Parshas Noah: Unique and Distinct

 Parshas Noah: Unique and Distinct

 We humans share the earth with a plethora of other life, and one of the most complicated questions modern society has had to resolve is how we view our role in the grand spectrum of earthly life. In Parshas Noah, Noah and his family are given the job of preserving the animals, of taking two – or seven – of each species and making certain that they survive the great flood. This, of course, fulfilled Hashem’s original dictate: “Hashem blessed them and Hashem said to them, ‘Be fertile and increase, fill the earth and master it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and all the living things that creep on earth.’” (Bereishis 1:28).

 While this pasuk is often translated as “rule over,” the wording of dominion allows for a broader understanding, one in which we humans are caretakers. This means that we have a constant and grave responsibility to think about how we treat the environment, about how interact with all types of life forms.

 One could say that Noah fulfilled this role in a way no other ever accomplished. He literally had the responsibility of saving the lives of every non-marine animal on the planet, so he certainly was their caretaker Except, Noah didn’t think of it on his own; he did it as a direct command from Hashem.

 Of course, if one is a true animal lover, one might worry about all the rest of the animals – the ones that perished in the flood. But there are commentaries that talk about the way the animals became corrupted by the behavior of humankind, and this, it is said, is why they were destroyed – in the same way as humankind, with only a choice set preserved for the next stage of the earth.

 The next stage of the earth…after the flood, when Noah and his wife and their sons and daughters-in-law emerged from the ark, was not only a moment of the earth’s rebirth, but a time when the dynamic of human and animal life shifted.

 Bereishis 9 says: “Hashem blessed Noah and his sons, and said to them, ‘Be fertile and increase, and fill the earth.’” – Note the same language – “The fear and the dread of you shall be upon all the animals of the earth and upon all the birds of the sky—everything with which the earth is astir—and upon all the fish of the sea; they are given into your hand” (9:1-2). The question that seems immediately apparent is why does Hashem now introduce a dynamic in which the animals shall have fear and dread of humans?

 The easy answer is that in the next verse, 9:3, the right to eat flesh is introduced. Let’s pause, however, and remember that the order of the verses has its own significance. Hashem shifted the dynamic between animal and man and then gave man the right to eat meat. We can assume that one thing is tied to the other, but the truth is that Hashem could have given humans the right to eat meat and still left animals with a passive response to mankind. Why then did Hashem separate humanity in such a way from the rest of the living creatures on earth?

 Perhaps the world fell into violence as it did because humanity at the time was unable to distinguish themselves from the animals, because they saw their role as rulers or caretakes as one that left them confused by the distinctions. While Adam was created at the same time as the animals, Adam’s creation was completely different. Adam, the first human – and all humans after – were a synthesis of heaven and earth, of the spiritual and the physical. Perhaps the generations before the flood were unable to understand the expectations of that synthesis. Perhaps they were too in touch with their animal side. And then, after all that time in the ark, living together with the animals, Hashem made it clear throughout the world that there is, indeed, a difference.  Just because we are meant to take care of the wildlife of the planet does not mean we are to be the wildlife of the planet.

 It’s wonderful if you love animals – or if you have an animal that you specifically have a connection to. But, you are human. You are unique and distinct amongst all that Hashem Created.

 Wishing you all a beatufiful Shabbas.

 

 

 

 

Parshas Beirishis: A Lesson from Kayin

It is often discussed how Sefer Bereishis is a historical map for the Jewish people, how everything that occurred to our ancestors repeats through history. That leaves a question. What lessons do we learn from Parshas Bereishis? If you’re laughing because the answer appears to be beyond counting, that is certainly legitimate. We learn about the creation of the world, about mankind’s need to pray, about our responsibility to take care of the world, and etc.

 

One thing we most certainly learn from the very beginning of the Torah, from the very beginning of humanity, is that people make mistakes – some small and some tremendous. But that is a lesson for all of humanity; what is the lesson for Klal Yisrael?

