Parshas Haazinu – Israel’s Impact on the World

Dedicated to a Refuah Shelaima for Chaya Sofya Sara bas Mera, Chaya Sarah bas Esther Leah, Tova bas Perel, Binyamin ben Simcha, and Betzalel Tzvi ben Chaya Yocheved.

Parshas Haazinu, this week’s parsha, is not an easy read. Comprised almost entirely of song, it is Biblical poetry, which requires far deeper levels of interpretation to understand the inferences and references. The song of Haazinu was sung by Moshe to the people and reveals the past and the future. It is terrible to hear of the calamities that have, and will continue to, befall us while Hashem’s face is hidden, and comforting to know that all of it balances out with the ultimate redemption that is to come.

Interestingly, the first historical reference that Moshe makes is to the Dor Haflaga, the generation of the Migdal Bavel, the Tower of Babel:

“When the Most High gave nations their lot, when He separated the sons of man, He set up the boundaries of peoples according to the number of the children of Israel. Because the Lord's portion is His people Yaakov, the lot of His inheritance” (32:8-9).

Those familiar with Bereishis might be scratching their heads and contemplating whether they have ever noticed a specific connection to the Tower of Bavel and Bnei Yisrael, and didn’t that take place well before Avraham? Actually, according to the Midrashic calculations, Avraham was 48 years old when Migdal Bavel occurred. He was all ready well on his path of promoting a recognition that there could only be one Creator and Ruler of the Universe.

Migdal Bavel, when the people (led by Nimrod) built a tower to go to war against God, was a declaration of humanity’s intent not to recognize the Ultimate Omnipotence. They inherently knew Hashem was in charge, or else they would not have thought to fight Him. The people took freewill to the extreme and wanted to be free to believe and worship in their idols, which were dependent on humankind, unlike Hashem.

When Hashem struck down the people of the Tower and separated them into nations (linguistically), He could have chosen to make Avraham the greatest nation physically. He could have divided them into small enough subsets that it was guaranteed that Avraham’s descendants would rise above them in power and might. But Haazinu informs us that “He set up the boundaries of peoples according to the number of the children of Israel.”

We often puzzle over the seemingly shrinking population of Klal Yisrael. Our numbers grow but our percentage to the world population is, and has always been, shockingly small. And this makes our impact tremendous.

Some people say this idea and then bring up our vast number of thinkers, scientists, artists, and politicians. The bizarre number of Jewish Noble Prize winners is a frequently stated fact. But the tremendous impact is none of those. The tremendous impact of our consistently small community is spiritual. Through all of the ups and downs our people experience, this is what Hashem needs us to remember. Everything in history became proscribed by the actions of klal Yisrael. “He set up the boundaries of peoples” refers not simply to physical boundaries or linguistic differences, but to the entire development of humanity. Everything is affected by the state of our nation.

This Shabbas is Shabbas Shuva, the Shabbas that falls during the Aseres Ymei Teshuva. Yom Kippur is Sunday night. Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement, and while we often and naturally focus on our personal atonement, it is significant to remember that the Yomim Noarayim affect the entire world. Every nation – and every person – stands in judgement on Rosh Hashana. The very world stands in judgement! And that process continues through on Yom Kippur.

This seemingly simple verse in Parshas Haazinu is a reminder that the boundaries of the peoples are set according to Bnei Yisrael. Our tefilos have the power to change the world, because Hashem set our people aside to be his inheritance.

I want to wish you all a Gmar Chasima Tova, May you individually, and may the entire nation, be sealed in the Book of Good, and may our prayers help heal the world.

Parshas Ha’azinu – A Very Short Thought on the Poetry of Rain

Parshas Ha’azinu holds a unique place in the cycle of the Jewish year. A parsha of pure poetry, and thus  sometimes difficult to distill a Dvar Torah, it is read during the busiest time on the calendar.

