The Past Does Not Need to Define us

Vayigash

Gen. 44:18 - 48:27

 

Précis: We approach the end of the Joseph saga. Benjamin is being held by Joseph as the alleged thief of a gold cup. Judah comes near (vayigash) Joseph, and begs for his brother’s life, offering himself as a substitute. Joseph is overcome and reveals himself to his brothers, forgiving them for selling him into slavery, stating that it was all part of God’s plan. Joseph sends them back home to bring Jacob and their families down to Egypt to survive the upcoming famine. They comply, and Joseph arranges for them to reside in the land of Goshen, living off “the fat of the land” at Pharaoh’s insistence. During the remainder of the famine, Joseph purchases land and cattle for Pharaoh, making serfs of the Egyptian people in exchange for the grain stored during the seven years of plenty. The Israelites prosper and multiply.

Gen. 45:14-15 “Then he [Joseph] threw his arms around his brother Benjamin and wept, and Benjamin embraced him, weeping. And he kissed all his brothers and wept over them. Afterward his brothers talked with him.”

Vayigash teaches us that reconciliation is always possible. At the outset of the tale, Joseph’s brothers could not speak peaceably to him. They were on the verge of killing him before selling him into slavery. Can one imagine any more hateful actions among siblings? Can one imagine the feelings of their father when he eventually learned of their hatred and their awful lies about Joseph’s death?

            Here, some would say that Joseph was being merely magnanimous. But there is much more at play here. He is not stuck justifying his own painful story. This seemingly happy reunion still contains serious elements of doubt among the brothers. The older brothers need more time to renegotiate their relationship with Joseph, especially after their father Jacob dies. Only through years of effort and confidence building does true reconciliation occur.

This is a truth which most families will face at one time or another. Reconciliation is not achieved by a single step or by some grand gesture. It is a process. The past does not need to define us.  With hard work, we may be blessed so that the past is no longer the present. 

Recognition

 Mikketz

Gen. 41:1-44:17

Précis: At the end (mikketz) of two years of Joseph’s imprisonment, Pharaoh dreams of cows and ears of corn. The butler who had shared Joseph’s cell now remembers him and calls him from prison. Joseph predicts seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine. Pharaoh is so impressed that he appoints Joseph as his chief vizier and Joseph goes about storing grain during the times of plenty.

            Joseph marries Asenath and they have two sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. When the famine comes, Jacob sends his sons to Egypt to purchase food. Joseph has them brought in while he remains in cognito. He accuses the brothers of spying and sends them home after they leave one brother hostage and promise to return with their youngest brother, Benjamin. Upon their return, the brothers (including Benjamin) meet the still unrevealed Joseph. Joseph has their bags filled not only with grain but also with the money used to purchase the grain and has a gold cup hidden in Benjamin’s belongings. When they are “caught” by Joseph’s men, they learn that whoever stole the cup would become Joseph’s slave, while the others would return to their homeland. On this cliffhanger, the parasha ends.

 

Gen. 42:8 “And Joseph recognized his brothers but they did not recognize him.”

 

Rabbi Sacks reminds us that “The Torah is a deep book” (Rabbi Sacks Legacy,12/14/23). We err by reading the text superficially. 22 years before, a slim teenager was thrown into a pit by the brothers. Now in front of them is a regally dressed man with an Egyptian name who rules Egypt. He looks nothing like they remember their brother, so why should they recognize him? Sibling rivalry is a leitmotif in Genesis, from Cain and Abel to Isaac and Ishmael to Jacob and Esau, and now to Joseph and his brothers. The sibling rivalry among these brothers is a premonition of today’s reality.

While Judaism was the world’s first monotheism, two other “siblings” emerged (Christianity and Islam), claiming descent from Abraham. Judaism (and the Jewish People) have played the role of the despised brother. While over millennia there have been occasions of acceptance, much of history is that of Joseph’s: expulsion or murderous intent from our “siblings.”

When the modern State of Israel came into existence in 1948, Israel sought peace with its “brother” nations. The “brothers” denied then​, and continue to deny its existence. There are scores of Islamic nations, and all but a rare few refuse to recognize Israel, a vivid reminder of how Joseph’s brothers failed to recognize him. Until this version of sibling rivalry ends, Israel and the Jewish People remain in danger.

At the end of the Joseph saga, Joseph is finally “recognized” by his brothers, and they can live together in peace. So may it be in our times.       

Accountability

Vayeshev

Gen. 37:1 - 40:23

 

Précis: The story of Joseph (the longest narrative in the Five Books) begins with the words, “And Jacob dwelt (vayeshev) in the land of his father’s travels.” Joseph is Jacob’s favorite son and receives the famous coat of many colors. He dreams and relates them to his brothers and father, creating additional concern and jealousy on their parts. The sons conspire to do away with Joseph, but before he dies, they sell him into slavery. Jacob is devastated when the sons present “evidence” of Joseph’s “death.” 

            We then have an intervening story about Judah, who marries off his first son to Tamar. The son soon dies, and the next son, Onan, is married to the widow (“levirate marriage.”) He too dies, and Judah is loath to offer another third son. The widow dresses as a harlot, seduces Judah, becomes pregnant, and reveals herself to Judah as a woman wronged. He acknowledges her as a rightful daughter.

            The scene shifts back to Joseph, who is now a servant in the household of Potiphar, an Egyptian official. Potiphar’s wife attempts to seduce Joseph, but he refuses her advances. She accuses him of attempted rape, and Joseph is tossed into prison. There, he meets jailed servants of Pharaoh, for whom he interprets dreams. When the chief butler is restored to his post, he promises to “remember” Joseph, but the parasha ends with the words, “but he forgot him.”