 

One might, interestingly enough, look to Kayin for a lesson that can offer great chizuk to Bnei Yisrael. Cain, as he is called in English, has an infamous reputation. He murdered his brother in the heat of jealousy – which of course is a wonderful narrative to pull apart for its intricacies of human nature. Let us, however, look at the consequence of his actions.

 

Hashem says to Kayin: “And now, you are cursed even more than the ground, which opened its mouth to take your brother's blood from your hand. When you till the soil, it will not continue to give its strength to you; you shall be a wanderer and an exile in the land” (Bereishis 4:11-12).

 

This curse is a terrible thing, and all the more so when you remember that while Hevel had been a shepherd, Kayin had been a farmer. He lost everything, including his identity. Nevertheless, it is hard to be sympathetic to a murderer, even if we empathize with some of the emotions that drove him to act; his conscious decision to strike his brother down refutes that sympathy.

 

It is Kayin’s reaction to his punishment, however,  that holds the important lesson for Bnei Yisrael.

 

“And Kayin said to the Lord, ‘My iniquity is too great to bear? Behold You have driven me today off the face of the earth, and I shall be hidden from before You, and I will be a wanderer and an exile in the land, and it will be that whoever finds me will kill me’” (13-14).

Kayin is concerned about the how he will survive in the world, but first and foremost he is concerned about his relationship with HaKadosh Baruch Hu. He recognizes in Hashem’s punishment something that Hashem had not explicitly stated. Hashem never said that Kayin was banished from Hashem’s presence, but Kayin understood that Hashem had designed the earth to nourish mankind. He remembered that the world had not grown anything until his father, Adam, had prayed for rain, and that rain set the growth in motion. Kayin knew that the need to labor was the consequence of Adam and Chava’s eating of the fruit – but also that Adam’s labor brought him and all his descendants an appreciation for the blessings Hashem gave. Now he would be separated from those blessings, a step removed.

 

Hashem’s response is to declare “‘Therefore, whoever kills Kayin, vengeance will be wrought upon him sevenfold," and the Lord placed a mark on Kayin that no one who find him slay him” (4:14).

 

What is the lesson here? Of course, we know that it is never too late to call out to Hashem; it’s never too late to do teshuva. But on a larger scale, we, Bnei Yisrael, are in a similar position. We have sinned – sinned to such an extent that we have been exiled. We know that Hashem has hidden His face from us and that the nations turn an unkind eye towards us, revile us, and seek to do us ill knowing, on a metaphysical level, that Hashem has turned his face away.

 

However, when we call out as Kayin did – putting the perspective first and foremost on our relationship with Hashem rather than on our worldly situation, Hashem provides the protection we need.

 

I wish you all a beautiful Shabbas.

Yom Kippur: The Goat at the End

I want to start off by saying how impressed I was with so many of the divrei Torahs this year. Due to time constraints, I put them into word docs each week and printed them off to read on Shabbas, so I apologize for not having the wherewithal after to go back and send regards/thoughts/compliments.

It’s hard to think of what to write for Yom Kippur. There is so much to say and yet so much has already been said. Also, many of us don’t have time to sit down and read a long Dvar Torah right now. Erev Yom Kippur, at least in my household, has always ended up being a bizarrely busy day. (So what are you all cooking for the seuda, anyway?!?) And here I go, already making excuses for why my preparation was, perhaps, a little shoddy…here I go using my household as my scapegoat.

Ok, that’s, perhaps, a flexible definition of the idea of a scapegoat, but what better time than Yom Kippur to discuss this puzzling and mysterious ritual. To the 21^st century ear, it sounds highly...archaic, especially when one looks at the mepharshim that explain Azazel as a demon…

The fact of the matter is that the entire ritual is one that commentators in almost every generation have had to strive to understand. Not only is there debate over what the term Azazel means, but the actual fate of the goat is argued. Some sources describe the goat being thrown from a cliff in such a way that it was torn apart by the time it was halfway down the mountain (described by Rabbi Eliyahu Munk* as having a stone tied to its horn so that it was walloped after it was shoved off the cliff). On the other hand, there are sources that describe the goat being released into a bleak wilderness where it would slowly die from lack of food and water.  Whether you are disturbed by the idea of sending a sacrifice to a demon (or a representative of the satan) or by the seemingly blatant tzar baalei chaim, the fact of the matter remains that the ceremony of the two goats is an integral aspect of Yom Kippur.