 

Reading the parsha on the brink of Sukkot, there is a special inference that one might see in the opening verses of Parshas Ha’azinu: “Hear, O’ Heavens, I shall speak; Let the earth hear the words of my mouth. May my discourse come down like rain; My words flow like dew; like showers on vegetation; and like raindrops on the grass” (Devarim 32:1-2).

 

Although it is a normal poetic form for an idea to be repeated, there is much to learn from Devarim 32:2. Moshe opens his final song with a comparison of his words to rain. We all know that now is the season when we pray for rain. From an agricultural perspective, that prayer would most probably be shaped more specifically as a prayer for the right rain. (Afterall, a monsoon that sweeps away the soil is also rain.)

 

Traditionally, the Torah is compared to Mayim Chaim, to living water. Just as every living creation needs rain, we know that there cannot be life without Torah. And so, Moshe crafts the opening of his final song.

 

We receive Torah in many ways. Sometimes it is the steady repetition of study, an even flow of regular intake that nourishes us evenly. Sometimes we learn Torah gently, like dew, from the regular ebb and flow of life, from the routine of living our lives. Sometimes true Torah has to be thrust upon us, powerful and loud. Sometimes we have to pay special attention around us to notice the Torah.

 

The earth is nourished by rain. Klal Yisrael is nourished by Torah. This is the basic fact of existence.

 

May you all have a Good Shabbas and a true Zman Simchaseinu.

Parshas Ha'azinu: Non-god and Non-people

It is a basic, Jewish theological tenet that the Torah contains everything that has or will happen to the Jewish people. Commentators often point out the odd double language in last week's parsha, hestair astaire panai - I will shortly hide my face - as an allusion to Purim, or the fact that the 25th word in the Torah is ohr, light, and the miracle of Chanukah occurred on the 25th of Kislev. All the more so, it is almost impossible to read the descriptions of Hashem's intended punishments for straying from our relationship with Him, recorded in multiple parshiot, and not see how it has come to pass. The Torah is more than a history book, it is a blue print of history.

Parshas Ha’azinu is almost completely a transcription of the song that Moshe wished the Jewish people to transmit to each of the coming generations. The song ends with redemption, with Hashem stepping in and destroying Israel's enemies. Before that, however, there is a great deal of rebuke-filled prophecy of the times when Bnei Yisrael will fail, will desert Hashem and go in foreign ways.

The Torah uses a wide variety of terms to describe the false gods that might lure Bnei Yisrael, such as asherah, pesel, matseva, elohim, and etc. However, in Parshas Ha’azinu, one finds a fascinating and unique set of terminology: “They provoked Me with a non-god, angered me with their vanities; so shall I provoke them with a non-people, with a vile/foolish nation shall I anger them” (Devarim 32:21). The unique language here is the “non-god,” in Hebrew b’lo-el, which is parralleled by the non-people, b’lo-am.

Perhaps this is the Torah's subtle reference to the Jewish dilemma of the 21st century. We are not being enticed by idolatry. The church is no longer trying to lure in unsuspecting Jews, as it did for many centuries. We are not being threatened with death to force us to convert. In our era, an era that would feel very foreign philosophically (since technologically this would be an obvious statement) to anyone transported from even the 19th century, we must survive something completely new. Bnei Yisrael must maintain our covenant with Hashem in a world that might invoke the “name of the Lord” but whose general idea of religion seems empty compared to era's past. We live in a generation that celebrates "b’lo-el."

And who shall provoke us in this era according to Ha’azinu? B’lo-am, a non-people, which some might say is becoming a definition of North American life where the very ideas of Jewish community, nationality, and unity are being pushed to the side for the rights of the individual. Rashi comments on the phrase “with a vile/foolish nation shall I anger them,” saying: “these are the ‘Minim,’ the heretics. So indeed, it states, (Psalms 14:1) ‘The heretic (נבל) hath said in his heart There is no God’ (Sifrei Devarim 320:10; Yevamot 63b).” And Sforno explained that it referred to a people “possessing neither their own language nor alphabet (Gittin 80)."