 

Gen. 40:20-22 “On the third day – his birthday – Pharoah made a banquet for all his officials, and he singled out his chief cupbearer and his chief baker from among the officials. He restored the chief cupbearer to his position, and he placed the cup in Pharaoh's hand, but the chief baker he impaled, just as Joseph had interpreted to them.”

 

Why are the two officials treated differently? A clue appears in Midrash (Bereshit Rabbah, 88:2) which states that the cupbearer and the baker were in jail because they didn't do their jobs properly. The cupbearer served Pharaoh wine with a fly in it. The baker made bread that contained splinters of wood. The cupbearer was eventually pardoned and allowed to return to his work because Pharaoh’s counselors determined that he could not have prevented the fly from landing in the Pharaoh’s goblet. The baker, however, was put to death because the splinters could only have gotten into the bread through his own carelessness.

This offers an insight which remains applicable today. One who acts wrongly (though innocently) is not to be held responsible for his error. On the other hand, one who acts wrongly through carelessness or intentionality is responsible for his actions. This we call “accountability.”

Revenge or justice?

 Vayishlach

Gen. 32:4 - 36:43

Précis: As he nears his return to his homeland, Jacob sent (vayishlach) messengers to Esau to ascertain Esau’s state of mind after their 20-year separation. While he awaits a reply, Jacob encounters an “adversary” (most assume an angel) with whom Jacob wrestles through the night. As dawn breaks, the adversary announces that Jacob’s name is to be changed to Israel: “He who wrestles with God.” On the following day, Esau approaches, and despite Jacob’s fears, there is a happy reunion.​ We then read the story of how a local prince rapes Dinah, Jacob’s daughter, and then asks to marry her. Jacob agrees on condition that all men of the city are circumcised. While the men are recovering, Jacob’s sons Simon and Levi attack the city and kill all of the inhabitants in revenge for the insult to their sister. Jacob soon travels to Beth-el (the site of his ladder dream), and on the way, Rachel gives birth to Benjamin and dies in childbirth. Thereafter, Isaac’s death is noted, as is his burial by Esau and Jacob. The parasha ends with a genealogy of Esau and his descendants.

Gen. 34:33 “And it happened on the third day, while they were recovering, that Jacob’s two sons, Simeon and Levi, Dinah’s brother, each took his sword, and came upon the city unopposed, and they killed every male.”

            Whether or not the brothers acted properly in seeking revenge for the harm done to their sister has been debated for centuries. Most traditional commentators see it as​ ​permitted. Maimonides sees justification in the slaying of Dinah’s rapist (after all, she was raped!) but is not quite as certain about killing the other men of Shechem. He comes down on the side of the brothers, noting that the townsmen failed to bring the rapist to justice. Under his view, all human beings are obligated to obey the Seven Laws of Noah, one of which is to establish legal systems of justice. When the men of Shechem failed to do this, he concludes that their deaths were justified.
            It is an important principle. A society is obligated to create a system of justice. Those who attempt to undercut an established justice system may not merit extermination but do certainly merit condemnation. As is noted in Lev.19, we cannot stand by idly when justice is perverted.

Particularly galling

 Vayetze

Gen. 28:10-33:3

 

Précis: As Jacob travels towards the household of his uncle Laban, he dreams of a ladder (or ramp) to heaven, with angels ascending and descending. Jacob meets and falls in love with Laban’s younger daughter, Rachel. Laban agrees to the match if Jacob works for him for seven years. Laban switches the older daughter, Leah, for Rachel; Jacob works an additional seven years for Rachel’s hand. Jacob then works for Laban another six years and acquires great wealth and flocks. During the stay with Laban, most of the children of Jacob are born. At the conclusion of the parasha, after tense negotiations with Laban, Jacob leaves with his possessions and family.

 

Gen. 30:1-2 “When Rachel saw that she had borne Jacob no children, she became envious of her sister, and Rachel said to Jacob ‘Give me children, or I shall die.’ Jacob was incensed at Rachel and said, ‘Can I take the place of God, who has denied you fruit of the womb?’”

Rabbi Melissa Crespy has written a d’var about Rachel’s prayer and Jacob’s rebuke (MyJewishLearning.com, 12/6/16).

            She calls Jacob’s reaction “particularly galling.”  Rachel is the wife whom he loves deeply, and she is a woman who has seen her sister Leah bear Jacob three sons. Crespy cites Midrash Rabbah (71:7): “Said the Holy One, Blessed be God, to him [Jacob]: ‘Is that a way to answer a woman in distress?’”

            Subsequent Sages attempted to explain or soften Jacob’s response, suggesting that Jacob spoke out of frustration and that he intended to explain to her that she should make her request to God, and not to him. Nevertheless, Jacob’s response to a woman in distress was at best unkind.

            I cannot help but think of the scores of women who have been subjected to far worse treatment than mere words: the victims of Jeffrey Epstein and his fellow users of girls and women. I frankly cannot fathom the response of some that they doubt the claims of these distressed women. To borrow a phrase from Rabbi Crespy, it is particularly galling.