 To briefly address the idea of Azazel as a who rather than a place, the following idea is from ravkooktorah.org: The abstract knowledge that evil also has a purpose in the world must be acknowledged in some fashion in our service of God. This acknowledgment occurs in the elevated service of Yom Kippur. In practical ethics, however, there is no place for this knowledge. Heaven forbid that evil should be considered good, or that the wicked should be considered righteous. Therefore, the goat for Azazel was sent to a desolate, barren place — a place uninhabited by people. Human society must be based on a just way of life, led by aspirations of holiness and purity. (Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 200-201. Adapted from Olat Re’iyah vol. II p. 357; Shemonah Kevatzim IV:91, V:193)

 Our aspirations are toward holiness and purity, so it is important for us to wrap our 21^st century brains around this significant ritual. What were we doing with these goats?

 Let’s review the basics. Two goats, as alike in appearance as possible, were brought before the Kohen Gadol. Lots were drawn to determine which fate belonged to which goat. One goat was taken and offered as a korban. The other goat was then burdened, so to speak, with the sins of klal Yisrael and sent off to Azazel. Here’s another strange bit. What does it mean that the sins of Klal Yisrael were placed on the goat?

 Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks notes that Sin and guilt offerings are familiar features of the Torah and a normal part of the service of the Temple. The service of Yom Kippur was different in one salient respect: in every other case, the sin was confessed over the animal that was sacrificed. On Yom Kippur, the High Priest confessed the sins of the people over the animal that was not sacrificed, the scapegoat that was sent away, “carrying on it all their iniquities” (Lev. 16:21-22).

 Here is another question… this part of the avodah of Yom Kippur occurred around midday, when already the people were already afflicting themselves as commanded by the Torah to bring kapara, so wasn’t the personal acts of devotion enough?

 There are, perhaps, two ways of looking at these questions. Rabbi Sacks presents an interesting idea: Yom Kippur deals not only with our sins as individuals. It also confronts our sins as a community bound by mutual responsibility. It deals, in other words, with the social as well as the personal dimension of wrongdoing. Yom Kippur is about shame as well as guilt. Hence there has to be purification (the removal of the stain) as well as atonement…Shame cannot be removed by forgiveness. The victim of our crime may have forgiven us, but we still feel defiled by the knowledge that our name has been disgraced, our reputation harmed, our standing damaged. We still feel the stigma, the dishonour, the degradation. That is why an immensely powerful and dramatic ceremony had to take place during which people could feel and symbolically see their sins carried away to the desert…”

 But perhaps there are also the personal sins involved. Let’s be honest, as Yom Kippur approaches we all try our hardest to do honest teshuva but are aware that it is probable that the aveiros we need to ask mechila for are ones that we don’t actually remember. To that end, we casually walk around and approach people we know and ask for blanket mechila – you know, for anything I might have done to hurt you. Here we are on Yom Kippur seeking out mechila and kapara and we aren’t even sure for what. Perhaps, and this is my own humble thought and not sourced, perhaps these were the types of sins “collected” by the Kohen Gadol and placed upon the goat.

