Parshas Ki Tova – Words that Express Relationship.

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.”

 

This is reflected powerfully in one of the understandings of the Ohr Hachaim on pasuk 18: “Still another thought which may be concealed in our verse is that Hashem, the attribute of Mercy, will participate in judgment of the Jewish people. While it is true that G'd judges everyone and every nation according to their just deserts, i.e. lihiyot l’cha l’-l-okim, in your case, G'd the merciful will cause the Israelites to say (to acknowledge) that His judgment is fair, i.e. they will bless the Lord even when they experience what appears to them to be a harsh judgment” (Sefaria).

 

These are powerful words to hear before the parsha dives into the devastating Tochacha. Here in the parsha in which we read the dramatically devastating punishments that will befall our nation, we also receive the incredibly important reminder that our relationship with Hashem was forged in the wilderness. He will always be our God; we will always be His nation. The relationship is inseverable.

 

Wishing you a beautiful Shabbas and hoping we all have time to contemplate that what we do with this special relationship is a constantly shifting dynamic. How much we claim Hashem through tefilos and mitzvos and basic ahavas and yiras Hashem is a measure for how much the world can respect us as the Am Segula.

 

Parshas Ki Tavo – The Important of Being Good

 As an English teacher, I often ask students to take a large concept and break it down to its most simplified form. Parshas Ki Tavo is, therefore, rather fascinating in its structure in that Bnei Yisrael are first presented with what could be considered a skeleton list of behaviors to be avoided lest one be cursed followed by an extremely detailed composition describing life when blessed by Hashem verses life when cursed by Hashem.

 

The skeletal list of curses, which one expects from the text to be paired with a similar list of blessings but is not, are fascinating. They do not mention any of the halachos that we most associate with living a Torah life, and they do not mention anything about the avodah, although the mishkan and its actions have taken up a large percentage of the Torah thus far. In fact, of all the curses listed, only one could be considered bein adom l’makom – and that one prohibits the making of idols and setting them up in secret, which is a very specified avodah zara.

 

In other words, Hashem is not saying to curse the person who does not keep Shabbas or who eats non-kosher food or who violates the holidays, even though these topics are related numerous times in the Torah. But one who violates basic human decency, that is whom one should curse, and the actions for which one shall be cursed are oddly specific: insulting one’s parents, moving a landmark, misdirecting a blind person, taking a bribe to be a false witness, and etc. Taken as a whole, however, they create broad brush strokes of decency.

 

The only one of the curses that is not hyper-focused, so to speak, is the concluding “Cursed be whoever will not uphold the terms of this Torah and observe them.—And all the people shall say, Amen” (Devarim 27:26). The debate, which one can even say is ongoing as rabbis today prepare divrei Torah, is whether this refers to the just completed list to which it belongs or to the Torah in its entirety. But that is a mute point for now.

 

There is one other subtle unifying factor of these curses. They are all private acts, things that might be done when – or because – there are no witnesses.

 

The curses and the blessings are to be recited just before Bnei Yisrael enter the Promised Land. This warning of the temptations that might follow, the lure of selfish violations of decency, is declared just before Bnei Yisrael are going to leave the safety of Hashem’s palpable presence. These curses are a mother or father telling their newly adult child not to overspend on their credit card. It might not seem problematic and it’s so easy to do, but the repercussions for the future are serious.

 

The curses of transgressors of decency may be directed at entering the Land of Canaan in Parshas Ki Tavo, but the curses are a warning no matter where one lives. And the temptations are far greater in gulus than when Bnei Yisrael lived in the spiritually infused Promised Land, where the recognition of Torah and Hashem was ever-present. So here we are, 2 long millennia in exile constantly encountering a world in which the mores of society are ever changing. Ours, however, should not. Gulus is a world in which Hashem’s face is hidden, in which we struggle to feel the spiritual around us, but the necessity of being a good person – of not doing ill to another even when one thinks they cannot be caught – never goes away.

 

I wish you all a good Shabbas.

 

Parshas Ki Tavo – Curses to Grow By

Modern conversations about religion often focus on the question of what a person gets from having faith. Security, responsibility, a sense of belonging, etc. are all within the range of answers that those studying religion from the outside hypothesize as the source for humanity’s drive toward belief. These inquiries are often paralleled to an assumption that one’s beliefs are meant to make one happy, and happiness is very important to the 21^st century mindset.

 In reality, however, the Torah is not meant to make sure that you, the individual, are living the happiest life you can. Hashem cares that you, the individual, are living life to your utmost potential. It’s not about living your best life but living life as best you can.