           

The need to be open

 Toldot

Gen. 25:19-28:9

 

Précis: The introductory phrase to this parasha is “These are the generations (“toldot”) of Isaac.” What follows is the birth of the twins, Esau and Jacob. Their childhood is omitted from the narrative. We learn that Jacob is a quiet man while Esau is a cunning hunter, that their mother Rebecca prefers Jacob, and that Isaac prefers Esau. Esau sells his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of porridge (or lentils). A famine takes place, and Isaac visits the Philistines where he claims that Rebecca is his sister (as Abraham did with Sarah in Lech Lecha) and again, the woman escapes unharmed. The story turns to the “great deception” where Jacob pretends to be Esau to obtain the primary blessing from his father Isaac. Esau hates Jacob and threatens him; Rebecca urges Jacob to escape to her family in Haran, and he sets off at the conclusion of the parasha.

 

Gen. 27:8-10 “Now, my son, listen carefully and do what I tell you: Go now to the flock and bring me two choice young goats, so I can prepare some tasty food for your father, just the way he likes it. Then take it to your father to eat, so that he may give you his blessing before he dies.”

 

Rabbi Sacks asks a question most of us probably overlook: Why did Rebecca tell Jacob to deceive Isaac and take Esau’s blessing (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 11/28/24)? While we may often ask how Jacob could deceive his father, Sacks suggests we focus on Rebecca, since it was her plan, not his. How could she order her son to deceive her husband and deprive Esau of his blessing?  

            Three possible answers are provided: She was driven by her love for Jacob, her favorite. Second, she felt that Esau was the wrong person to inherit the mantle from Abraham and Isaac. The third answer is that she believed the prophecy she received prior to the twins’ birth: "Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples from within you will be separated; one people will be stronger than the other, and the older will serve the younger.” (Gen. 25:23)

            All three answers are potential explanations for her conduct. But all three assume that Rebecca never shared her feelings about the birthright with her husband. But why not?

Sacks cites the Netzev (R. Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin,1816-1893) for a comment on last week’s parasha. When Rebecca set eyes on her husband-to-be, she veiled herself. The Netzev suggests she veiled herself out of awe and a sense of inadequacy. “Her relationship with Isaac was not the same as that between Sarah and Abraham or Rachel and Jacob. When they had a problem they were not afraid to speak about it. Not so with Rebecca.”

Netzev explains that the description of their first meeting emphasizes distance in every sense. Isaac is physically far away when Rebecca spots him. He is also mentally far away: meditating, deep in thought and prayer. Rebecca imposes her own distance by covering herself with a veil. Distance is the harbinger of their relationship.

We additionally know that Isaac is the most withdrawn of the patriarchs, most usually the object of others’ actions. Perhaps this is why he prefers Esau, a man of action (as well as Rebecca, another person of action).

Sacks states, “Rebecca felt unable to share with Isaac the oracle she had received before the twins’ birth and the doubts she had about Esau’s suitability for the blessing. Her inability to communicate led to the deception, which brought a whole series of tragedies in its wake, among them the fact that Jacob was forced to flee for his life, as well as the counter-deception perpetrated against him by his father-in-law Laban.”

This tragic story of good intentions provides a stark and important moral: honesty and openness are at the heart of strong relationships. 

Kindness

 Chaye Sarah

Gen. 23:1-25:18

 

Précis: The parasha begins with the counting the days of the life of Sarah (Chaye Sarah) and with her death. It continues with a detailed description of the purchase of the cave of Machpelah by Abraham for a family burial site. Abraham orders his servant to go to Abraham’s ancestral home to obtain a wife for Isaac, and after a series of fulfilled signs, including watering of his camels, the servant finds Rebecca. Rebecca returns with the servant; she and Isaac meet, fall in love at first sight, and become man and wife. The parasha ends with the death of Abraham, and his burial by Isaac and Ishmael in the family plot.

 

Gen. 24:17-20 “A servant ran toward her and said, 'Please, let me sip a little water from your jar.’ ‘Drink, my lord,’ she said, and she quickly lowered her jar upon her head and let him drink. When she had let him drink his fill, she said, ‘I will also draw for your camels, until they finish drinking.’ Quickly emptying her jar into the trough, she ran back to the well to draw water, and she drew for all his camels.”

 

Rabbi Stacey Rigler has written about the importance of kindness (chesed) in this week’s reading (10 Minutes of Torah, 11/14/22).  She notes that we often focus on Rebecca's kindness to the animals. But, she maintains, there is much more.

Kindness first requires that one be considerate, seeing another person, their circumstances, and their needs. Rebecca knew that not only the man but also the camels would need water.

Kindness requires an act of friendliness, an assumption of goodwill. Rebecca was not offended by the request from a stranger but assumed that he was in need and worked to help.

Kindness requires selflessness and generosity. Rebecca seeks no quid quo pro. Rigler cites Alan Morinis in his book Everyday Holiness: “Chesed involves acts that sustain the other…In the Jewish view, it is not enough to hold warm thoughts in our heart or to wish each other well. We are meant to offer real sustenance to one another... to qualify as chesed, these actions need to come out of kindness and no other motive."

We live in a time when acts of true chesed are needed more than ever. Thoughts and prayers are not enough.

--

Just Show Up

 Vayera

Gen. 18:1-22:24         

 

Précis: In this week’s reading, we have almost too much narrative to consider. God “appeared” (vayera) to Abraham. Abraham shows hospitality to three strangers. They promise the birth of Isaac, overheard by Sarah (who laughs). God reveals His plans for the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and Abraham argues for its salvation for the sake of any innocents who might dwell there. The scene shifts to Sodom where Lot lives, and he and his family are rescued first from an unruly mob and then from the destruction of the city itself. Lot’s wife glances back and turns into the pillar of salt. His daughters, fearing that they are the last females alive, make Lot drunk and engage in sexual relations with him, later giving birth to founders of the tribes of Moab and Ammon (traditional adversaries of the Israelites).

