Personal Parsha Prose

Dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Moshe Aaron ben Necha Itta, Binyamin ben Simcha, Chaya Sarah bas Esther Leah, and Sharon bas Shoshana.

We are all, I would comfortably say, familiar with the stories of the greatness of Avraham Avinu. We know that in a culture of avodah zara, Avraham recognized that there could only be one Creator, one singular greater power who needed no intermediaries. When no one seemed to understand, he sought (and succeeded) in building a relationship with Hashem. We know that Avraham destroyed the idols in his father’s idol shop. We know that he didn’t hesitate to take his wife and leave his homeland. We know he arrived in his Promised Land only to find it wracked by famine. And those were just his early years. 

Rarely do we focus on the fact that Avraham’s early years begin in Parshas Noah and that where his genealogy is listed – right after the narrative of the Tower of Babel – is also surprisingly significant. Thinking about genealogy – or, more precisely, the overlapping of the biblical generations – it seems rather perplexing how it could be that while Noah and his sons still lived people could “lose sight,” so to speak, of the Oneness of Hashem. They were still aware of Hashem, but they didn’t understand how to connect with Him. This led to both the avodah zara by which Terach made his money (one might even hypothesize that people over-complicated just talking to Hashem and thus created the distance) and the desire of Nimrod to lead the people to build the tower. 

Migdal Bavel is an interesting narrative in that it is a collective story. No one person is given focus, and the actions are detailed in a plural format. Indeed, some commentaries say that the people joined into the project of building the tower because it was promoted as a project of unity. 

These events happened in the lifetime of Avraham, when he was in his 40s according to Midrashic calculation, although we would only know this from careful study of the genealogy that follows. The question naturally seems to follow: How did Avraham react to this call for all people to come together and build a great city and incredible tower?

According to the Pirkei D’Midrash Eliezer, “Avram, son of Terah, passed by, and saw them building the city and the tower, and he cursed them in the name of his God, as it is said, ‘Swallow up, O Lord, divide their language’ (Ps. 55:10). But they rejected his words, like a stone cast upon the ground…” (24:7). 

Obviously, this curse reflects the storyline of the consequence laid down by Hashem, but the Midrash also highlights the fact that Avraham was already a person of enough consequence to feel it worthwhile to speak up. (It should be noted that other Midrashim/commentaries say he condemned their actions only later, when he heard of it. The Ibn Ezra 

I wasn’t going to write as things are still crazy after the chagim…but then I thought, it’s the first parsha of the year! If I want to maintain my commitment to this, I have to write. So, that being said, please forgive this very off-the-cuff, poorly prepared dvar Torah as an exercise in discipline.

 Parshas Bereishis: Kayin and Hevel in the 21st Century

 This past Simchas Torah was a chag whose simcha was doubled by the release of the last living hostages from Gaza. Two years ago, our generation of Jews received a devastating shock – we were well and truly part of b’kol dor va’dor, in every generation they stood to destroy us. More so one can say that over the last two years many Jews were equally shocked to realize the truth of Eisev soneh es Yaakov, and Esev hates Yaakov. 

There are many events in the Torah that we can point to as explanations for what our nation has gone through, but perhaps the root of it is in this very first parsha: jealousy. Kayin and Hevel (Cain and Abel) were the two eldest children of Adam and Chava (Eve). As the first descendants of the most unique creation of the Boreh Olam (Creator of the World), they should have gotten along splendidly; after all, aside from the twin sisters described in the Midrash, who else did they have to hang out with. Instead, their relationship was destroyed by jealousy – and not just any jealousy, but a jealousy related to God’s approval. 

Kayin and Hevel both sought to praise and thank Hashem in bringing their offerings. When Hevel’s offering was accepted over Kayin’s (for reasons I won’t go into here), Kayin reacted with violence. Inherently, Kayin could not leave room for someone else to hold top rank. Indeed, he could not accept that he might be able to learn something from someone else. (Interestingly, I read somewhere that he was, in fact, the more creative of the two brothers and yet he was the one who could not accept the success of the other.)