So much text in the Torah is dedicated to reminding Bnei Yisrael to stay away from idols or false gods that some might see the growing lack of religion among American youth as a blessing, the dissolution of a threat. But now we can see that this very situation is also warned about in the Torah, and what follows, the Divine retribution that is then described, is terrible. Fire, famine, and general disaster, because falling victim to a theology of b’lo-el is just as terrible as worshipping false gods.

It is commonly understood that we today stand in the shadows of the end of days. It is newly 5,782 on the Jewish calendar and the world as we know it is set, according to tradition, to last until the year 6,000. It is therefore, perhaps, not surprising that the description of the dangers of being enticed by a culture of b’lo-el and b’lo-am is found only here, at the penultimate parsha of the Torah. The song of Ha’azinu is the last thing that Moshe taught the Jewish people, after teaching them this song, he blesses the people and is gathered unto his fathers, as it says, and Joshua takes his place to lead the people forward. Ha’azinu is the song that Moshe wished the people to pass down for generations, so that we today could know that this too was foretold.

Our struggles, our downfalls, and our suffering are the result of cause and effect. Alas, we are victims of our own doing. Parshas Ha’azinu, however, gives us something more than hope. It assures us that while our downfalls may be harsh (ok horrible), Hashem is ready and waiting with our salvation.

This Dvar Torah is dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Dovid Chaim HaCohen ben Tzipora

Haazinu - Every Moment, Every Word

Parshas Haazinu is a difficult parsha about which to write. It is one perak (chapter) of 52 verses, almost all of which are written as a poetic song, a song that contains much of the same theme of punishment and redemption for the nation that has been described in the last few parshios. This song is written and taught to Bnei Yisrael as Hashem commanded Moshe at the end of Vayelech. "And now write for yourselves this song and teach it to Bnei Yisrael. Place it in their mouth in order that this song will be for Me as a witness for Bnei Yisrael" (Devarim 31:19). 

Many great Torah scholars comment that "this song" refers to the whole Torah, while others say it is a reference to Haazinu only. This is not a conflict. Haazinu is the Torah's finale, to borrow a term from Broadway. It is the final song meant to bring everything before it to a fulfilling conclusion and, hopefully, to remain as a tune in one's head. Obviously, this is a lehavdil connection, a droll way of making a point. For Bnei Yisrael to learn Haazinu, to be taught this specific shira by Moshe, was a way for him to emphasize to them the significance of the whole Torah. 

As Moshe finishes teaching Haazinu to the people, he says to them: "Set your hearts to all of the words which I bear witness for you this day, so that you may instruct your children to observe to do all the words of this Torah. For it is not an empty thing for you, for it is your life, and through this thing, you will lengthen your days upon the land to which you are crossing over the Jordan to possess it" (32:46 - 47). Coming so close after the shira of Haazinu, these verses are easy to overlook, but they hold a message of great importance. You cannot memorize the entire Torah, so let this final song echo in your minds and remind you constantly of the Torah, to do all of its words - for none of this is meaningless to you. 

In one part of his commentary on verse 32:47, Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch notes an important concept that is the foundation of Jewish life and Torah scholarship: "In the whole Torah there is no word in which you, i.e. your whole existence and your purposes, is not included in it. No single word of the Torah is indifferent to you. In every one you can find important truths which have a bearing on your whole life." And so we study it, year after year. In just two weeks, on Simchas Torah, we will start the Torah reading cycle all over again, and we will continue to find revelations in it that we just did not see last year, or ideas and guidance that had never been needed before.

Necham Leibowitz, in her Studies in Devarim: Haazinu 5, explains a beautiful thought by the Netziv (Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin):

The Netziv points here to the essential quality of poetry as it condensation and compressed nature and its allusiveness. This 19th century Talmudist, steeped in Rabbinic law, expresses, in his own language, the distinctions between prose and verse that have been defined for us, today, in technical terminology by modern literary critics and students of semantics. Poetry is essentially symbolic, and requires constant reading over, in order to taste its full significance. It has many levels of meaning.