Back with Abraham, Sarah conceives and gives birth to Isaac. She becomes unhappy with the continued presence of Ishmael and prevails upon Abraham to expel Ishmael and Hagar from the household, which he does (after being promised by God that Ishmael, too, will be the father of a great nation). Thereafter, the story continues with the attempted sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham, called “the Akedah” (the Binding of Isaac).

 

Gen. 18:1-3 “Adonai appeared to him at the terebinths of Mamre. And Abraham raised his eyes and saw, and behold, three men were standing before him. He saw, and he ran toward them from the tent flap and bowed to the ground.”

 

JTS Chancellor Ismar Schorsch has pointed out (JTS Distance Learning Project, 11/15/03) that the rabbis noted that the verb “appeared” (vayera) is here used in a very unusual way. In almost all other examples in our Bible when the verb is used in connection with God’s appearance, it is followed immediately by a verbal statement of direct address. (e.g., “God appeared and said…”) Here, there is only silence. In fact, it seems that Abraham is interrupting God to treat the three strangers.

            The usual explanation for God’s appearance is that God was coming to comfort Abraham following the painful circumcision at the conclusion of last week’s reading (from which we base the mitzvah of bikur cholim (caring for the ill).

            I’d like to add another point. Sometimes, silence is all that is needed to comfort another (a basis for the custom of being silent until spoken to when visiting a mourner). Sometimes, we need to merely show up. We live in a time when showing up is of paramount importance.  

 

Leaders are human

 Lech Lecha

Gen. 12:1 -17:27

 

Précis: This parasha, “get you up” or “go yourself” (lech lecha) begins with “the call” of Abram to leave his home and depart for a new land. At God’s command, Abram and Sarai journey to Canaan. When famine strikes, they travel to Egypt, where Sarai is taken into Pharaoh’s harem after Abram calls her his “sister,” but she escapes without harm. They then leave Egypt, with Abram now a rich man. To avoid family squabbles, Abram separates himself from his nephew Lot (who moves to Sodom), but Abram is forced to rescue Lot and reaches a negotiated settlement with the locals. God promises him an heir. Because Sarai is barren, she offers Abram her servant (Hagar), and Hagar gives birth to a son, Ishmael. Abram is then promised a son through Sarai, to be his true heir. Abram’s name is changed to Abraham, and Sarai’s to Sarah, in recognition of the new Covenant with God, which is then symbolized by Abraham’s circumcision.

 

Gen. 12:10-20 There was a famine in the land, and Abram went down to Egypt...As he was about to enter Egypt, he said to his wife Sarai…‘Please say that you are my sister, that it may go well with me...and that I may remain alive’…The Egyptians saw how beautiful she was...and praised her to Pharaoh, and the woman was taken into Pharaoh’s house…And because of her, all went well with Abram, but Adonai afflicted Pharaoh…who sent for Abram and said… ‘take your wife and be gone.’”

            The story is interesting on several fronts. Was Abram’s deception due to fear? Was he really lying to Pharaoh (because she was his “niece” or that the word for “sister” could have had another meaning)? Other commentators are guided by the observation of Nachmanides: “It was a sin.”

            When we think of the greatest figures of authority in our texts, we often mention Moses as the greatest leader of the Jewish People. He was punished for his failures by being denied entry into the Promised Land. Abram was the Founder of the Jewish People, committed a sinful act here (and, some would argue, again at Moriah).

            We learn that our Jewish leaders are human beings, and that they share inevitable traits of all of us imperfect humans. This profound part of our tradition should cast its aura on how we perceive our current leaders. They are far from perfect.

Violence, Cruelty, Injustice

 

Noach

Gen. 6:9-11:32

 

Précis: The story of Noah (Hebrew: Noach) and the Flood appear in this parasha. Noah, called by God, builds the Ark and collects the animals. It rains for forty days and nights. Noah and his family are saved, and afterward leave the Ark, build an altar, and make sacrifices to God. God sets a rainbow as a promise not to destroy mankind again. Noah plants a vineyard, makes wine, and becomes drunk. An odd incident with sexual overtones takes place with his sons. The story of the Tower of Babel is included in this parasha, and it ends with a genealogy of the ancient peoples of the Bible, concluding with Abram.

 

Gen. 6:13 “God said to Noah, “I have decided to put an end to all flesh, for the earth is filled with lawlessness because of them: I am about to destroy them with the earth.”

             The word “lawlessness” is a common translation of the Hebrew word “hamas.” It has also been translated as violence, wrong, cruelty, and injustice.

            We are all much too familiar with another use of the word. The ​group known as Hamas drew its name when formed in 1987 as an Arabic acronym for “Harakat al-Muqawamah al-Islamiyah” (“Islamic Resistance Movement”). It chose this acronym because an Arabic translation of the word hamas can be zeal, justice, and bravery. It is beyond ironic that the name does not match the horrors committed by this lawless group.

            Some will cite Biblical verses as justifications for improper actions. In this case, God’s decision to destroy mankind (and even their animals) because of “hamas” should be a solemn reminder of the need to destroy the current holder of the title. It is not only because of their actions against Israel and Jews, but as is increasingly obvious, it is necessary to safeguard the lives of those Palestinians who oppose their lawless rule.

One final thought: where are the protests and voices of outrage against Hamas’ joyous execution of their fellow Palestinians? Crickets.  