What does this have to do with the events of the last two years? There are analogies of human nature that offer us a new perspective on the times we are living through. Those who seek to destroy us are descendants of Yishmael, the elder of the two sons of Avraham but also the one who was not chosen to carry on his father’s legacy of bringing a relationship with the Divine into the world. Over and over again, Bnei Yishmael seethes to claim the heritage of Yitzhak, although they do not necessarily express this clearly the way Bnei Eisav wrestles with Bnei Yaakov. 

Interestingly, the spiritual battle of Eisav and Yaakov is different. It’s in some ways, more refined. Eisav wants to prove itself right; Yishmael wants to prove itself only. 

Yes, we’ve jumped throughout Sefer Bereishis, but these sibling battles come back to their great-great-etc-uncle. What do you do when Hashem, the Ultimate Father, says that your brother will be the path forward? Kayin’s reaction was violence, but what Bnei Yishmael fails to recognize is that Kayin’s violence was a short-term victory. Ultimately, it was his even younger brother’s descendants who populated the earth (Noah being a descendant of Seth).

The Torah shows us, clearly, that life – that history – is full of cycles. Alas, one such cycle is that of jealousy (although that is not really the right word for any of the Biblical rivalries) and violence. Why this is necessary in the world is a question that I would say none of us can truly comprehend, but the facts of history prove that it is. Knowing that these are cycles and that our job, the job of Bnei Yisrael, is to hold strong and cling to Hashem is the essence of Jewish survival, and it’s all there in the sefer we start this week.

 (And now I must get ready for work!)

Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas Bereishis!

I often imagine that if I lived in a different time, feeling the necessary awe of Elul would be easier. It’s a logical conclusion given how often the inspirational speakers share stories of the mighty figures of our past – and even common stories of their incredible grandfathers or great-grandmothers or etc. We often find it easier to imagine that their lives were simpler – certainly they weren’t easier – and that that earnest simplicity allowed them to flourish in their emunah. 

The basic fact of the matter is, however, that emunah isn’t easy, and, probably,  it was never meant to be easy. If it was designed to be easy, it wouldn’t have merit; it wouldn’t shift the balance of one’s neshama. If it was easy, it would make it impossible for people to have bechira, free will. 

A discussion of bechira, however, leads to many questions of hashgacha and Divine intervention. Did Hashem make something happen or did I make choices that caused results in reality… were those results always going to occur? Such questions, of course, drop one back into a question of emunah, of trying to understand to view the world with the understanding that Hashem allows this incredible duality of our existence – our choices matter AND Hashem runs the world. The question of bechira also leads us to the famous statement of Rabbi Hanina, who said: “Everything is in the hands of Heaven, except for fear of Heaven.”

Yiras Shemayim is one of the most important goals of a Jew’s spiritual development, and, like emunah, one of the hardest. Hashem made humankind with a strongly driven ego. We have trouble completely sublimating ourselves to anyone, let alone remembering that all that we accomplish is an accomplishment of our Creator and we are merely His conduits in this world. Developing our yiras shemayim is not just a goal, though, it is a mtizvah in and of itself. 

According to Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, the Ramban, it is only through developing our yirah that we can get to ahava, which is another mitzvah in the Torah. And Ahavas Hashem is the ultimate achievement of a relationship with Hashem. 

Reading all of that is, in and of itself, somewhat overwhelming. We have so much we are meant to achieve spiritually, and – at least as my experience tells me – it only sounds easy. It is a constant spiritual and emotional battle of will to be active in our emunah, to be striving to have yirah, and to take the steps to achieve ahavah. 

In Sefer Devarim it is made clear that Hashem has always been prepared for us to slide back down from our achievements, to have moments of greatness and moments of utter failure. This up and down journey is the path Hashem made for us because it fulfills our mission of tikun olam. When we have completed this tumultuous journey, when we have made as much progress in enhancing the world and ourselves as we possibly can, then Hashem will pull us into a new era, which we refer to as the era of Moshiach. 

In that era, we are told in parshas Nitzavim, “then God, your God, will ‘circumcise’ your heart, as well as the heart of your offspring, [enabling you to] love God, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul, for the sake of your very life” (Devarim 30:6).