 This little goat has a lot to bear but let us look at one more facet of the scapegoat. In his essay “On the Phenomenon of the Scapegoat for Azazel” in The Just Still Live by His Faith, Rabbi Eliyahu Munk notes that “All those Israelites who repent their sins out of love of G-d do not need the scapegoat to carry their sins at all.” This was a fascinating point to read as it echoed the ideas spoken of by Rabbi Aryeh Kerzener (Agudah Yisrael of Montreal) in his Shabbas Shuva Shiur. The gemara in Yuma 86 states that repentance from love of Hashem converts sins into merit – this is a high madrega! What other repentance is there? Repentance from fear. These sins, according to Rabbi Munk “are only being squashed…therefore the impurity created by such sins returns to its origin, but does not vanish from the universe.”

 The sins we atone for out of fear go from deliberate to b’shogag, by accident, and thus can be placed on the goat because their burden of guilt has been lessoned. There is, however, still guilt, still a sense of something that Hashem will want to punish us for, and thus creating only more Yiras Hashem. Yiras Hashem is good. It’s important. But Hashem wants our true Ahava. Hashem does not want us to repent because we want to be forgiven so we will not be punished. Hashem wants us to come to the point where our teshuva is truly for the purpose of coming closer to Him, because we love Him so much that we do not want to have anything that distances us from Him. Hashem is taking them away from us, ritually, with great finality so that, perhaps – ideally, we can see the path forward to pure Ahavas Hasham.

 I would love to go further into the thoughts shared by Rabbi Kerzner on the significant interchange of mitzvos and aveiros (he discussed how sometimes we don’t even realize that our mitzvos can also be aveiros), but this is now running long and we all have much to accomplish today.

 To conclude, let me ask all who know me for mechila for anything I might have done 😊.

In all seriousness, however, let us hope that we are soon in the time when we have true clarity on this ritual, but when the ritual is no longer needed or our understanding of Hashem is so clear and present that all of our actions are based on our ahavas Hashem. Until that time, let us look upon all of the mysteries of Yom Kippur, and Jewish life in general, with a recognition that there is always far more depth in Hashem’s perception then in ours.

 

Gmar Chasima Tova to all of you.

 

Parshas Haazinu- Reflections on the Moment In-Between

This Shabbas is Parshas Haazinu. It is also Shabbas Shuva. It is the closest Shabbas can be to Yom Kippur, which could cause some people a bit of stress but shouldn’t. After all, how wonderful is it that between the Day of Rest when we, ideally (cough cough), focus on our spirituality and the Day of Atonement -  we are not challenged by mundane days of work, when we might be distracted from what is most important right now.

This Shabbas Shuva, we read the parsha of Haazinu, which is a very unique parsha in that it is understood to be one long song. That song is both of the past, relaying the dynamic history of Bnei Yisrael, and for the future, full of prediction and foretelling. That duality of past and future is particularly significant for the days of teshuva. When we don’t own our past, we lose hold of our unique identity, we lose hold of the treasures that we have – our Torah, our land, our nationhood. We must never forget our past – because when we even start to ignore our past, our future starts to slip away.

The fact that we read this parsha here in the midst of the days of Awe (although sometimes just after) is significant because of what stands between the dual nature of the song of Haazinu. Between the past and the future, there is the present, the here and now…the today.

One doesn’t necessarily think about Yom Kippur as being about “today.” After all, it’s the day on which we stand before Hashem and ask Him to grant us atonement for that which we have done in the past. And, although we should be doing so just so we have done right in the ways of Hashem, most of us are hoping that our atonement will “pad” our future year to come, that we will be granted bracha and hatzlacha. However, the most important element of Yom Kippur is the Yom, the day, the specific annual time when we have the necessary spiritual alignment. 

So what does that have to do with Haazinu. The word is most often translated as “Listen.” This, however, isn't the usual listen, which generally comes from Shema (to hear). Haazinu is better translated with the archaic sounding “Give Ear.” It has a far greater immediacy to it than lishmoa, to listen. Lishmoa is an internal process, a slower process, a sinking in. Haazinu is a moment to be seized, to be acted upon, to burst forth… like song. At the same time, it is almost deliberate - “Give ear” implies turning one’s focus and paying particular attention. 