From a writing point of view, the Torah has an incredible array of styles - flowing narrative, sketched prose, terse commandments, and, of course, direct poetry and songs. Each of these "styles" may speak more to one person or another, but, as Ms. Leibowitz continues: 

The lesson contained in these concluding verses of the Torah is the importance of each detail. There is nothing superfluous in the Torah and no sliding scale of values between its different portions. This seemingly most insignificant and prosaic detail hidden in the folds of a story is of equal importance to its philosophy and fundamental laws. All goes under the name of "Torah." If we can find no significance in a particular detail, if it is "a vain thing," then the fault is ours and due to our lack of understanding, our failure to labour to discover its meaning.

Even the transitions of the sections of the Torah have meaning and significance. In fact, it interesting to note that after the powerful words of verse 32:47, the parsha concludes with Hashem instructing Moshe to ascend to Mount Nebo to see the land and then finish his life "because you betrayed me in the midst of Bnei Yisrael at the waters of meribah" (32:51). At the waters of meribah, Moshe heard Hashem's instructions to talk to the rock but struck it instead; Moshe chose not to listen to the specific words, but to act from his own instinct. He wants his people not to make the same mistakes. In verse 32:47, this is what he is warning Bnei Yisrael against. This song, this Torah, the words of Hashem, are not empty - they are everything. They are what will entitle you to this land. 

They say that the Bible is the most read books in the world (although Harry Potter may be catching up - just kidding!). A person who has no faith may not understand why that is, but for Jews of every time, these words connect. Even when we do not understand their meaning, they resonate in our neshamos, our souls. This brings to mind Rabbi Shimshon Rephael Hirsch's other explanations of verse 32:47, in which we see a powerful encapsulation of the significance of Torah to ourselves in all times: "This testifying exhortation for you to understand and keep the Torah is not a speech which does not concern your whole existence and purposes, it contains your whole existence." 

We are in a period between the Day of Judgement and the Day of Atonement, the Shabbas on which we are meant to be focused on teshuva, repentance. Think about Moshe’s words, about his warning that none of this should be “empty” to you. The basic understanding that Torah is life needs to be the driving force of our actions. At the very least, we should be challenging ourselves to reach for that as a goal. When we do proper teshuva we are acknowledging that we understand exactly how critical Torah is to our lives. 

Let It Rain Words of Torah (Haazinu #2)

During this auspicious time of year, we are exposed to an abundance of drashot (sermons) and divrei Torah. In the world of social media, this translates to a host of video clips speeches as well. All in all, there is a great surge of words coming at us, and these words are important, for these are the words meant to inspire us to teshuva.

The majority of this week's parsha is what one might call Moshe's final sermon, although, in truth, the words of Haazinu are the words of the song Hashem taught to Moshe and Yehoshua to teach to Bnei Yisrael. The opening verses contain what one might say is an allegorical encouragement for giving Torah sermons. The parsha begins: "Give ear, O heavens, let me speak; Let the earth hear the words I utter! May my discourse come down as the rain, My speech distill as the dew, like showers on young growth, like downpours on the grass."

In these four phrases there is one common metaphor - forms of water. In fact, one could even say it is specifically water that comes from shemayim. Most of the time when one hears the comparison of Torah to water, to mayim chayim, one thinks of a river or a lake, a clean body of water thriving with life and necessary for life. But rain and dew are also forms of mayim chayim.

The Tzena Urena points out on this verse that the Midrash says: “Just as rain gives life to the entire world, so the Torah gives life to the entire world; just as dew brings joy to the people, so Torah brings joy to people.” The terms used in the first two phrases are matar and tal, just as we daven throughout the “rainy” season (in Israel) by adding “ten tal umatar" to our prayers. Tal and matar are physical blessings, so it is interesting that the second set of phrases use less familiar terms: saeerim and rvieevim. Saeerim, according to Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, could be connected to the word saeer, hair, perhaps referring to streams of rain so thick as to be visible. Riveevim, he translates as a downpour, based on the word's connection to the Hebrew word rov. The Tzena Urena explains on the word saeerim that the subtext was: “My words are like a storm wind which comes on the grass, as if it wishes to uproot it. In truth, this wind is beneficial to the grass and the crops for the wind makes it grow and strengthens it.”