Starting Again, with hope

 Bereshit

Gen. 1:1 - 6:8

 

Précis: The first Book of the Torah, Bereshit (Genesis, literally “in the beginning” or “When God began to create”) begins with the familiar story of creation. The world is created in six days and God rests on the seventh. The stories of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden are included, as is the story of Cain and Abel.

 

Gen. 3:22 “And the Lord God said, “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat and live forever.”

 

Rabbi Dan Moskowitz (10 Minutes of Torah 10/20/19) points to this iconic scene of Adam and Eve leaving the Garden of Eden after eating of the forbidden fruit from the Tree of knowledge.

Before partaking of the fruit, they did not know that death existed. God has expelled them from the Garden, which we can easily see as a punishment. In fact, Moskovitz argues, it was a blessing. Why? If one has eternity, there is no urgency. Citing German existentialist Martin Heidegger, to truly live authentically we must confront death head-on. But even though we know that we are all going to die, we don’t always believe what we know to be true.

            Our tradition has a different take. Instead of denying death, we are instructed to live each day as if it is our last because we don’t know, it very well may be (BT, Shabbat 153a).

            Considering the freedom of the hostages from Gazan captivity this week, this thought has added poignancy. The hostages did not know whether they would survive another day, let alone reach freedom. We thank God for their release and offer our prayers for their refuah schleimah. We mourn with those who lost their loved ones to baseless hatred.

            As Moskowitz asks, where is the true paradise? Is it in the Garden of Eden where no one ever dies and time is limitless? Or is it East of Eden, outside the garden, where every moment is precious, every decision is life changing, and the fruit, sometimes bitter, compels us to appreciate the sweet? Above all we can seek the sweetness of peace.

A command to be joyous

Shabbat Chol Moed Sukkot

Ecclesiastes 1:10-11 “Is there anything of which it may be said, ‘See, this is new?’ It has already been in old times, which were before us.  There is no remembrance of former things; neither will there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come afterwards.”

            The traditional Torah reading for the Shabbat during Sukkot is Leviticus 22:26-23:41, verses which recapitulate the list of holidays making up the Jewish calendar, and verses in Exodus which recount Moses’ preparation of the second set of tablets. During the festival of Sukkot, we also read the Book of Ecclesiastes, when we are called upon to recognize the temporary nature of the abundance of the fall harvest.

                The most famous part of Ecclesiastes (at least to those of us of a certain age) is from Chapter 3, which includes the famous line “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven” made famous by the Pete Seeger song, “Turn, Turn, Turn” (recorded by the Byrds in 1965).

            I wanted to look at the verses from the Book cited above for another reason. Sukkot is a holiday during which we are commanded to be joyous. Yet don’t these lines appear to be depressing?

            It may be a frustrating truism, but the author of Ecclesiastes gives us wisdom: what happened in the past is soon forgotten. As one ages one recognizes that things younger generations see as revolutionary are nothing of the sort when measured against the yardstick of millennia.  Things may appear to be bleak at present, but those of us with memories know that we have survived and overcome even more perilous times.​ Perhaps the glimmer of hope for peace we now see before us can help us to obey the command to be joyous during Sukkot. 

The Death of Moses

 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.

Deut. 32:48-52, “Go up this mountain of the Abarim, Mount Nebo, which is in the land of Moab, opposite Jericho, and view the land of Canaan, which I am giving to the people of Israel for a possession. And die on the mountain which you go up and be gathered to your people …For you will see the land only from a distance; you will not enter the land I am giving to the people of Israel.”

            Rabbi Sacks reminds us that Moses is not a Jewish object of worship but rather the ultimate role-model. His greatness lies in his effort, and not in his achievement, since he is denied in this parasha the chance to complete his 40-year effort.  

Moses’ death affirms human mortality. There are many explanations of why Moses was not allowed to enter the Promised Land. Sacks had previously argued that “each generation has its leaders” (Avodah Zarah 5a). One who has the skills to lead a people out of slavery is not necessarily one with the skills to forge a new nation in its own land.  

Most of all, Moses’ life teaches us that it is right to fight against evil regimes which seem impossible to defeat. 

Tell the story

Ki Tavo

Deut. 26:1-29:8

 

Précis: The parasha contains numerous religious mandates regarding the formation of a civil and moral community (including tithes of first fruits and tithes to support the Levites). The People are promised that if they follow God’s instructions, they will be transformed into a “holy people.” They are further instructed that they have a choice in their own destiny: there are blessings and curses (the “Admonition”), and they must choose between the two, and take the consequences. The parasha ends with Moses reminding the People about all that God had done for them in bringing them from Egypt, providing sustenance, defeating their foes, and giving them the Land.

 

Deut. 26:4-10 “The Priest shall take the basket from your hands and set it down in front of the altar of the Lord your God. Then you shall declare before the Lord your God: ‘My father was a wandering Aramean, and he went down into Egypt with a few people and lived there and became a great nation, powerful and numerous . . . So, the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror and with signs and wonders. He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey; and now I bring the first fruits of the soil that You, Lord, have given me.’”

 

A central focus of this week’s reading is the renewal of the covenant. Rabbi Sacks has written about the distinction between a “covenant-based” society and a “tradition-based” society, remarking that American memorials are infused with famous quotations of the people being honored, while English memorials lack quotations, relying only on images of honorees (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 9/19/24)

The United States of America tells its story on its monuments, a story woven out of the speeches of its greatest leaders. England builds memorials but it doesn't tell a story.  In a tradition-based society, things are as they are because of how they were. A covenant-based society does not value the past merely because it is old. Rather, a covenant-based society exists to honor the moral bond of what was an essential ethical undertaking.