 There is a fascinating section of this week’s parsha, Parshas Ki Tavo, that seems to speak to how differently the Torah’s life philosophy is to modern day philosophy. It says: “And Moshe commanded the people on that same day, saying: ‘These shall stand upon Mount Gerisim to bless the people when you have crossed the Jordan: Shimon and Levi and Yehudah and Yissachar and Yoseph and Binyamin. And these shall stand upon Mount Ebal on the curse: Reuvain and Gad and Asher and Zevulan, Dan and Naftali” (27:11-13).

 Based on these verses, it would seem the Torah was about to introduce the recitation of a list of blessings. Instead, it dives right into the Leviim announcing the curses: “Cursed be the man that makes a graven or molten image, an abomination of God…and all the people shall lift up their voices and say: Amein” (27:15).

 Why does the Torah immediately proceed with punishment, with curses? Why doesn’t it say: “Blessed is the man who remains faithful to Hashem in all ways”? Why doesn’t the Torah bless the person who respects his parents, maintains boundaries, helps the blind man not to stumble, and so forth?

 Have you ever heard the popular parenting lectures that stress praising a child for not misbehaving? It is sometimes included under positive re-enforcement. And it’s lovely…in theory. But as a parent, it’s hard to think that one should say “Good job for not smacking your brother today!” because we expect our children to know not to smack each other.

 Living a Torah life is about constraining oneself away from behaviors that are inherently anti-social – not meaning behaviors that make you hard to be around, but behaviors that are damaging to society. The false gods of celebrity and power, so potent in this day and age, have created a society in which everyone feels that they get to define the rules, that everyone’s truth is equal. The Torah announces: “Cursed be he who insults his father or his mother,” and we see, all around us, a society that played with diminishing respect for parents (Hi Bob and Sally!) and now faces a dilemma in which any voice of authority is viewed as optional. Children demand of their parents, and the parents fold…Parents blame the schools, and no one is remembering that the act of respecting is meant to come from the child.

 The Torah was given to Moshe to give to the Bnei Yisrael not as the rule book for when we live in the ideal world but rather for the time before that. Hashem instructs Moshe to instruct the Jewish people before they go into the Promised Land and to present these words of Cursed be the Man as the formula for reminding Bnei Yisrael of the expectations upon them. In listing these verbal curses, however, Hashem is presenting a potent message: You know what the right thing to do is, and in doing it the blessings come naturally. Act in such an ill-befitting manner and be cursed.

 We may not see the constant praise, the reward --- the blessing, for living the way we are supposed to, but we must always be aware that for creating a broken social norm, we shall surely be cursed.

 Wishing you a beautiful Shabbas

Parshas Ki Tavo: Of Course You Need A Basket

Parshas Ki Tavo begins with the mitzvah of Bikkurim, the offering of the first fruits. It is not the first time that the mitzvah of Bikkurim is mentioned in the Torah, but it is the only section in which the ceremony is described in detail. The specifics - taking one’s first fruits of the Promised Land to the Kohein in the House of the Lord and reciting a special declaration – are generally well-known from the holiday of Shavuos and from the annual reading of the Bikkurim declaration as part of the text of the Haggadah. Familiar as the mitzvah may be, there is always something new to be found in the familiar words of the Torah…

The mitzvah of Bikkurim is introduced thus: “When you enter the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a heritage, and you possess it and settle in it, you shall take some of every first fruit of the soil, which you harvest from the land that the Lord your God is giving you, put it in a basket and go to the place where the Lord your God will choose to establish His name” (Devarim 26:1-2).

Bringing the first fruit of the harvest makes sense as an offering; it is almost instinctual. In fact, the very first offering to Hashem was an offering of produce brought by Kayin the son of Adam, who was a farmer (as opposed to Hevel, who was a shepherd). While the requirement of a fruit offering is logical, the wording of the pasuk itself is odd in that it in includes the instruction v’samta va’tene, and you shall place them in a basket. Once might assume, and perhaps it was so in practicality, that one would buy a nice basket in Jerusalem (or close to the designated spot before the Beis Hamikdash was complete). But the pasuk is rather straightforward – “You shall place it in the basket and [THEN] you shall go to the place.”

 The question here is why is it necessary to include an instruction to put the fruit in a basket? Since no one was walking to Jerusalem holding a collection of figs in their hands, it seems obvious that the fruit needs to be put in something. So here we learn that the Bikkurim are not just to be put in any vessel on hand, but specifically in a Tene.