Over the next three days we must “Give Ear” to where we are. We must focus in on our actions here, on our teshuva now - and in so doing, we tie together the past and the future. This is the essence of the singularity of the day of Yom Kippur. Yesterday you were, perhaps, besmirched by your actions. Tomorrow you may be bowled over by forces beyond your control. On Yom Kippur, you will be between past and future, and this is something we can remind ourselves through the unique attribute of Haazinu, a song of the past predicting the future. 

May it be Hashem’s will that the very near future redeems us and brings about complete revelation. May your tefilos on Yom Kippur bring you a kapara you can truly feel, and may this Shabbas be a Shabbas of blessing for all of the Shabbasim to come. 

Parshas Nitzavim-Vayelech: Here

Why are we here? This is not the philosophical, existential question…This is the question of galus. Jews have been asking themselves this question in one form or another throughout this exceedingly long galus. Sometimes we ask this question with the intonation of why have we been made to live in a place of suffering and oppression. Sometimes it’s the question of why we haven’t taken the necessary steps of returning to our promised home. Whichever the question, the answer is never simple, and that fact reflects the fact that being part of the Jewish people has never been simple.  

This question, however, is as essential to Jewish identity as our understanding of what it means to be part of Bnei Yisrael. It is alluded to the renaming of Yaakov to Yisrael and the interpretation of that name as “He who wrestles with Gd.” Our destiny was never a straight line.

In this week’s parsha, Parshas Nitzavim-Vayelech, there is the famous declaration of “Lo b’shamayim hee,” the statement that the Torah is not in Heaven, and Bnei Yisrael, who have yet again here accepted the yoke of Torah, cannot make an excuse that the Torah is inaccessible to them. Our forefathers earned the privilege of Torah, earned the essence of the mamleches kohanim (kingdom of priests) that we are to become, and, by this very fact, they, and we, are the keepers of Torah. It is up to us to make Torah alive in this world. Torah is ours to possess here and now.

What is interesting is that the next pasukim, Devarim 30:13-14, continue: “Nor is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and fetch it for us, to tell [it] to us, so that we can fulfill it?’ Rather, [this] thing is very close to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can fulfill it.”

For a nation in the desert about to enter the Promised Land, this statement must have seemed odd. What sea were they being warned of looking across? Perhaps if it had been said “Nor is it across the Midbar, the desert” there would be a clear allusion to Har Sinai. After all, they did just travel for years from that place; they know how grueling that journey can be. If one thinks of it as a reference to the Sea of Reeds, then this also does not really make sense. Bnei Yisrael was forced to cross the Yam Suf because they were trapped by the Mitzrim. One does not need to cross the Yam Suf to get from Israel to Egypt.

“Across the Sea”, which some commentators understand as an allusion to the Atlantic Ocean while others think it is the Mediterranean, could, in its own way, be understood as an important vastness to the greatness of the exile to come.

There are, of course, multiple places in the Torah where Hashem warns the people that they will not hold on to the land, just as they will not hold on to their dedication to Hashem’s ways. It must have been difficult for the people on the precipice of entering Eretz Yisrael to understand - after all, with the Shechina dwelling in the Promised Land among the people, why would they even consider the question of worrying about the law being that far away?

Predictions - which is, of course, the wrong word for the utterances of Hashem – can be comforting. Knowing that the behavior is not unexpected is not an excuse, but it can be a comfort. We all watch others make strong resolutions about what they will or won’t do and then predictably miss their targets. The same is true for Bnei Yisrael.

Our history is recorded in our past as that which will inevitably come to be. Indeed, Hashem even tells Moshe, in this week’s parsha, “For I know what plans they are devising even now, before I bring them into the land that I promised on oath” (Devarim 31:21). Bnei Yisrael’s path to the promised land has never been easy – not in the days of the avos or Moshe and not in the days of the shoftim and naviim, when we struggled against Canaanites and Pilishtim and more, and not in the modern era.