The passage quoted above, regarding the presentation of first fruits, reminds us that a covenant is more than a myth, because a covenant always contains specific undertakings that bind its citizens to the present and future.  

Regarding the Jewish People, the original covenant-based society, Sacks notes, “The mere act of telling the story, regularly, as a religious duty, sustained Jewish identity across the centuries, even in the absence of all the normal accompaniments of nationhood – land, geographical proximity, independence, self-determination ­– and never allowed the people to forget its ideals, its aspirations, its collective project of building a society that would be the opposite of Egypt, a place of freedom and justice and human dignity…”

What do we learn from the first fruits declaration? If you want to sustain freedom, never stop telling the story.

Needy and destitute laborer

Ki Tetze

Deut. 21:10 - 25:19

 

Précis:  The parasha might be subtitled “entering society” because it describes the creation of a just and moral social network. It begins with the phrase “when you go forth” (ki tetze) to battle. This parasha, according to Maimonides, contains 72 mitzvot and cover a wide variety of topics, from family life, human kindness, fair business and employment practices, respect for property and animals, the safety of others, sexual relationships, escaped slaves, financial loans and charging interest, keeping promises, and remembering to blot out the name of one of Israel’s greatest enemies. This assortment of commands included requirements that there be sex-distinct clothing; that mother birds not be separated from their eggs; that roof-tops have parapets; that seeds not be mixed in a field, and that “tzitzit” (fringes) be worn on garments.

 

Deut. 24:14 “You shall not abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow countryman or a stranger in one of the communities of your land.”

                We observed Labor Day this past week, a time when we traditionally honor those who provide their labor for the benefit of all. I did read that more than a million Americans Googled trying to find out why we have this holiday.

                In present-day America, how we treat “needy and destitute” laborers, particularly those who are strangers (non-citizens) in our communities, is one of the most divisive issues. The current occupant of the White House has his simple (simple minded?) solution: expel them, whether they are culpable of criminal activity or have contributed by their labor over decades. Despite the President’s lip service to “good” agricultural workers, the masked agents of ICE have continued their roundups, their incarcerations, and expulsions.

                As Jews, we should be proud that our tradition stands in stark contrast to the actions of the current administration. As we also read in this week’s parasha, “You shall not remain indifferent” (Deut. 23:3).

Wholehearted

 Shoftim

Deut. 16:18-21:9

 

Précis: The parasha Shoftim (literally, “judges”) is devoted primarily to various themes of justice, and includes warnings against false testimony, idol worship, and the dangers posed by mortal kings. The parasha also warns the people against false prophets, magicians, soothsayers and witches. It establishes requirements for cities of refuge in the Promised Land. In short, the parasha is devoted to ways to create a just society in the Land of Israel.

 

Deut. 18:13 -  “You must be wholehearted with the Lord, your God”

Rabbi Dr. Mordechai Shiffman reminds us that there is an ongoing motif in Deuteronomy of Moses’ concerns that the People will be negatively impacted by the Canaanite culture (The Torah of Character, 9/6/24). In this week’s reading, Moses decries the augurs, soothsayers, diviners, sorcerers, spell-casters, and consulters of spirits, ghosts, and the dead (apparently, a major thing with the Canaanites).

After listing the prohibitions, Moses concludes with the cited verse. “Wholehearted” is the most common translation for the Hebrew word “tamim” but tamim is also translated as “perfect,” “whole,” and “complete.” What are the expectations of this phrase, particularly following the list of prohibited associations?  

            Shiffman cites Rashi for the proposition that people were prone to remove uncertainties by consulting those who offered forecasts for the future. The word “tamim” encourages the Israelites to “put your hope in Him and do not attempt to investigate the future, but whatever it may be that comes upon you accept it whole-heartedly.”

            Some interpret tamim as “simplicity.”  In this context, simplicity is living with an innocence, and humility requires accepting every moment with simple faith instead of anxiously grasping for certainty through spiritually dangerous means.
            It is evident that we live in uncertain times, and the human quest for certainty can be seen in slavish devotion to a leader who promises security. We, like the Israelites, must avoid spiritually dangerous means to provide calm and assurance. 

Tzedakah is not Charity

Re’eh

Deut. 11:26 - 16:17

 

Précis: Moses begins by quoting God, saying “Behold (re’eh), I set before you a blessing and a curse this day.” The blessing flows from observance of the laws and the curses result from violations. A concern with idolatry permeates the following verses. The parasha explains that there will be a single site for sacrifices. A test for a false prophet and the punishment of an idolatrous city are included. The parasha then shifts to other subjects: a prohibition against self-mutilation, the biblical basis of the laws of kashrut, tithing so that the needs are met for the Levites, the “stranger, the fatherless, and the widow.” Remission of debts, freeing of Hebrew slaves, and the dedication of firstborn cattle are discussed, as are the commandments for the observance of Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.

 

Deut. 15:7-8 “If anyone is poor among your fellow Israelites in any of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward them. Rather, be open handed and freely lend them whatever they need.”

 

Deut. 15:15-10 “Give generously to them and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to. There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.”

           

This week’s teaching is all about the mitzvah of tzedakah, usually translated as “charity.” It is, however, much more than that. The best translation implies a demand for social justice. Rambam held that one who refused to give charity could be impelled to do so by a Jewish court. As Rabbi Sacks taught, “Charity is always voluntary. Tzedakah is compulsory.”