Rain comes in many forms. Perhaps Moshe is telling the people, and the generations to come, that the words of Torah that he is about to impart - words that foretell hard times and teshuva – must also be seen as an over-arcing blessing. Rav Hirsch comments that Moshe wanted his words to be:

"Taking into and to the hearts of his people, and the soil of their minds and hearts which had so long remain hard had become softened and loosened, so that the seed of light and warm, of knowledge and life could come up and shoot forth, and that his promises, refreshing like the dew, would always provide the courage of his people and keep them up right in the hard times that lay before them, that both - the Torah and the Promises - would prove themselves purifying like storm-showers on the meadows and finally fructifying like a rich and plentiful fall of rain on vegetation."

Nothing in Torah is by chance, and it is not a coincidence that we read these words on the eve of Sukkot. Not only is Sukkot the time when we begin to daven for rain, and thus benefit from remembering that the bracha of rain comes in many forms, but it is the holiday during which we remind ourselves to be aware that our successes, both agricultural and otherwise, are blessings from Hashem. If we can keep that in mind throughout the year and remember to put our Avodas Hashem and His Torah first, then we can move towards the promised return written in the song of Haazinu.

Generations and Individuals (Haazinu)

A common term in the Torah is the word "dor," meaning generation. One often gets the sense that, from a Torah perspective, each generation is considered unique. Sometimes the difference between generations is great; sometimes it is subtle. It is also part of the Jewish perspective that each generation is “weaker” than the generation before in that they are one step farther from Matan Torah. This is emphasized in the verse in this week’s parsha: “Remember the days of old. Consider the years of ages past. Ask your father, he will inform you, your elders and they will tell you” (Deuteronomy 32:7).

The majority of parshat Ha’azinu contains the song that Moshe and Yehoshua were instructed by God to write in parshat Vayeilech (“And now write for yourselves this song and teach it to Bnei Yisrael to place it in their mouths; in order that this song will be for Me a witness against Bnei Yisrael” - 31:19). The song reiterates the message stressed in the previous parshiot that the Children of Israel would earn the wrath of God by turning to idolatry, the other nations would be given power over them, and eventually the Jewish people would be redeemed.

In Moshe’s song, it was made clear that the challenges the people would face would be a reflection of the generation: “Children unworthy of Him - That crooked, perverse generation - Their baseness has played Him false. Do you thus requite the Lord, O dull and witless people?” (32:5-6). What is not made clear in the Torah was that this would be a repetitive situation that would last for generations. Each generation, far too many, have been to Hashem “a treacherous generation, Children with no loyalty in them” (32:20).

The general message of the culpability of the generation(s) can be quite jarring since we live in a time when Hashem has fulfilled his declarations and hidden His face from us. Moshe understood that even as his song concluded with our reunion with the Divine, the triumph of Hashem, and the decimation of our enemies, it would be easy for Bnei Yisrael to feel as if their overarching goal of serving Hashem was unachievable. And so Moshe said to them: “Focus your thoughts on all of the statements that I am bringing to witness against you today, which you are to command your sons to guard and to fulfill all the statements of this Torah. For it is not a futile thing for you, for it is your life...” (32:47).

Living in a generation from which Hashem has hidden His presence is not easy. One can gain solace and faith by looking back at who we were and the holy level of our forefathers, but Judaism, while respecting and honoring those who came before, is a system of the here and now. Not one of us can know the impact of our actions and whether that will impact the path of the generation. Furthermore, the Torah constantly reminds us of the importance of teaching all of the Torah to the future generation, for none of us live in a vacuum and every generation carries on the mission of the ultimate triumph of acknowledgement of Hashem. Our actions are individually potent, and while we may not be living in our ideal state, the Torah remains the path of life.