Ha’azinu

Deut. 32:1-52

 

Précis: The parasha, the shortest in the Five Books, containing only 52 verses, begins with the “Song of Moses,” a hymn sung by Moses within sight of the Promised Land. The song contrasts God’s fidelity with the faithlessness of the People, and the need of the People to learn from their history under God’s care. Moses predicts that Israel’s enemies will be overcome. He is told to climb a mountain to see the Promised Land he will not enter, as he prepares for his death. This is the last parasha read on Shabbat in the annual cycle: the final parasha (V’zot Habracha) is read traditionally on Simchat Torah.

 

This year, we read this parasha on Shabbat Shuvah, the Sabbath of Repentance (or Return) which comes between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The opening verses of this poem are filled with an emotion which we do not normally associate with the Days of Awe: gratitude. Moses thanks God for providing everything, for creating the Jewish People, for saving them through the wilderness, and giving them the Land of Israel.

As pointed out by Rabbi Dr. Mordechai Schiffman, (Torah of Character, 9/20/24), there are several inhibitors to gratitude. We don’t want to feel indebted, and we are slow to acknowledge our dependence on others. Envy can create dissatisfaction with one’s own lot, making it hard to appreciate the blessings we have. Finally, Schiffman states, “Arrogance is the most pernicious trait that obstructs gratitude” because it creates a sense of entitlement. We are often so caught up in the tasks of daily life that we fail to appreciate the blessings we have.
            This year, with the horrors we witnessed last October, with Israel at war on three fronts, with antisemitism on the rise in America and around the world, and with the fate of the American experiment seemingly at stake, it is perhaps one of the most difficult times to feel gratitude.

              Nevertheless, finding the ability to be grateful for the blessings we do have is certainly part of t’shuvah. We awaken each morning and tradition tells us to say the Modeh ani prayer: I offer thanks to You, God, for You have restored my soul within me. Gratitude may be an acknowledgement that some of us have survived serious illness. Gratitude may be found in the acts of compassion and service we can undertake every day. Gratitude can be found in long-enduring friendships and in consolation in times of difficulty. Gratitude can be found in the love one feels for one’s soul-mate.

We don’t know what will happen tomorrow, next week, next month, or next year. But we can be grateful for the blessings we have right now, this moment, this second: the love of others, and those blessings that God has provided. May God provide all of us with the blessing of gratitude in the year to come.

Nitzavim-Vayeilech

Deut. 29:9 -31:31

 

Précis: Moses continues to address the People: You stand (nitzavim) this day before Adonai. In his final words to the People, Moses recounts the wonders Adonai had done for them, and calls upon them to remain loyal to God by observing the Covenant. The extent of the relationship is explained: it will survive exile and captivity with a return to the Land. The Torah is an “open book” that is accessible to all. A blessing and a curse have been set before the People, and Moses urges them to choose the blessing, to choose life.

In the second parasha the Israelites are instructed to annihilate the seven Canaanite nations and take possession of the Promised Land. The death of Moses approaches, and he transfers his mantle of leadership to Joshua. Moses orders regular reading of the Law, and then transfers the written Torah into the hands of the Levites for safekeeping in the Ark of the Covenant.

 

Deut. 29:13-14 “Not with you alone am I making this covenant and oath; with you who are standing here with us today before the Lord our God I make it, and with those, too, who are not with us today.”

 

       Writing for Covenant and Conversation (9/22/22), Rabbi Sacks declares that this reading goes to the heart of Judaism. Moses is about to die, and he knows he will not accompany the People to the Promised Land. Because almost all of those who had entered into the Covenant died during four decades in the Wilderness, Moses believes that he must renew the covenant between the people and God.

            But “those who are not with us today” cannot mean Israelites alive at the time who were somewhere else.  Sacks notes that it must mean that the entire nation was present at Sinai, and as the Talmud states, it includes generations not yet born.

Therefore, we Jews (with the exception of Jews-by-choice) do not choose to be Jewish. We are born Jews, and upon reaching the age of maturity, we are part of the Covenant. In short, we have no choice in being Jewish: that choice was made more than 3,000 years ago at Sinai. But how can we be bound by what the Israelites said so long ago? The idea that in some mystical way we were all at Sinai is to me unsatisfactory.  

For most of history, Jewish identity was not a choice. It was really only in 15^th century Spain that being Jewish became something of a choice (as in, convert, die, or leave). Sacks says that a subsequent verse makes it clearer: In Deut.30:19 we read: “I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you today. I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life – so that you and your children may live…”

Judaism is unique because, as Moses advises, we can in fact choose life. Our fate is not fixed by our DNA, the stars, or anything else. Choices are placed before us every day. Can you eat this and not that? Can you exercise spiritually three times a day? Can you rest one day in seven? Can you defer the gratification? Can you practice self-control?

Choose life. Our belief holds all humans in the highest regard. We are neither better than nor worse than others. We are simply different. As Sacks concludes, “Why Judaism? Because there is no more challenging way of choosing life.”