This term, tene, is found 4 times in the chumash, and all of them are in Parshas Ki Tavo – twice in perek 26, in the direct commandment, and twice in perek 28, as part of the blessings and the curses and as an obvious reference to the harvested first fruits. It is therefore apparent that a tene is a rather unique basket. By definition, according to the sages, it was a fairly simply basket woven together from willow branches. Taking an esoteric turn, one might note the oddness of the shoresh (root of the word) Tes – Nun – Aleph, since words that start with Tes are uncommon, as are words that end with Aleph, and one might notice how these three letters are all firmly rooted to the ground, like a tree.*

The inclusion of the instruction to place the fruit in the tene tells us that there is significance to this act in and of itself. Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsh comments, based on Sifri, that by placing that bikkurim in a basket specifically created for this demonstrates that these fruits are to be transported elsewhere.  Rabbi Sholom Wineberg, based on the teaching of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (on Chabad.org), notes that the nature of the tene limits the amount of fruit that one can bring, which reflects  the Baal HaTurim’s discussion that since the numeric value of the letters of tene add up to 60, one should bring 1/60^th. Finally of interest here, Chizkuni comments that one adds dignity to carrying the fruit on the pilgrimage by carrying it in a special container.

 While the tene may have been intended as a simple basket of woven willow, the Mishne describes the ceremony thus: “The rich would bring their bikkurim in baskets overlaid with silver or gold, while the poor used wicker baskets of peeled willow-branches, and the baskets and the bikkurim were given to the priests” (Mishnayos Bikkurim 3:3). It starts with a simple basket made of willow in which to carry the fruit and then, in time, the baskets get fancier until eventually those who can (or think they can) are bringing baskets covered in silver and gold. Whether the intention was the honest desire to enhance the mitzvah or a more selfish urge of one-upmanship, the fancier baskets actually changed the ceremony, as described in Talmud Baba Kama 9a, where it notes that when the Kohanim were given the bikkurim of the wealthy, they returned their baskets to them, but when they received the baskets of the poor, these baskets were kept.

 One might go back to simple wordplay and note how similar in sound tene (Tes-Nun-Aleph) is to the command form of the word Give, Ten (Taf-Nun). The silver and gold overlay ultimately kept one from giving the entire offering to Hashem, since it says: “You shall go to the priest in charge at that time and say to him, ‘I acknowledge this day before the Lord your God that I have entered the land that the Lord swore to our fathers to assign us. The priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down in front of the altar of the Lord your God” (Devarim 26:3-4). The Kohein is meant to take the basket too, but such an enhanced basket is no longer its pure natural element. It is less connected to the offering which it carries.

 As we approach the High Holidays, perhaps there is a lesson that we can take from the mitzvah of bikkurim and the history of this uniquely named basket. On the Yomim Noraim (the Days of Awe), we bring ourselves before Hashem. Now is not the time to overlay ourselves with silver and gold, either physically or spiritually. Enhance the Yom Tov by dressing nice, but not for a fashion show. Prepare yourself for the Yom HaDin (Day of Judgement) by coming forward honestly, not with your actions overlaid by pretty rationalizations.

 The mitzvah of Bikkurim is one which we can only complete in the Promised Land in the days when Hashem once again choose a place to establish His name (bimhera b’yameinu/speedily in our days!) But the lessons we can take from the mitzvah are with us every day.

 

*There is a fascinating discussion of the etymology of the word, perhaps it even being an Egyptian word, but Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein once could read here: https://ohr.edu/yhiy/article.php/8981?showobject=1

 

When It's Ours (Ki Tavo #3)

"Yet to this day the Lord has not given you a mind to understand or eyes to see or ears to hear .... " (Devarim 29:3). This seemingly simple verse is tucked away at the far end of Parsha Ki Tavo, easily missed after reading the heavy words of the Bikkurim declaration, the list of actions worthy of being cursed, and the terrifying description of the path away from Torah and Hashem. In context, these are words of gentle tochacha, as Moshe wonders at how those who had witnessed so many miracles and wonders could still harbor doubts and complaints. And yet, at the same time, this verse is comforting. From our ages old vantage point, our people have borne witness to everything that was promised and everything that was forewarned. We have seen, as well, just how challenged each generation, and each individual, is to be all that Hasherm hopes for us to become. Devarim 29:3 tells us that this too is Divine. 

