moshe wrote Pasuk 5. When they made camp at Eytan, Moshe wrote what transpired as Pasuk 6. In this manner, Moshe documented each journey as it happened until they arrived at the plains of Moav. At that point, Hashem instructed Moshe to include these private notes in the Torah in the order he had previously recorded them.
The Tiferes Shlomo writes that the greatest compliment a human being can receive is when Hashem says Torah in their name.6 This was the diary of Moshe, which was included in the Torah.
Writing a diary is an essential tool for growth. It allows us to look back and see where we have been, how we grew from there, and how we ended up where we are today.
Where have we gone? When did we arrive? What did we learn there? What was it like for us when we reached the holy places we desired to see or to which we were called? And do we answer those calls?
The Degel Machane Ephraim famously writes:
"I have heard—in the name of the Baal Shem Tov—that the forty-two journeys of the Bnei Yisrael are to be found in every person from the day of their birth until they return to their world [at death] . . . Each individual's birth should be understood within the context of Yetzias Mitzrayim and the subsequent stages of life are journeys that lead from place to place until one comes to the land of the 'supernal world of life' [that is, the Shechinah]." As it is written, "By the command of Hashem they encamped, and by the command of Hashem they traveled," representing stages of growth and contraction, as explained in the aforementioned section.
Certainly, the journeys were recorded in the Torah to show the proper path for a Jew to know the way to travel throughout their life, moving from stage to stage. It is known that all the journeys are aspects of holiness and purity. In the Torah, Moshe wrote how these journeys stand at the height of the world, from the beginning of a person's emergence from their mother's womb until they reach the higher Land of Life, so that a person may know the path to follow according to the instruction of Hashem.”
Just as with the journey of Bnei Yisrael from Mitzrayim to Eretz Yisrael, where Moshe kept a journal or a diary of the events that transpired, we too, in a microcosm of that journey, must keep a diary to record all the events that have taken place.
Journaling or keeping a diary is a powerful way to develop and cultivate self-awareness. Throughout Jewish history, journaling has been a tool of choice for many tzadikim. Shlomo Hamelech already alluded to the virtue of journaling in Mishlei: "Do not, my son, let kindness and truth forsake you. Bind them upon your neck like a necklace; write them upon the tablet of your heart."7 These are allegoric expressions of ideas that accompany a person wherever he turns, and which he remembers at all times.
We are fortunate to possess the diaries of Rav Yosef Karo zt”l, Rav Kook zt”l, Rav Tzadok HaKohen zt”l, the Chida zt”l, Rav Chaim Vital zt”l, Rav Ovadia Yosef zt”l, among others. Unfortunately, this practice seems to have been lost with the wear and tear of Galus, primarily because these diaries were generally kept private and only discovered after the death of their authors.
We find that journaling was mostly encouraged by those in the Chassidic world and those more immersed in Mussar and Machshava.
The Piacezna Rebbe, highlights8 the value of journaling and self-reflection. He imagines how wonderful it would be to live an additional seventy years beyond our allotted time, allowing us to fully enjoy the fruits of our lifelong efforts to educate and refine ourselves. However, life ends abruptly, leaving us with unfulfilled potential.
To address this, he suggests that we should document our thoughts and experiences—not as formal compositions but as personal reflections. By capturing the essence of our soul, its ups and downs, and all the understanding and growth we've achieved, we ensure that our inner journey lives on. This legacy can then be absorbed by future generations, allowing our spirit and wisdom to continue influencing and inspiring others long after we're gone. Through this process, our soul achieves a form of eternal life, as it is perpetuated and embodied by those who come after us.
Rav Kook wrote:
“Sometimes the only way for a person to uplift themselves from sadness is through journaling the thoughts of the heart.”9
Viktor Frankl expressed a similar idea: "The pessimist resembles a man who observes with fear and sadness that his wall calendar, from which he daily tears a sheet, grows thinner with each passing day. On the other hand, the person who actively tackles life's challenges is like a man who removes each successive leaf from his calendar and files it neatly and carefully away with its predecessors, after first jotting down a few diary notes on the back. He can reflect with pride and joy on all the richness set down in these notes, on all the life he has already lived to the fullest. What will it matter to him if he notices that he is growing old? Has he any reason to envy the young people he sees or feel nostalgic for his own lost youth? Instead of possibilities, I have realities in my past, not only the reality of work done and love experienced, but of sufferings bravely endured. These sufferings are the things of which I am most proud, though they cannot inspire envy."10
Journaling is widely recognized for its benefits to productivity and personal growth. In the HBR Guide to Getting the Right Work Done, the authors highlight the importance of an end-of-day review, suggesting that recording thoughts in a "mini-diary" can significantly boost productivity and well-being.
Despite feeling overloaded, taking just 10 minutes each day to jot down 100 words can be incredibly beneficial. The guide outlines five key advantages of keeping a work diary:
Track progress: Documenting "small wins" can boost motivation by reflecting on incremental achievements.
Plan: Use the diary to outline next steps.
Fuel personal growth: Process difficult events and gain new perspectives.
Sharpen focus: Identify patterns in your entries to better allocate time and energy.
Develop patience: Remind yourself of past perseverance during tough times.
Their research indicates that tracking progress is particularly crucial for productivity and mental well-being.
Like any exercise of the body, mind, or soul, consistency is key to journaling. By transferring thoughts from mind to paper, we gain clarity and free ourselves from mental clutter. Regular journaling offers the cumulative benefit of documented self-reflection, providing joy from reviewing how our thoughts and reflections have evolved over time.
Writing things down—whether on paper, in a diary, or on a computer—helps create clarity. Unpacking and unloading our feelings and thoughts is liberating and therapeutic, helping us declutter our minds and be real with ourselves.
The story of our current Galus and our lives today, mirrors the story of our time in the midbar. It is the story of what it means to be a Jew. As mentioned, the seforim teach us that each of the 42 stops represents every possible situation and foretells the experiences of the Jewish people as a whole and each individual specifically. This culminates in the number 42, which, as humorously noted in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, is the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything."
Rav Steinsaltz writes: "This is our story, which we will be able to read and understand only at the end of time when we reach the final station. Then we will receive the meaning of the map by which we have traveled, and this will enable us to explain our history and the events that have befallen us. The path from Egypt to the 'good and spacious land' is long and arduous, traversing 'the wilderness of the peoples.' Only at the end will we be able to understand both the 'going forth' and the 'journey'. Only then will we comprehend the meaning and the content of all our experiences over the years."11
On that great day, Hashem will reveal our diary, showing us all we accomplished on this bumpy and turbulent journey.
May we merit that day soon.
Bamidbar 33
Midrash Tanchuma 4:10:3, see also Midrash Lekach Tov)
Devarim 8:15
Yirmiyahu 2:6
Bamidbar 33:2
Tiferes Shlomo, Masei
3:3
Tsav VaZirus #1
Shmone Kevatsim 6:34
Man’s Search for Meaning - Part 2
Chayei Olam, Masei
Very nice. Keep up your writing ✍️
This was very meaningful to me and reminded me of how important it can be to take a little time to write.