Why are we here? Some people will turn this question into an accusation – why are you there? – for those who still dwell in chutz l’aretz. The answer, however, is throughout the parsha. We have not yet stopped chasing after other deities – not, perhaps, you or you or you – but we as a people have not yet learned to settle ourselves, our whole selves, into our role and our mission. Therefore, we are all in galus, and we are all striving for the great teshuva that will return the Shechina to its dwelling place and our nation to its rightful glory.

NMay it come speedily in our days!

 

 

Parshas Ki Tavo: A Stated Relationship

 Elul… It’s a complicated time of year. Here in the 21^st century, most of us are very busy getting ready or jumping into the start of the school year – whether with our families or as teachers. Cities and communities around the northern hemisphere have a different pace, and in the great duality in which we live, it is not difficult to lose sight of Elul.

 “Ani l’dodi, v dodi li” – I am to my beloved and my beloved is to me. These powerful words of Shlomo Hamelech, one noted anagram of Elul, seem like a sweet, perhaps gentle, reminder of the relationship we are meant to have with Hashem. But, the truth is that the idea of a relationship with Hashem, of being Hashem’s beloved and making certain that Hashem is your beloved, is, dare I say it, challenging. Do God and I even speak the same language? I am needy, and Hashem is…everything! I make requests, and Hashem sends me what is best – even if I can’t understand it. Yet, having a relationship with Hashem is FUNDAMENTAL to being Jewish.

 Interestingly, this idea is reflected in this week’s parsha, Parshas Ki Tavo. The third aliyah of the parsha is just 4 pasukim long:

“(16)This day, the Lord, your God, is commanding you to fulfill these statutes and ordinances, and you will observe and fulfill them with all your heart and with all your soul. (17) You have selected the Lord this day, to be your God, and to walk in His ways, and to observe His statutes, His commandments and His ordinances, and to obey Him. (18) And the Lord has selected you this day to be His treasured people, as He spoke to you, and so that you shall observe all His commandments, (19) and to make you supreme, above all the nations that He made, [so that you will have] praise, a [distinguished] name and glory; and so that you will be a holy people to the Lord, your God, as He spoke.” (Devarim 26:16-19).

 The middle two verses note that “You” have selected Hashem and Hashem has selected “You.” There is a mutual choice, a two-sided desire to look toward the other – put in layman’s terms. That is the essence of a relationship – two sides seeking each other out. In this case, however, that interwoven relationship carries over into pasuk 19, when Hashem elevates the nation so that they can be holy. This shift, this elevation, is necessary in order for them to fulfil their role in the world.

 But let us look more closely at the wording in these verses. In this translation, which is from the Chabad website, verses 17 and 18 use the term “selected,” but the Hebrew is actually far more interesting: Heh’emarta and Heh’emritech. This is not the typical root for the word “Chose” (a synonym of selected), which is bachar. Rather, it is a derivative of the word “Speak” – Amar. It is, according to Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsh, a unique usage of the word in the Hiphil form, and it “can mean nothing else than to cause somebody else to say something.”

 When translated thus, Rav Hirsh understood the pasukim to say: “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 עם סגולה 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 known, a fact engraved in the mind of the world. Henceforth one designates God as ‘the God of the Jews’, and Israel as ‘the People of God’” (Translation from Sefaria).

 This section of Ki Tavo was isolated into its own aliyah, perhaps, because within itself there is such an important message. We must, of course, be constantly aware of our individual relationship with Hashem, but we must also be aware that our collective relationship with Hashem – as a united nation since the verses do have a singular grammatic structure – is not just between us and our God. It’s public. It has influence. It is beyond our selves.

 When we celebrate our relationship with Hashem in Elul, we are moving forward toward the ultimate goal of crowning Hashem King on Rosh Hashana. We are coming to the place where we announce, where we loudly proclaim, Hashem is king, and in so doing we cause ourselves to be proclaimed, again, as His people.

 I wish you all a beautiful Shabbas and a meaningful Elul.

