Sukkot and Our Miraculous Life

There are many Divrei Torah about the correlation of the Sukkah to the Ananei Hakavod, the Clouds of Glory that sheltered Bnei Yisrael as they travelled through the Wilderness. It is a commonly stated midrash that the Ananei Hakavod protected Bnei Yisrael from their enemies, absorbing arrows and obstructing the Israelites from view, and that it helped maintain a temperate climate. According to one Dvar Torah, the clouds also altered the landscape they were traversing to make it easier on them, smoothing the path before them. It was pointed out, how this also changed the point of view of the Children of Israel.

In the journey through the wilderness, one generation gave way to the next and by the end of their 40 years in the desert, there remained only a few extraordinary figures who could truly recall their exodus from Egypt and slavery, the ten plagues, or even standing at Mount Sinai. This generation grew up with water from Miriam's well and manna from heaven. They were literally raised on miracles. However, because they were completely surrounded by the Clouds of Glory, because they couldn't see the rocky terrain or the steep hills and valleys, or feel the burning, they could not see how miraculous their existence was.

The Dvar Torah went elsewhere from here, but the sense of the generation’s entitlement was rather intriguing. A statistic mentioned in the recent 175th anniversary edition of The Economist noted that over that period of time, "the share of people living below the threshold of extreme poverty has fallen from 80% to 8%..." This reminded me of how, when reading out loud to my children, I tried to stress passages such as that in Little House on the Prairie where Laura Ingalls was delighted that she received a spoon for Christmas. If I tried to give any of my children the gift of a spoon, their reaction certainly would not be deep-seated gratitude.

Bnei Yisrael in the wilderness had the stories of the personal experiences of their parents and the tremendous leadership of Moshe, in addition to the miracles with which they lived, and STILL they struggled not to rebel. For us, so very many generations after Mount Sinai, the struggle is even greater. In the wilderness, they were learning this new Torah and it was clear that they were on a journey to somewhere (the Promised Land). Plus they were involved in the constant avodah of the Mishkan (service in the Tabernacle).

Today, in the vast expanse of the diaspora and after years of exile, when there have been constant attacks on our people, both aggressive and passive (the pull of assimilation), it is, perhaps, surprising that we are even still here. Indeed, from a material perspective, we are thriving.

We live in a miraculous age, and yet we are all so easily oblivious to these miracles. This is the holiday of Sukkot. When we take ourselves out of our homes and live in temporary huts, reminding ourselves that God has been the One to provide. This Sukkot, as we adjust out heat lamps (or our air conditioners), set out our fancy china and lush silver, sit down to exquisite meals, or shake our personally owned set of arba minim (owned for more than just the moments of doing the mitzvah), let us all remember that the wealth of the era in which we live is also of Divine making.

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.

Strength and Boldness (Vayeilech)

I am writing this week’s parsha post on an airplane. Among the inflight entertainment options on my screen is a movie titled “Birthmarked,” described as the story of two scientists who “attempt to prove the power of nurture over nature by raising three children contrary to their genetic predispositions.” I did not watch the movie, but the description caught my attention and made me chuckle. As a parent, I know how hard it is to try to bend the nature of a child. Then I read this week’s parsha, Parsha Vayeilech, and I was struck by how much insight one can gain when reading the Torah with child psychology in mind.

As we so frequently remind ourselves at this time of year, God is the ultimate Father, Avinu. Throughout the Torah (but particularly in the Book of Devarim), we are reminded that God knows us, His children, well and that He knows that we will go wrong and worship false gods. “The people will arise and stray after the gods of the others of the land that they are going there among them, and they will forsake Me and break My covenant that I made with them” (Deuteronomy 31:16). God is here informing Moshe and Yehoshua that this is the nature of the Children of Israel.

Perhaps you, like me, find it hard to understand the idea of worshipping idols. We so often think of idol worship as people bowing down or making sacrifices to statues or praying to multiple deities. We can’t fully understand it because the desire for idol worship has been removed from our people for many generations (since the Anshei Knesset Hagedola). But the desire for “false gods,” for following the ways of the others among whom we live, is still in our nature. The hypothesis is that the urge for avodah zara is deeply connected to self-esteem and the desire for a tangible object to blame for one's failures. Perhaps in the most recent era people seek to fulfill that need through celebrities and the desire for one's "five minutes in the spotlight." But really, we need to rely only on Hashem and trust that the path He set out for us is the way to go.  

Parshat Vayeilech features the transfer of leadership from Moshe to Yehoshua. In announcing this transfer, the use of the phrase “Be courageous and be bold!” occurs three times, which makes it significant and interesting. Moshe says it to the people and then he says it to Yehoshua directly, neither of which would have been particularly interesting if not for the fact that Hashem then used this language with Yehoshua, which adds a whole new level of significance.

Moshe’s words were meant to be encouragement, both to the Children of Israel and Yehoshua. Hashem saying it to Yehoshua is both a comfort and a forewarning. In telling Yehoshua to be strong and courageous, Hashem is informing him that his role to come will not be an easy one. This generation, raised in the wilderness, had all of Hashem’s nurturing. But when sent out on their own, human nature would quickly reassert itself and they would seek more tangible deities. This would not be Yehoshua’s fault; it would be the influence of nature over nurture. 

The challenge of the desire to follow after false gods, whatever they may be, remains a tremendous struggle. May we all have strength and boldness to overcome the natural inclination (perhaps to take the path of least resistance) and to nurture our connection with Hashem.

