Standing with the Stranger

Nitzavim - Va Yelech

Deut. 29:9 -31:30

Précis:  In the first of this double parasha reading, Nitzavim, 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 Va Yelech, 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 as his successor. 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. 29:9 -11 “You stand this day, all of you, before Adonai your God -  your tribal heads, your elders, your officials, all the men of Israel; your children, your wives, even the stranger in your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer, to enter into the covenant of Adonai your God…”

I find this verse to be compelling for any number of reasons. First and foremost, it is a statement of the essential unity of the Jewish People, making clear that from the greatest to the least, all stand together in a covenantal relationship to God, and (I imply) to each other. Second, the Hebrew grammar is instructive in its use of the pronouns “you” and “your.” Most of the times, they are in the plural as one might expect. However, the “your” as it relates to the stranger in the camp is in the singular. In effect, the stranger is “your” personal responsibility.

            As Rabbi Peretz Rodman has written (Torah Sparks, 9/28/16), “In the present verse the message is: "You [singular, this time] are the person who determines the living conditions of another human being, one whom you might ignore or neglect because his social status is low and his agency over his own life is limited. Do not overlook him." This is the same stranger (“ger”) who in the first chapter of Deuteronomy (1:6) has full equality under law, and perhaps also the same ger who should enjoy Shabbat rest (Ex. 23:12).

            Who is this ger who stands with us? It is the man, woman, or child who lives within our midst, but is not part of “us.” It may be the undocumented alien, the Dreamer, or those who live in poverty and despair. This verse, I would suggest, leads us to a conclusion that each of us has an individual responsibility to remember that these individuals “stand together” in a mutual covenantal relationship. We dare not overlook or ignore them. 

Ritual: Don't Forget the "Why"

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 to 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.

This week’s parasha is Ki Tavo, (Deut. 26:1-29:8). At its very beginning, we read a passage also found in the Passover Haggadah. It concerns the prayer which begins with the word “when you come into the land which Adonai has given you, and dwell there, you will take the first fruit of the ground… and you will come to the priest…and say to him, ‘my father was a wandering Aramean, and he went to Egypt, and there became a great nation… and now I have brought the first of the fruit of this land which You, Adonai, have given me.…’”

            We observe here the specific instructions for the ritual of offering first fruits. The commandment contains one of the very few times in the Torah that a prayer is specifically set forth as part of a ritual, to be spoken by individuals. (Another example is the Priestly Blessing in Num. 6:22-27). The Rabbis taught that this prayer, unlike virtually all others, must be recited in Hebrew. This prayer demonstrates that individuals were to take an active role in the ritual life of the people; it was not something left only to the Priests.

            Many Jews today – and here I include my Shoresh Hebrew High School students - have problems with the concept of ritual, and why ritual is relevant to them. When properly understood, ritual can teach us important lessons for living life. Here, the Torah ritual teaches us the importance of expressing gratitude. All too often, rabbis, teachers, and parents fail to provide enough explanation of ritual; when we instruct at all, it is often the “how to,” leaving out the “why.”

            These are the two parts of what some call the “worship experience.” Rote ritual without prayer is hollow, and prayer without ritual ignores the communal expression essential in Judaism. Human beings have a craving for ritual, as well as a desire to engage in meaningful prayer. All too frequently, we hear from our students and fellow Jews that reciting “the same words” is boring or tiresome. A challenge for modern Jews is to interpret ritual and prayer in ways that strike an emotional chord and help us connect with the Ineffable.

            As Cantor Edwin Gerber of Ohr Kodesh Congregation has taught me, one analogy to help us appreciate ritual is the metaphor of an orchestral performance. Unless an orchestra practices very carefully, through almost endless repetition, it cannot play the symphony correctly. Even when the musicians “know” the music well, there are only rare times when everyone plays together to create an outstanding performance. So it can be with prayer. It takes repetition to learn the words, and even once the words are known well, only occasionally do we achieve the exceptional state of “kavanah” (intention) that permits a transcendent experience. Just because we don’t reach the “outstanding performance” on every occasion is not a reason to stop trying.

           

For discussion: Is there a particular ritual that your family observes? What is the source of that ritual? Do all rituals have “equal weight?” Why or why not? If you were going to create a new Jewish ritual, what would it be?