Sforno explains that this idea of circumcising the heart is about removing the very things that make emunah so much work for us today. He says: “He will open your eyes so as to remove every erroneous conception that has prevented you from recognising the theological truth of all aspects of the Jewish religion. Once these ‘blinds’ have been removed from your eyes you will realise that everything G’d has done was out of His love for you” (Sefaria)......

Parshas Ki Tavo is, when taken as a whole, a complex parsha. It starts with the mitzvah of bikkurim and includes the tithes, the creation of stones inscribed with law, and the curses and blessings that were to be declared upon entering the land. The vast majority of the pasukim in the parsha, however, are the Tochacha, the terrible consequences that will happen if the people stray from the right path. 

Within all that, there is an interesting set of verses that seems, at the outset, to be not so interesting: “You have affirmed this day that Hashem is your God, in whose ways you will walk, whose laws and commandments and rules you will observe, and whom you will obey. And Hashem has affirmed this day that you are, as promised, God’s treasured people who shall observe all the divine commandments” (26:17-18).

As incredibly important as these ideas are, they have been stated numerous times throughout the Torah. This leads to the question of what is unique in this inclusion. The answer lies in one of my favorite subjects (just ask my students!) – word choice and grammar. In Hebrew, pasuk 17 declares: Es Hashem he-e-marta hayom lihiyot l’cha l’-l-okim, and pasuk 18 states: V’Hashem he-emeercha hayom lihiyot lo l’am segula.  The two pasukim are mirrors in their language. More than that, however, Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsch notes that aleph – mem – reish “in the Hiphil only occurs here (17) and in the following verse (18). In that form it can mean nothing else than to cause somebody else to say something.”

Rav Hirsch translates the pasukim as “‘You have brought it about, you have caused it to be said that He must be your God; and God has caused it to be said that you must be an am segula to Him.’  That is to say Israel’s solemn promise to God and God’s pledged Word to Israel has not remained, so to say, a private matter, it has become internationally know, a fact engraved in the mind of the world.” 

The wording of these two pasukim has intrigued commentators throughout history.  In the sefer Lessons from Targum Onkelos (Vol II), Rabbi Yehoshua Dovid Portowicz explores the translation of these two words by Onkelos, since he used the word chativa in place of he-ehmar. Chativa seems to be a unique word that each commentator understands differently. Rashi, however, explains Onkelos’ word choice as “praise and importance,” although he himself understood the words of he-eh-mar to mean “separated” or “divided.” This separation, according to this understanding, is not between God and Bnei Yisrael, but rather separating Hashem from false deities and Klal Yisrael from the nations of the world.    

The word he-eh-mar comes from the root aleph mem reish, which is the root of the word emor, to say. More than that, Emor is the root of the verb by which Hashem created the world. Once again, we are reminded that words have power, that words make things happen. 

Rabbi Portowicz does not actually translate the word chativa itself in his analysis of the Onkeles, but rather explores the fact that so many commentators understood it to be a reflection of something that was created. Quite beautifully, the Aruch (Natan ben Yechiel) teaches “in the name of Rav Hai Gaon: “chativah” means  “a special picture.” The lashon he-eh-marta and he-eh-meercha comes from “wool” sewn onto a garment in the form of a picture or letters to decorate it. This indicates something recognizable that there is nothing like it; there is no Gd like Hashem, and there is no nation like Yisrael. The Aruch [says] ‘You made Me one chativah in Olam Hazeh; I will make you one chativah in Olam Haba.’ Hashem will reward us in Olam Haba, middah k’neged middah for being special in Olam Hazeh.”

Parshas Ki Teitzei: We Make Choices

 Parshas Ki Teitzei is one of those parshios that discusses a wide variety of mitzvos, and very few of them link together in any way other than that they are commandments we must uphold. Some of the mitzvos appear to be chukim, laws that we cannot understand. Indeed, this parsha includes the mitzvah of shooing away the mother bird, a mitzvah of definite action- who purpose is rather mysterious and spiritual.  Other mitzvos, however, are exceedingly practical. For example, it includes both the commandment to maintain a hygienic army camp and the prohibition against withholding or delaying wages from a worker. 

