We must do as the Torah commands, to make an accounting, to consider what’s the real purpose of every event

“Because Cheshbon was the city of Sichon, king of Amori, who fought against the king of Moav, taking his land… Therefore, hamoshlim, those who speak in parables, say, ‘Come to Cheshbon….’ ” (Bamidbar 21:26–27)

The word “hamoshlim” comes from the root mashal, a poet who speaks in parables. Yet Chazal comment (Bava Basra 78b) that this word also has the root “moshel,” and refers to those who rule over their yetzer hara.

Using this second meaning, the pasuk’s words, “Come to Cheshbon,” can mean: Let’s consider our cheshbonos, our accounts in This World, i.e., the losses and gains of our mitzvos or our transgressions. 

Yet we’re still left with a question: The second pasuk begins with, “Al ken, therefore,” obviously transitioning the first pasuk to the second. But what is the connection? (Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl).

When you get to a certain age, seeing a doctor can mean you need to share everything that ever occurred to your family since Maaseh Bereishis.

Showing up at a new office, I filled in a form that asked for so many details, it should’ve granted me citizenship in at least three countries.

The doctor himself was a crusty old Israeli who’d like to think he knows English. Glancing at my form he said, “So. You father Yekkeh, you mother Israeli. This is what we call intermarriage, yeah? Heh, heh.”

Actually, my mother was born in Palestine, before the Medinah was established, but that’s neither here nor there. Nor did I think it mattered if my great-grandmother ever had an ingrown toenail. But I laughed politely with the doctor and hoped he’d get to the point of our visit, fast.

Let’s imagine how the first pasuk would appear in modern-day headlines: “In a display of great military prowess, Sichon defeated his archenemy, Moav. This defeat is bound to alter the face of the Middle East. Experts say—”

What was truly behind this victory? We’re commanded not to provoke war with Moav. Therefore, the only way for us to capture this land was for another nation to capture it from Moav, and then Bnei Yisrael would defeat that second nation. Hashem caused Sichon to prevail over Moav so that the Jewish nation could eventually capture this piece of land from him.

Actually, my parents’ international marriage did lead to some funny moments, especially at family simchahs. Opa and Oma would be sitting at one end of the table, formal and quiet, while Zeidy would tell jokes in Yiddish with his Sabra bren, clapping Opa on the back as he cracked up. (Zeidy that is; Opa managed a small, polite smile.)

As a first-generation American, my personality has been influenced by this United Nation status as well. I’m a stickler for time, showing up at weddings before the chassan’s family. Yet at the same time, I’m a well of deep feelings, tearing up at my grandson’s gan party where he was dressed as an alef. Very emotional.

That’s the connection between the two pesukim. When the second pasuk says, “Therefore, let’s make an accounting,” it’s referring to the first pasuk about the war of Sichon with Moav. Why did this happen? Let’s make an accounting, realizing that everything Hashem does has a reason.

How many of the great military campaigns carried out by those kings does anyone remember? The only war recorded is this one involving Sichon and Moav. All other military accomplishments of that time are long forgotten. This one was significant, because Klal Yisrael is significant.

We must make an accounting of all the various wars and battles we see and all the news and politics we get swept into. We must do as the Torah commands, to make an accounting, to consider what’s the real purpose of every event. 

Still, the set of circumstances that brought my parents together has more significance to me than some personality quirks and customs. Even as a young girl, I often pondered the seemingly unrelated events that brought them both to America and eventually to marry. I knew it couldn’t have been random.

What if the Germans, yemach shemam, didn’t chase my father out of Germany?

What if the Arabs, yemach shemam, hadn’t chased my mother out of Eretz Yisrael?

Where and who would I be?

No matter what your age, these questions make one think. Go cheshbon.

 (Originally featured in Family First, Issue 849)