Parshas Shoftim: Don’t Jump to Conclusions

 Parshas Shoftim: Don’t Jump to Conclusions

 Dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Yehudis bas Leah, Yona Yaakova bas Mina, Chana Zelda bat Gittel Yita, Mindel Batsheva bat Nechama Zelda, Chaya Sarah bas Esther Leah, Moshe Aaron ben Necha Itta, Binyamin ben Simcha, and Yaakov ben Esther Malka.

 Information – it is the currency of the age of the internet, and it’s something we all need to be incredibly careful with. It would be fair to say that now, more than ever, we can see how easily disinformation spreads into misinformation. For those unclear in the distinction, disinformation is deliberate, while misinformation unintentionally spreads falsehood or distortions. The corruption of information is happening currently on several global levels, but it is also constantly happening within our everyday societies. But it isn’t a new phenomena.

In this week’s parsha, Moshe warns the people against those who go to worship the deities of the people in the land, who would follow false gods or worship celestial bodies. These people, we learn in Devarim 17:5,are to be stoned to death. Stoning is particularly horrible death.

Of the many sins that are out there, serving avodah zara is in a category of its own. It is a betrayal of Hashem and everything the Jewish community is meant to stand for, and it damages the fabric of the community. However, it is also an act that often lacks concrete proof. Yes, the Torah here talks about offering an animal, but in Devarim yud-bet (12) the Torah records that the people may cook meat away from the Mishkan. How do I keep my Sunday barbeque from being mistaken as an offering? – ha ha. While that may be said with a humorous tone, we know from history, and from current times, how easily facts can be twisted and how readily one might come to do so against an “enemy.” Of this, Jewish law is very aware, and so Devarim 17:4 –  “and this is reported to you, and you hear it, and you investigate it thoroughly; and it is found to be true because the evidence agrees, establishing that this abomination has been committed in Israel;”

We don’t just take a report at face value. We don’t take the first word of someone coming and accusing. We hear it; we listen to the details to understand if there is weight to the words. One could, perhaps, add, that the hearing includes weighing the tone in which the accusation is made, understanding the nuances of neighbors. We receive the report and hear it, and we “investigate it thoroughly.”

The Torah is, as we mentioned, talking about avodah zarah, but the fact is that Devarim 17:4 is a pasuk that can stand alone and tells us how to live in this world. When you hear something about a neighbor, when you suspect something about a situation, or when you are told details about …well, in truth, about just about anything… it is your responsibility to investigate it fully. Don’t believe reports of evil, for reports can be distorted – even witnesses can be distorted, as we understand from Moshe’s exhortation here that there must be at least 2 witnesses for guilt to be established. This ensures some level of veracity and objectivity and that the report does not come from some sort of vendetta or ill will.

We have just entered the month of Elul, and there is less than a month until the great day of annual judgement comes. Now we must turn these ideas upon ourselves. As we approach the Yomim Noaraim, we begin to reflect upon our actions in the year that has passed – and often the things we declare and despair of are things we made great in our own mind. Now, at this auspicious time of the year, we report on ourselves to ourselves, and then we must take the opportunity to hear, to really listen, to our tainas (minor grudges) and transgressions. Now, here in the month of Elul, we must examine ourselves thoroughly, for good or for ill.

True cheshbon hanefesh, a self-accounting, requires this level of inquiry. The process of teshuva is not meant to be one of self-flagellation, of punishing oneself and making one feel like a terrible human being. The process of cheshbon hanefesh is meant to make us see the ways in which we need to improve. Teshuva, repentance, is incomplete unless it includes some level of change, even a small one, that will be a barrier to repeating the same aveira. One cannot complete this process if one is busy raking themselves over the coals, so to speak.

May this little Torah give you a zest for the needed work of Elul, and may you remember that just as one witness is not enough, you are not witness enough to condemn yourself. May we all merit to be successful in our teshuva, one step at a time. 

Good Shabbas