Parshas Ki Tavo contains some of the most terrifying and heart-wrenching words in the Torah. After 15 verses describing an idyllic life should Bnei Yisrael "obey the Lord your God, to observe faithfully all his commandments" (28:1), the next 53 verses describe the nightmare of going into gulus - nightmares we have seen come true throughout history. Knowing that we can see the actual unfolding of those curses, one must wonder how it is possible for us to continually make the same mistakes. And there in 29:3 is a hint of the answer: that our ability to understand, to see, and to hear the Divine messages that resonate all around us comes from Hashem. 

One could, of course, take this theory, brush their hands off, and declare life solved - they will take on Torah and mitzvos when Hashem makes them ready. That person, however, is missing the more important meaning, which is that this is part of the process of coming to devakus, to clinging to Hashem.  Perhaps there is significance to the fact that this parsha is read in the month of Elul. Right here in pasuk 29:3, there is a rallying cry for teshuva, tefila, and tzedaka. Open your eyes to the needs of others around you - tzedaka. As you daven, listen to your words and try to understand them - tefila. Make connections to other people properly, with empathy and understanding of how they approach the world - teshuva (repairing your relationships bein adam l’chavero). These actions are critical for the neshama to connect to Hashem, and they prepare one, in incremental steps, to receive the ultimate gift from Hashem, which is being able to understand how to be a proper eved to Him. 

On this pasuk, 29:3, Rashi's commentary says In:

I have heard that on the day when Moses gave the Book of the Law to the sons of Levi, as it is written, (Deuteronomy 31:9) “And he gave it to the priests the sons of Levi”, all Israel came before Moses and said to him: Teacher Moses, we, too, stood at Sinai and accepted the Torah, and it was given to us; why, then, do you give the people of your tribe control over it, that they may tomorrow say to us, “Not to you was it given, but to us was it given”? Moses rejoiced at this matter and in reference to this he said to them, (Deuteronomy 27:9) “This day have you become the people [of the Lord thy God]”, meaning, Only this day have I come to understand that you are attached to and have a desire for the Omnipresent.

Only when Bnei Yisrael stood up to take hold of their birthright, stood up to claim it with joy and passion, was Hashem able to complete the process that began at Yetziat Mitzrayim.

Parshas Ki Tavo begins with the required statement recited by one who brings an offering of Bikkurim, first fruits. It is the famous lines of the Passover Haggadah that begin: "An Aramean sought to destroy my forefather…” and continues to summarize going to Egypt and the oppression that followed until Hashem rescued Bnei Yisrael and brought them to the Promised Land. Why recite this history every year? Because every generation, and within that every individual, is on its own unique journey to reach a point where Hashem grants them a mind to understand, eyes to see, and ears to hear - where Hashem helps them claim Torah and Jewish life in their hearts. 

Our communities today are filled with men and women who stepped forward and chose Torah, but it is a process that must happen throughout one’s lifetime. More importantly, it is a process that we must teach to our children, so that they can reach the promised future of the Torah because they have been blessed with understanding, and because they make the active choice to claim it as their own. 

The Curse of Fame (Ki Tavo #1)

For the Jewish people, fame is a curse. It sounds like a cliché, but let’s ignore the usual speculation about how difficult it is to be a celebrity. This isn’t just about the status of those who have succeeded in the arts or politics. Fame is a curse, not for an individual necessarily, but for our people as a whole. The proof is in the Torah: “And you will become an astonishment, an example, and a topic of discussion among all the peoples to whom the Lord will lead you” (Devarim 28:37).

Taken out of context, this might sound like a positive thing. The famous Jewish businessman who went from rags to riches is a success story, isn’t he? That depends on what he does with his success. One could look at the quintessential Jewish success story, Mayer Amshel Rothschild. He not only built an international banking empire, but he and his sons were well-known for their generosity and involvement in the community. Some of the Rothschild descendants made their own marks in the history of the Jewish people through their philanthropy, their political activism, and even their piety. They took their wealth and their name and they used it for good. Alas, as time passed, the power and fame of the family drew some away from the traditions of their people and Rothschilds married into other wealthy but non-Jewish families.

The Rothschilds, however, are an excellent example of how fame may be positive for an individual, even for a family, but less so, in the long term, for our nation as a whole. Among the enemies of our people, the ones keen to spread insidious lies, Rothschild is a code name for Jews running the world and for a cabal of financiers undermining nations.

Put into context, Devarim 28:37 is part of a larger structure:

The Lord will drive you, and the king you have set over you, to a nation unknown to you or your fathers, where you shall serve other gods, of wood and stone. And you will become an astonishment, an example, and a topic of discussion among all the peoples to whom the Lord will lead you. Though you take much seed out to the field, you shall gather in little, for the locust shall consume it. Though you plant vineyards and till them, you shall have no wine to drink or store, for the worm shall devour them. Though you have olive trees throughout your territory, you shall have no oil for anointment, for your olives shall drop off. Though you beget sons and daughters, they shall not remain with you, for they shall go into captivity (36-37).  