 Included in these mitzvos are several pasukim dealing with the very serious issue of not fulfilling one’s vow. “When you make a vow to Hashem your G-d, do not put off fulfilling it, for Hashem your God will require it of you, and you will have incurred guilt; whereas you incur no guilt if you refrain from vowing. You must fulfill what has crossed your lips and perform what you have voluntarily vowed to Hashem your God, having made the promise with your own mouth” (Devarim 23:22-24). 

 Making a vow – which some say can be as simple as stating “I promise to…” -  is incredibly powerful. Each of us, every human being, is btzelem E-lo-kim, made in the image of G-d, and Hashem created the world by speaking. What we say matters…but what about what we do not say. 

 Dvarim 23:23 is a fascinating sub-statement: “Whereas you incur no guilt if you refrain from vowing.” If you don’t vow, you won’t get punished for not fulfilling your vow. That seems a fairly obvious statement, but for all of its simplicity, it is actually a rather powerful reminder. Each of us has control over our words. Each of us has control over our actions.

 If you don’t want to risk breaking your word, then be careful how you give those words. Indeed, in Sukkah 46b, the sages quote Rabbi Zeira: “A person should not promise to give a child something and then not give it.” His reasoning there is that the child may learn to lie, but underneath is the same foundation – our words matter even in situations where we don’t think they are such a big deal, like promising a child a cookie. That concept then expands to the idea that if you don’t want to risk breaking a Torah commandment, do not put yourself deliberately into a situation where you will come to do so. 

 Most of us are not tzadikim. Most of us find ourselves in situations here or there where we must make an active choice against our personal desires in order to maintain our commitment to being ovdei Hashem. Sometimes, being totally honest, we put ourselves in those situations - deliberately. Devarim 23:23 is a soft, subtle reminder that we have the power to choose where our actions might lead.

Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas. 

Parshas Shoftim: Siege 

One of the discoveries I made when I began studying Torah as an adult was that war was not something contradictory to Torah - that it is something which the Torah actually commands of us, at appropriate times. To be honest, I remember the first time I truly paid attention to the final chapters of Megilas Esther and realized just how many people were killed and I was truly taken aback. War, it seems, is a human condition that Hashem does not expect people will live without. 

Why this is so is, perhaps, an impossible question to answer. And there are many life-realities that are discussed in the Torah that we today find difficult to swallow – such as the fact that slavery is not only not prohibited but is regulated within Torah law. It is the tendency of every generation, of course, to believe that they have reached the pinnacle of civilized thought, that they know better then those who came before them, and that they will be able to live differently then the “barbaric” ways of former generations. 

If only that were so. And if only the world did not see, time and time again, that the Torah’s dictates and boundaries are astonishingly prescient of the needs of the Jewish people 

War is the subject of the final aliyah of Parshas Shoftim, and it is disturbingly appropriate for the final weeks of 5785. Devarim 20, verses 10-21, discuss some of the most direct laws of warfare. Before attacking a city not within the area which Hashem specifically instructed Bnei Yisrael to conquer, the Israelite army must offer terms of peace. If they do not accept peace and subjugation, the Israelite army should lay siege. In foreign towns, the innocents (women and children) were to be allowed to live, while in the cities of the land, total conquest was warranted “lest they lead you into doing all the abhorrent things that they have done for their gods and you stand guilty before Hashem your God.”  The section concludes with the law not to cut down fruit trees when besieging a city, but trees that do not produce fruit might be cut down.

It seems unnecessary to point out the relevance of the laws of siege to current history. However, we might need to remember that the goal of siege is for there to be less warfare and more surrender, and today we have both siege and warfare. 

Perhaps though, the most important part of Parshas Shoftim is that which comes before the last aliyah, in the first 10 verses of Perek 20. Before the Israelite army goes to war, they are to be addressed by a kohein, who shall say: “Hear, O Israel! You are about to join battle with your enemy. Let not your courage falter. Do not be in fear, or in panic, or in dread of them. For it is Hashem your God who marches with you to do battle for you against your enemy, to bring you victory.” He then calls forth those who can be exempted from armed service, allowing those who are afraid or lacking in faith, to slip away. 

The first section of Perek 20 drives home several important points. Critical to how we behave is remembering our relationship with Hashem. Our strength comes from our belief in Hashem. Additionally, not forgetting that bein adam l’chavero is almost always as important as bein adam l’Makom, and whether a comrade fights alongside or goes home to his freshly planted vineyard, he is still part of the nation. 