            The quoted verses suggest that we should not begrudge the poor among us. To do so robs them of dignity. Maimonides states that we should give to the poor so that they, in turn, can give to the poor. Thus, tzedakah includes the obligation to ensure that everyone has the dignity inherent in giving to others.

            Judaism never romanticizes poverty or ignores its pain. Again, Maimonides: “The well-being of the soul can only be obtained after that of the body has been secured.” One cannot be spiritually fulfilled with no food, no roof, no medical care, or being crushed by financial worries.

            Does this speak to us today? A society, like ours in 21^st century America, says that success can be achieved only by pulling oneself up by one’s bootstraps. Maimonides rebuts this presumption by declaring that the highest degree of tzedakah is enabling those challenged by poverty to prosper, even to the point of providing employment.  

Or as the Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu is said to have remarked, “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.”

Be careful

 Ekev

Deut. 7:12 - 11:25

 

Précis: Moses continues his recapitulation of the commandments to the people, reminding them to be obedient to God’s laws in their forthcoming struggle with the Canaanites. He describes in detail all of the blessings which God had already provided them, and reminds them to bless and thank God for the bounty they receive. On the other hand, they should follow the rebelliousness of their fathers, including the incident of the Golden Calf, punishment will occur.

 

Deut. 8:11-19 “Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God... Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery... You may say to yourself, ‘My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.’ ... If you ever forget the Lord your God... I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed.”

 

            What is the real challenge in keeping a free society? As is often the case, Rabbi Sacks had an insightful answer based on the verses above. (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 8/122/24).       

In these verses, Moses is speaking to a new generation about to enter the Promised Land. He is telling them, in effect, that if you thought the last 40 years of wandering in the desert was difficult, and that your problems will end when you conquer the Land, you better think again. That is when the real spiritual challenge will occur.

That real challenge, Sacks tells us, is not poverty but affluence, not insecurity but security, not slavery but freedom. Moses seems to intuit that when a civilization becomes great, its elites get used to luxury and comfort, and the people as a whole lose their social solidarity. Citing the great English philosopher Bertrand Russell, he notes that the two great peaks of civilization were reached in Greece and Renaissance Italy. But their greatness contained the seeds of their destruction: traditional moral restraints disappeared, and the anarchy and treachery which inevitably resulted made them collectively impotent, and they fell, to nations less “civilized” but not so destitute of social cohesion. The West rose to dominance because of its six “killer applications”: competition, science, democracy, medicine, consumerism and the Protestant work ethic. Today however it is losing belief in itself and is in danger of being overtaken by others.

All of this was said for the first time by Moses, and it forms a central argument of the book of D'varim. He warns that unless we are “careful” to follow God’s commandments, the rich will become self-indulgent and the poor will feel excluded. There will be social divisions, resentments and injustices. Society will no longer cohere.

How can we avoid such a fate, since all civilizations in recorded history have failed? (This seems to be an important question for 21^st century America.) Simply, everyone must share the responsibility of society as a whole. Sacks lays out several rules which seem so applicable today, based on Moses’ teachings 3,000 years ago: Rule 1: Never forget where you came from, and establish courts and the rule of law; Rule 2: Never drift from your foundational principles and ideals, and recognize a power greater than ourselves; Rule 3: A society is as strong as its faith. Only faith can motivate us to act for the benefit of a future we will not live to see. Only faith can stop us from wrongdoing.

It is indeed a challenge for all of us to find the strength to follow these rules.

Loving

 Va’ethanan

Deut. 3:23 - 7:11

 

Précis: Moses continues the recapitulation of travels, and urges the People to follow the laws and commandments of Adonai. Moses pleads with God that he be allowed to enter the Promised Land, and is refused. Moses reminds the people that God was angry with him on account of their sinful ways, and therefore was refused permission to enter the Land. Moses continues with a restatement of the Ten Commandments, and follows with an articulation of the basic element of Jewish theology: the Sh’ma. Moses then warns the people against the perils of forgetfulness, particularly of the Exodus, and cautions against idol worship of gods of the nations they will conquer.

 

Deut. 6:5 “Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might.”

            This week’s reading includes the Sh’ma, as well as the commandment cited above. Rabbi Sari Laufer has written about “love” in Judaism (10 Minutes of Torah, 8/12/24). She notes that the Torah commands love in three different ways: (1) to love God, as cited here; (2) to love the stranger (a command that is repeated more than any other in the Torah); and (3) to love our neighbors as ourselves.   

            We note that this command comes at an unexpected moment: it is after the Israelites have spent 40 years in the desert. We might have expected the Torah to say “fear” or “be in awe” of God, but instead, we see for the first time, the command to “love God.” In the desert, the focus was on survival. The Torah command to love is not a desert priority; it is not the focus of a survival mentality.  As Laufer says, “The fact that Torah commands love right at this moment teaches us that love is elemental, foundational, and will move us from survival to security, from tenuousness to thriving.”

For Jews, whether in the Biblical desert, in Israel or in the United States in 2025, love is what we do--not just how we feel. How are we to show our love of God? By acting in ways we believe God acts: showing care and compassion for others, seeking the well-being of the least among us, and above all, seeking peace between people, communities, and the world.

Admitting errors

 D’varim

Deut. 1:1 - 3:22

 

The Book of Deuteronomy (D’varim – “words”) takes the form of a series of lectures by Moses to the People as they prepare to enter the Land. Together, these instructions constitute Moses’ farewell address.  D’varim is sometimes called the “Mishneh Torah”, literally, the “second teaching of the Torah” (this is where we get the Greek name of the Book). 