All of this is after the Promised Land has failed us because we failed our promise. This is a section of the parsha that begins at 28:15: “But if you do not obey the Lord your God to observe faithfully all His commandments and laws which I enjoin upon you this day, all these curses shall come upon you and take effect.” First the ruination of dwelling in the Promised Land, then exile and persecution.

Devarim 28:37 on its own could mean several things…all of which have been true. It could mean that the Jewish people became the parable of what happens to people who go astray. Christian leaders throughout the ages have often used this either to uplift their congregants by promising that they will not suffer the same fate, to validate Christianity’s cancellation of the Old Testament, or simply to disparage the Jews. It could be a connected to the fact that many people who have never met a Jew will still have heard of the Jewish people or at least some version of “the Hebrews.” This verse could also be read as a warning not to take fame and notability as a good thing, for such a spotlight on our people is one step in a series of consequences that are really a tragedy for our future, as it says in verse 41: “Though you beget sons and daughters, they shall not remain with you for they shall go into captivity.”

Is this relevant for us today? Afterall, we are already living in gulus (exile).

It is wonderful that Jews have found so many ways to be successful. There are prominent Jewish names in a wide variety of fields and one often hears listings of names of Jews who have received the noble pride….but maybe that prominence isn’t such a good thing. Maybe we need to put our people ahead of our personal ambitions and not be the spokesman on every political forefront (right or left) or the face of the financial world or the promoters of a culture of hedonism or even the leaders of the social activist world.

Maybe we should heed the warnings of the curse and remember that this is not our land and, inevitably, these are not our people – that it is very much within the path of the Torah for our actions to become a topic of discussion.

Declarations To Keep You Honest (Ki Tavo)

Parsha Ki Tavo is a parsha of declarations. It opens with the instructions for bringing the offering of the first fruits and includes the famous (a large part of the text of the Haggadah) declaration made at that time:

My father was a fugitive Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation. The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to the Lord, the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression. The Lord freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and portents. He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Wherefore I now bring the first fruits of the soil which You, O Lord, have given me (Deuteronomy 26:5-10).

The second section of the parsha is the instructions for a far less well-known declaration, one to be made by a farmer after he has completed all of the required tithes - a process that covers a three year period. After all of the tithes have been distributed, you shall declare before the Lord your God: I have cleared out the consecrated portion from the house; and I have given it to the Levite, the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, just as You commanded me; I have neither transgressed nor neglected any of Your commandments: I have not eaten of it while in mourning, I have not cleared out any of it while I was unclean, and I have not deposited any of it with the dead. I have obeyed the Lord my God; I have done just as You commanded me. Look down from Your holy abode, from heaven, and bless Your people Israel and the soil You have given us, a land flowing with milk and honey, as You swore to our fathers (26:13-15).

I found this particular declaration requirement to be fascinating. A religious farmer will make certain that all the tithes are covered, so why must there be a spoken declaration. Not only that, the declaration is strangely detailed, referring to the different types of tithes and affirming that it was all done properly. To me, this declaration rang of what the modern era likes to refer to as “mindfulness,” and it is a way of being that is absolutely necessary for the best fulfilment of Jewish law.

After a decade or two of farming, one could easily imagine a farmer falling into a more blasé routine with providing the tithes, far less meticulous than in his first years of fulfilling the mitzvah. Here the Torah provides something better than a checklist. A checklist can be run over in one’s head, “did it, did it, yup, and that...” leaving an easy opportunity for a detail to be missed or a leniency to be forgiven. But the declaration must be stated out loud. Stating something out loud is like passing something through a lie detector test. As one reads through the statement, a soft second voice within affirms whether each part of the task was truly completed.

In these last weeks of the old year, as we approach Rosh Hashana, the inclusion of this requirement to speak past deeds out loud as an affirmation of the proper completion seems particularly pertinent. The declaration at the end of the tithing period is a great lesson in the importance of the act of making a cheshbon hanefesh - an accounting of the soul. Imagine the great strides we might make if we took such an accounting of our “everyday mitzvot!”

Much as I may need it, I am not going to announce a commitment to a daily cheshbon hanefesh. (Cause that might not be very honest of me!) However, just being aware of this passage in the parsha reinforces for me how beautifully Hashem prepared to help each of us on our journey of spiritual growth.