Here in the month of Elul, as we reflect on that which is important heading into the Days of Awe, we can remember that Am Yisrael’s strength – no matter whether in Israel or in chutz l’aretz – is putting Hashem first in our vision and respecting our brethren. 

Wishing you a good Shabbas. 

Parshas Re’eh: The World’s Delight

 A common discussion among those who are just exploring religious observance is whether Judaism follows asceticism, denying oneself worldly pleasures in an effort to achieve holiness. Judaism, however, has a very positive view of worldly things, meaning that Jewish philosophy encourages us to use the physical to uplift ourselves and the world. Bless the food that you are enjoying. Use your home to hosts guests. Enjoy the beauty of nature as a means of praising the Artist. There have, of course, been individuals or groups that have taken upon themselves extra fasting or that which might appear like asceticism, but the underlying philosophy has never been that the physical is bad.

This week's parsha, Parshas Re'eh, includes a section on the laws of kosher animals. "A-ha!" a skeptical person might argue noting that Judaism frames the physical world in good and bad this way. However, this, again, is only when one looks at Torah through an outside perspective. The non-kosher animals are not bad, they just have roles in the world other than food. 

Because aspects of the physical world are our tools for elevating ourselves, we do not label them good or bad. All of the world is Hashem’s creation; therefore, none of it is bad. However, just because something is good (or isn’t bad) doesn’t mean that it is good for us. This is one of the biggest and most important concepts that we have in Judaism. Just because you can do/have/take something, doesn’t mean you should. 

We are not able to truly understand the chok that underlies the laws of kashrut – why cows are fine to eat but not rabbits – because we are unable to witness the spiritual ramifications of our diet. (Unlike eating cakes and candies without limit, which we do see the results of.)

Interestingly, the laws of kashrus recorded in Devarim 14 are followed by the commandment to set aside a tenth of all one’s yield from the field and to consume it “in the presence of Hashem your God, in the place where [God] will choose to establish the divine name, so that you may learn to revere Hashem your God forever” (14:24). If, however, a person deems himself too far to bring his tithe, the Torah states: “You may convert them into money. Wrap up the money and take it with you to the place that Hashem your God has chosen, and spend the money on anything you want—cattle, sheep, wine, or other intoxicant, or anything you may desire. And you shall feast there, in the presence of Hashem your God, and rejoice with your household” (14:26-27).

It is almost easy to miss those words, uvchol asher tishalacha naphshecha – anything that your soul desires. Take the financial value of your tithe, go to this holy place, and enjoy the fruits of your labor – whatever you like (obviously kosher) – and do it with Me (Hashem).

Hashem gave Adam and Chava dominion over the world and all that is in it. Hashem gave humankind bechira so that we can choose to have a relationship with Him, and one of the ways Hashem shows His love to us is through giving us a physical world with pleasure. We, in return, demonstrate our love and respect for Hashem by taking those gifts in the manner that best enhances our spiritual selves. 

This week, as we enter the last month of the year – the month in which we proclaim that Hashem, the King, is “in the field,” nearby and ready to hear our petitions – let us demonstrate our joy in this relationship by rejoicing in His full Creation. 

Have a good Shabbas. 

It seems to be that this year there has been a surge in the publication of works on Emuna, on faith, and Bitachon, trust in Hashem. The works, both old and new, line display tables of the Jewish bookstores, and it is impossible not to recognize the tremendous need that Jews today feel for connecting to our True Source. 

The topic of emunah in the 21st century can be complicated. Those of us raised in the mixture of western society know that emunah means far more than faith or belief, even as we live surrounded by a society in which faith and belief are the end goals of religion. Indeed, even in the most recent of movements of wokeism, what you believe is what defines truth. That is not emunah.

Emunah takes work. That work is defined almost succinctly by Devarim 10:12: “And now, Israel, what does Hashem your God ask from you all, just that you fear with awe Hashem your God to walk in His path and to love Him and to serve Hashem your God with all your heart and with all your soul.” Neither Moshe nor the Torah define this as Emuna, but our tradition teaches us that true emunah and bitachon (faith and trust) in Hashem means knowing that all that Hashem does is for the good and therefore trying to do everything in the way that Hashem wants. 

