We count people, yes, but remember that people count

By Rabbi Josef Davidson

Published May 20, 2026

Sometime in the seventh or eight inning of a baseball game, fans learn the number of people in the stands for that game: “Tonight’s attendance: 47,137. Thank you for your attendance.”

Immediately, many in the stands are calculating the time it will take to make it through the crowd to their automobiles, the time it will take to leave the parking facility and the time it will take to get home. As a fan, one comes to view the others in attendance as impediments.

In physical education classes, we used to count off, and then all the No. 1’s would make up a group, the No. 2’s another group, and so on. It mattered very little who was assigned to which group; it mattered only that each group had the same number of individuals.

In my youth, one of the daily newspapers used to keep a running tabulation of traffic fatalities. During the Vietnam War, such a tabulation was kept of those who fell in battle or were wounded. Every 10 years, the U.S. takes a census of the nation’s population. How many people? Where do they live?

In each of these counts, people are counted as a group. They are rarely counted as individuals who count.

In Parshat Naso, the census that began in the previous week’s parashah, Bemidbar, continues, this time focusing on the census of the Levitical tribes. The Hebrew idiom for taking a census, from which the name of this parashah is derived, is Naso Et Rosh. Rather than employ a verb whose meaning is actually “to count,” this idiom literally means “Lift the head of.” What may one learn from this?

The first interesting lesson is the use of the word “head” rather than “heads.” In a census, groups of people are being counted, so why does the text read “lift the head?”

In daily life, it is so easy to feel as if one is simply a number, rather than an individual. At the bank, one needs to supply an account number and a driver’s license number for each transaction. In calling a business or government agency or service provider, the recording first asks for an account number. At the post office, at the license bureau or at some counters in the supermarket, the first thing one does is take a number by which one will be called for service. Eventually, each of these may get around to inquiring about one’s name.

The second interesting lesson is from the verb “to lift.” When walking among a large crowd of people, one often lowers one’s head and pushes through without being too conspicuous or getting too personal with others. People who are depressed often lower their heads indicating that they are feeling low. To lift the head of each individual in a group is to indicate that each one is valued, each of one is important, each one is an individual and not merely a number.

The lesson of this census and of the use of the idiom “to lift the head” is a valuable one for us to remember. The tone of our world today is to classify people into groups, usually in opposition to our own group, and to forget that individuals with their own talents, gifts, goals, values and issues make up those groups.

It is tempting to count heads rather than to lift them up. We live in a time when people are valued or devalued based on religion, ethnicity, race, country of origin, political party, economic status, or any other of a number of means by which we depersonalize others and devalue them. Parshat Naso instructs us “to lift the head of” members of any group, to see their value, to recognize their individuality, to affirm their worth.

People are not to be merely counted; they count!

Shabbat Shalom!