            On another level, we can look at this as a kind of a homecoming saga. Like the Odyssey, the Gilgamesh epic, or The Wizard of Oz, much of this Book is about “getting home.” What distinguishes this Book are the detailed instructions about how to create a civil society after we get “home,” how we should relate to each other, especially to the most vulnerable in our society, and how we should relate to God and to the Land.

Deut.1:22 “Then all of you came to me and said, ‘Let us send men to reconnoiter the land for us and bring back word on the route we shall follow and the cities we shall come to.’ It looked good in my eyes, and so I selected twelve men, one from each tribe.”

    Here, Moses recalls the tragedy of the twelve spies, which happened 40 years prior. Interestingly, this statement by Moses differs in important ways from the first recounting of the events in Numbers 13; God had ordered the spires to be sent out, and 10 of the 12 gave fearful reports, at which point God threatened the destruction of all, until Moses obtained a reprieve and a "reduced sentence" of wandering in the desert for 40 years.

Here, even though the results were terrible, Moses takes responsibility, essentially stating that ​"it seemed like a good idea at the time, so I agreed.​" It was his fault, not the entire People, who were so frightened that they received the punishment.

Moses admits to an error. A bad decision is what it is, ​a bad decision. It would be refreshing if our current leaders in the United States and Israel agreed with this concept​.

     

Rule of law

 

Matot-Masei

Num. 30:2 – 36:13

 

Précis: The parasha begins with a speech to the heads (matot) of the tribes concerning the importance and sacredness of vows. The parasha then returns to the war with the Midianites, including the purification of the warriors and division of the booty. The tribes of Reuben, Gad and half of Manasseh express their desire to dwell east of the Jordan, and are permitted to do so, after promising to enter the Land to help the rest of the People defeat the Canaanites.

 

The Book of Numbers ends with Masei.  “These are the stages (masei) of the journey” which the Israelites made through the desert. In what amounts to a recapitulation, all of the stops along the way are identified. The Israelites are reminded to drive the Canaanites from the Land. Most of the parasha outlines the Israelites' entry to the Promised Land and sets out the first steps to be taken as they establish their national home, including the distribution of land among the tribes. The Levitical cities are described, as well as the cities of refuge. Just prior to their invasion of the land, the laws differentiating between murder and killing are repeated. The parasha ends with a summary of the commandments and ordinances. 

Num. 35:9-10 “The Lord spoke further to Moses: ‘Speak to the Israelite people and say to them, ‘When you cross the Jordan into the land of Canaan, you shall provide yourselves with places to serve as cities of refuge to which a manslayer who has killed a person unintentionally may flee. The cities shall serve you as a refuge from the avenger so that the manslayer may be brought before a tribunal…”

The Book of B’midbar ends with a description of the cities of refuge. These six cities, three on either side of the Jordan, where an individual guilty of manslaughter but not guilty of murder, could seek safe exile.

In early societies, there was great concern that people would take the law into their own hands, especially when a family member was killed. This would initiate a cycle of violence. As Rabbi Sacks has noted (Rabbi Sacks Legacy 8/1/24), “This is a phenomenon familiar to us from literature, from the Montagues and Capulets of Romeo and Juliet, to the Sharks and Jets of West Side Story, to the Corleones and Tattaglias of The Godfather.” To which Americans can add the Hatfields and McCoys.

Just imagine: a close relative lies dead and no one has been punished. Vengeance is demanded. In order to avert “blood vengeance,” cities of refuge were established. Those who had committed manslaughter were sent there, and so long as they were within the city limits, they were protected by law.

As was the case then, the case is now: the only viable solution to violence is the effective and impartial rule of law.

God's Food?

Pinchas

Num. 25:10 - 30:1

 

Précis: This parasha begins with a reward for Pinchas’ zealotry in slaying the offending adulterers at the conclusion of the previous parasha. His reward is the hereditary High Priesthood for his family. The parasha continues with a second census conducted by Moses, with war being declared against Midian. The laws of inheritance are amended to provide, at least in certain cases, for daughters to inherit their fathers’ estates. Joshua is appointed the successor to Moses as leader of the People. The parasha then shifts to details of daily sacrifices, offerings for the new moon, and Festivals.

 

Num. 28:1-2 “And Adonai spoke to Moses saying, ‘Command the children of Israel, and you shall say to them, ‘You shall bring forward my sacrifices to me, my food, for my offering by fire, my pleasant smell, at its appointed time.’”

            It should be recalled that the Hebrew word for “sacrifice” (korban) comes from a root meaning to “draw close.” In other words, the sacrificial system was intended to allow the Israelites to “come close” to God.

Some have suggested that God didn’t really want to institute a sacrificial system, but God knew that the People would insist upon it, since it was not only the custom of their ancestors, but was also being practiced by everyone around them.

Do we really believe that God needed “food” or in need of “a pleasant smell?”  This concept is obviously anthropomorphic, and it gave the earliest rabbis pause (as it does us today). The Sages’ hesitation increased powerfully when the Second Temple was destroyed, and the sacrificial cult ended. Over time (how much is not clear), prayer was viewed as a substitute for sacrifices. Even the daily prayer services reflected the Temple’s daily sacrificial schedule.

            This leads to an inevitable question: if sacrifices did not save Israel more than 1900 years ago, can prayer save it today? I honestly don’t know, because I do not personally understand the efficacy of prayer. To me, prayer is a connection with my tradition and with my community. It provides hope. In these times of danger to Israel and Jews everywhere, I must have hope. So I pray.