If the Torah makes clear what we need to do to serve Hashem, why do we need so many books on emunah? Perhaps part of that answer comes from our very human desire to ignore the idea that Hashem created and runs the world on a concept of consequences, on cause and effect. Hashem controls every aspect of the universe (as the parsha also notes: Behold, the heavens to their uttermost reaches belong to your God Hashem, the earth and all that is on it!) but He set that universe up to specific parameters and then set even more specific parameters for the Jewish people. 

This week’s parsha, which talks so much about what Bnei Yisrael must do and feel, is parshas Eikev. which opens: “And it will be the consequence if you obey these rules and observe them carefully, your God Hashem will maintain faithfully for you the covenant made on oath with your fathers” (7:12). Eikev, consequence, that which comes from an action… this is how Hashem created the world. The world has consequences. Emunah has consequences. In the Shaar Habitachon it is pointed out that if a person is determined to believe in the power of money or avodah zarah or even himself, then Hashem allows him to live life with that delusion, allows him to experience the consequence of that false faith. 

When one lives with emunah and bitachon, however, the consequences result not in a demonstration of wealth and glory but in the symbiotic relationship in which a person truly  lives to love and serve Hashem and therefore feels the constant wealth of Hashem’s blessing.

We today publish so many books on emunah because in the age of technology and in an era of hedonism, those consequences are harder and harder to witness. We live in a time where things seem to be going so very wrong and yet understanding how it is wrong is a critical part of emunah and bitachon. Even in the darkest moments, Bnei Yisrael must hold fast to the fact that “Yet it was to your ancestors that Hashem was drawn out of love for them, so that you, their lineal descendants, were chosen from among all peoples—as is now the case” (10:15).

This Shabbas, or whenever you can throughout your days, take a moment and think about that most critical relationship. Start with gratitude, with the recognition of what Hashem has provided, and take the steps to let your emunah grow. (There are probably several books I might suggest!)

We are all works in progress on emuna and bitachon. It’s a journey; it’s work – But it’s worth it. 

...Va’etchanan continues Moshe’s parting words to Bnei Yisrael, and one can see within his words his deep love for the people he has led. The second aliyah, which is Devarim 4:5-40, begins with a statement of the greatness of Klal Yisrael – a statement that is meant to be an eternal warning and inspiration: “See, I have imparted to you laws and rules, as my God Hashem has commanded me, for you to abide by in the land that you are about to enter and occupy. Observe them faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and discernment to other peoples, who on hearing of all these laws will say, ‘Surely, that great nation is a wise and discerning people’” (Devarim 4:5-6)

The chukim and mishpatim of Bnei Yisrael were Divinely unique in their path to set the nation on track both civilly, morally, and spiritually. The laws were designed to address bein adam l’chavero, bein adam l’atzmo, and bein adam l’Makom. And the laws were given to help Bnei Yisrael become a unique example that people would wish to emulate. 

Moshe needed the people to know that it is a path of greatness and that it is a path that requires great effort: “But take utmost care and watch yourselves scrupulously, so that you do not forget the things that you saw with your own eyes and so that they do not fade from your mind as long as you live. And make them known to your children and to your children’s children” (4:9). 

These verses may seem like a continuation of previous admonishments in the Torah, but they are unique because these are not Hashem’s words, these are Moshe’s. The verses within this section of the parsha weave between “I”s and “You”s. When Moshe is telling the people what they should and should not do, it is not a rebuke but a testament of his love for them, his love that came at a tremendous personal cost. 

“Now Hashem was angry with me on your account and swore that I should not cross the Jordan and enter the good land that your God Hashem is assigning you as a heritage” (4:21). Moshe hurts, emotionally, because he cannot enter the land with the people. But this is not Moshe complaining. This is Moshe trying to make certain that the people before him and the generations to come receive the most important message. Hashem keeps His word, always. Indeed, numerous commentaries discuss why, at the opening of the parsha and here, Moshe claims his punishment is “on your account.”

