Do not fear

Shoftim

Deuteronomy 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.

Deuteronomy 20:1-3 "When you take the field against your enemies, and see horses and chariots, forces larger than yours,  have no fear (lo tira) of them, for the Eternal your God, who brought you from the land of Egypt, is with you. Before you join battle, the priest shall come forward and address the troops. He shall say to them: 'Hear, O Israel! You are about to join battle with your enemy. Let not your courage falter. Do not be in fear (al tir'u!), or in panic, or in dread of them'.”

                

Yael Splansky has examined the phrase “do not fear” with a very revealing analysis (10 Minutes of Torah 8/20/12) on how that phrase is used often in the Bible. The command or statement appears frequently, and we find it in Exodus 14:13, with the Israelites at the Red Sea as Pharaoh’s army approached, and again when Joshua prepares for the battle of Jericho (Joshua 8:1). This statement is not restricted to the battlefield: Avram is told not to fear as he sets forth to a new land (Gen.15:1-5); Hagar, ready to die after being expelled from Abraham’s household, is told "Have no fear" (Gen. 21:17); when Jacob prepares for his reunion with Joseph in Egypt, God encourages him not to fear (Gen. 46:3). In every generation, it seems, God’s reassurance is required. As is stated in Isaiah 41:10, "Fear not, for I am with you; do not be frightened, for I am your God".

               

The frequent repetition of this commandment tells us that our heroic biblical figures were, in fact, human: they had fears. It also tells us that God is greater than the sum of all human fears, and can support his fearful followers with a quiet whisper or a strong command.

               

But there is another “fear” in Jewish tradition, namely, the “fear of God” (yirat Adonai) which is distinct from the repetition of statements of comfort. While this “fear” is sometimes translated as reverence or awe, it remains a complex concept, both simple and profound. We conclude our Shabbat morning service with the hymn “Adon Olam,” the last line of which includes a phrase taken from Psalm 118, “Adonai li v’lo ira" (God is with me, I shall not fear). Is this a statement of real belief, or is it aspirational or hopeful? Do we really believe it? The new month of Elul began on Wednesday; we are entering a season when we “return” again to examine our inner-most beliefs and thoughts. Yirat Adonai means that not only our actions are called into question, but our beliefs as well.

Our actions have consequences

Re’eh

Deuteronomy 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; 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: the prohibition against self-mutilation, the biblical basis of the laws of kashrut, tithing so that the Levite, the "stranger, the fatherless, and the widow” are taken care of.  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.

Deuteronomy 11:26–28  “Behold I set before you a blessing and a curse this day; a blessing if you obey the commandment…and a curse, if you will not obey the commandments…”

               

                This verse, according to Nahama Leibowitz, z’l  “postulates…the fundamental Jewish principle of free will.”  We are free to choose “good” and to be rewarded, or to choose “evil” and to be punished. I suggest that the concept of human free is the greatest gift of the Jewish People to all of humanity. Before our Torah made this declaration, the world seemed to lack cause and effect; everything seemed to be subject to the whims of the gods who acted with or without any reason. Free will made us responsible for our actions, for better or for worse. Without free will and personal responsibility, justice is impossible. Without free will, we would, like other ancients, simply blame the “gods” or other outside forces for the impacts of the choices we make. But this verse declares unambiguously and clearly that we do have free will. 

               Blessing are promised to us if we follow the commandments. But often, exactly HOW we are to observe the commandment is left unstated by the text. Enter the rabbis.  Just a couple of verses later on, in Deuteronomy 13:1  we read. “Be careful to observe only that which I enjoin upon you: neither add to it nor take away from it.”  The irony of this particular verse is apparent when we look at the remarkable changes in Jewish ritual and practice over the centuries, initiated by the Sages and expanded by Rabbis time and again. What was once required (like animal sacrifice) or permitted (for example, polygamy) has been “taken away” by Rabbinic interpretation and rulings.

               On the other hand, new practices have been “added” by the Rabbis to deal with historical events (such as Chanukah celebrations or the observance of Tisha B’Av) or scientific discoveries (is electricity to be treated like fire? What’s the permitted use of Pyrex or Teflon pots or Shabbat elevators?) In every era, groups of Jews who were equally committed to the vitality and continuity of Jewish life have disagreed over matters of religious practice. This includes Jews in Babylonia and Jews from the land of Israel, Ashkenazim and Sephardim, Hassidim and their opponents, and now the various Jewish sects of the 21st century.

               In many cases, from the completely trivial to the most essential, Jews have not been able to reach consensus on common practices and principles. The process of creating an environment where Jews from different backgrounds can live together, pray together, let alone eat together, can sometimes be daunting. 

               Today, we have an extraordinary wide range of Jewish practices and rituals, to the extent that it seems increasingly difficult (if not presumptuous) to label any one form of Judaism “normative.” Even within the most traditionally observant segments of our Jewish world, serious differences exist about how to live a “torah life.” I would suggest that this great diversity in Jewish ritual practice is perhaps the one “normative” aspect that transcends 3,000 years of belief.  It is vital that we Jews retain the ability to respect other Jews who observe differently, so that we remain one people, more than the sum of our parts, rather than disconnected sects.  May we, together, find unity among our families, within our congregation, and among all of klal Yisrael.