As summarized on Aish.com: “The Ohr HaChaim takes this same approach to its inescapable conclusion: Had Moshe entered the Land, the Temple would have been built – and could never have been destroyed; such was the spiritual power of Moshe. Had the Jews sinned despite this spiritual center, God would have destroyed the people, while the building [the temple] would have remained standing, intact and unscathed. God did not allow Moshe to enter the Land so that He could take out his "anger" on the building, on the stone and mortar of the Beit haMikdash, rather than on the people who had transgressed. The people would be exiled, not annihilated. Thus, Moshe rightly explains, his own punishment was ‘for your sakes.’”

Moshe’s punishment is “on your account” looking forward, not backward. And looking forward, Moshe knows: “When you have children and grandchildren, and are long-established in the land, and you become corrupt and make a sculpted image, the likeness of anything, and do evil in the eyes of God, your God, provoking Him to anger. I call heaven and earth this day to witness against you that you shall soon perish from the land that you are crossing the Jordan to possess; you shall not long endure in it but shall be utterly wiped out from it” (4:25-26).

Note the use of the personal pronoun “I.” This is Moshe speaking. This is not Moshe conveying Hashem’s words, but Moshe passionately telling the people that he knows that they ...

Parshas Devarim begins Moshe’s presentation of the events that transpired to the Jewish people and the travels they made. It may see strange since that which he describes in the second half of the parsha took place within the last few years, but it is objectively difficult to understand the significance of the times one is living through. Moshe is, therefore, reframing the events – the wars and interactions with the nearest neighbors of the Promised Land – to strengthen the faith of the people before him and to clarify history for the generations to follow. 

 Given that Bnei Yisrael have not yet entered the Promised Land, there is an impressive amount of conquest that occurs in Parshas Devarim. Specifically, Moshe goes into great detail about the wars with the Amorites and the Bashonites, specifically about how powerful they were and how they resided in the lands of giants. Indeed, Moshe even states that the bed of Og, King of Bashan, was “nine cubits long and four cubits wide according to the cubit of the man” (Devarim 3:11). While the detailing of these tremendous victories may have been an excellent pep talk before entering the Promised Land, anyone reading the parsha cannot fail to note that these nations were wiped out completely, “At that time we captured all his towns, and we doomed every town—men, women, and children —leaving no survivor” (2:34). And there is no denying, from a 21st century perspective, that this is shocking turn of events. It is so shocking a statement that it is easy to forget that Bnei Yisrael did not attack the Amorites, but, rather, they requested safe passage. The response was a full out attack, and the results were as stated above.

 Bnei Yisrael was not then, nor is it now, a bellicose nation. There is no instance in the Torah before they arrive at the Land of Israel where Bnei Yisrael specifically set out to conquer land. In fact, Hashem was very specific with them about not attacking land that He had promised to other nations such as Edom, Amon, and Moav. It was only once the Amorites and Bashanites attacked that Hashem gave the enemy “into their hands.” And it was only once these nations had been defeated that it was determined to be acceptable for two tribes, upon their own request, to settle there. What Parshas Devarim makes clear is that Bnei Yisrael had one goal, and that was the land that had been promised to and surveyed by Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.

 Underlying everything that is occurring in Parshas Devarim is the idea of the Divine promise of land. It is a foundational belief of Judaism that Hashem owns the world and determines the specific lands of the nations. Thus, the area of Har (Mount) Seir is specified for Edom and etc.. 

 It is nearly impossible to come to Parshas Devarim for a second time during Israel’s current state of war and not use this as an opportunity to make grave political statements about the situation. There is no desire for the atrocities of war – in the wars above and in future wars, utter destruction only came at the command of Hashem. War in the Torah has a goal, and that goal – except for the directives against Amalek – is twofold the protection of the people (thus the Midianites, Amorites, and etc) and settlement of the Promised Land. And even in the wars of conquest yet to come, there were instructions on the means of avoiding utter cruelty. 

 The current situation is incredibly complex. War is a terrible thing, and it is always most cruel and devastating to the one’s least involved in the war itself. We do not have, today, a Divine voice telling us how to finish this war, and so we are left in the human quagmire. What we do know is that defending ourselves to our full strength against one who attacks us is as well-documented in Jewish tradition as the preciousness of the Promised Land. 

 This Shabbas is Shabbas Chazon, ...