Choices for the Relationship (Nitzavim)

Most Torah discussions about the Jewish people accepting the Torah refer to the famous utterance of “na’aseh v’nishmah, we will do and we will listen” (Exodus 24:7), said by the Jewish people in the shadows of Mount Sinai. This was the great dedication of the Jewish people to serve Hashem. Yet it is here, in parshat Nitzavim, when the Jewish people are finally (38 years later) about to be permitted into the Promised Land, that Moshe states that the Jewish people are entering into the covenant of the Torah, as it says “You stand this day, all of you, before Hashem, your God...For your passage into the covenant of Hashem, your God...” (29:9, 11).

It is fascinating to look at the difference of who we were at Mount Sinai and who we were on the border of the Promised Land. When the Jewish people approached Mount Sinai, they were pumped with adrenaline. They had experienced miracles. They had faced decimation and survived. They were very much aware that they were on the verge of something awesome. Hashem looked at this beautiful nation and (symbolically speaking) got down on one knee and proposed a union. One can imagine the joy and the excitement. One can hear the echo of the Jewish people, full of emotion, shouting “We will do and we will hear!” But the energy of first love, the adrenaline of the moment, was unsustainable. A fact proven by the sin of the Golden Calf.

That the Jewish people betrayed their heartfelt promise does not mean that they hadn’t been earnest in their desire to dedicate themselves to Hashem. But it did demonstrate that raw emotion would not be enough to carry the Jewish people through the cycle of success and failure that would move the nation toward a fulfilled destiny.

In the Book of Devarim, Moshe lays out, rather bluntly, what God expects of the Jewish people. He also offers them an honest preview of what the future holds according to how they fulfill their side of the relationship. Here now, 38 years after Mount Sinai, the Jewish people are being offered the opportunity to enter the covenant with wisdom and understanding as to its significance, in addition to the passion of their inspiration.

One of the most beautiful parts of this week’s parsha is the language of encouragement. By telling Klal Yisrael that they will mess up, Moshe is telling them that it will be okay, that it is an expected part of the process. And Moshe also lets them know that after mess-ups and consequences, there is forgiveness and reunion - “You will return to Hashem, your God, and obey Him exactly as I am commanding you today...” (30:1).

The parsha concludes with a declaration of choice. Moshe says to the people, “I invoke as witness this day heaven and earth, life and death, and I have placed before you blessing and curse; Choose life in order that you will live, you and your descendants” (30:19).

This is where the Jewish nation becomes the “chosen people.” When we said na’aseh v’nishmah, that was reaction. But here, when all the facts and possibilities, the positives and negatives, have been laid out, that is when our ancestors chose life for themselves and for us.

“The chosen people” is a term for the Jewish people that has fallen out of common usage. In western society today it is a term that is almost an embarrassment, since it can be so easily twisted and misunderstood. It can be heard as language that smacks of inequality and judgement. (Indeed, many people do use the concept as a reason to hold the Jewish people above others - an attitude that breeds arrogance.) Rather, we are the people who made the active choice for ourselves and our children ever after to be in a relationship with the Divine through the Torah, and, in so doing, were chosen to find the inspiration of the emotions that fueled our ancestors to declare na’aseh v’nishmah.

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.

Just Wait Until Your Father... (Eikev)

In classic, stereotypical parenting, the type that makes one think of Leave It To Beaver, a mother wishing to draw a line of discipline for her child would often say, “Just wait until your father gets home!” This threat left the role of disciplinarian to the father and thus was attached to dad the seemingly cliche line of “This is for your own good” (or, similarly, “This hurts me more than it hurts you”).

Until recently in history, this was considered normal parenting. In recent generations, however, we parent more gently. The father’s role is less severe and punishment is often considered detrimental. (Yes, this is a stark generalization.) Perhaps this "more gentle” idea of parenting is one of the reasons that those who disdain religion accuse God of being a hard and cruel deity, but Jews refer to God as Avinu, our father, because we see beyond the black-and-whiteness of the text and the rules and the punishments declared. We see fatherly love.

How does this connect to the parsha? Because in this week’s parsha, Moshe says to Bnei Yisrael: “And you shall consider in your heart that just as man chastises his son, so the Lord your God chastises you” (Devarim 8:5).

The Torah commentator Sforno (Rabbi Obadiah Sforno - Italy - 1475-1550) explains that “along with the commandments He has given you, He gives you a superior moral/ethical challenge to help you achieve perfection as seen from His perspective.” The disciplines - the challenges - that God gives to you are opportunities to rise above the situation.

There is a platitude that is often quote in response to challenging times and difficult situations: “God only gives you what you can handle.” That’s nice, and that’s true, but the difficult situation or emotional pain is still very real. So rather than speak about the many wonderful philosophies that could be derived from this verse, let’s look at it a bit differently.

It may seem odd to say, but in these verses it feels like a real parenting dynamic in which Moshe is the mother. Moshe’s monologue throughout the parsha shifts between warnings, reminders of the good God has done for Bnei Yisrael, recollections of the errors they have committed, and subtle appeals for them not to go astray. Taken all-together, his words reflect his love for this people he has led for 40 years. It’s a tone many of us take with our children.

Moshe is the mother figure because God is a father figure. I understand that too. My father was the final disciplinarian. In our household, he was the parent that I was afraid of crossing... He was also the parent I was most afraid of disappointing.

It is easy to read a verse like this and nod. But Moshe knew how easy it is to let this fundamental knowledge of the relationship of God and Bnei Yisrael become passé, just as a mother will push her child to go give daddy a kiss. It is easy to think that the disciplinarian is out to get you, but a fundamental belief in Jewish life is that everything God does serves a positive purpose, and we should love Him for it.

Parsha Bibliography

Hirsch, Rabbi Samsom Raphael. The Pentateuch: Volume V Deuteronomy. Translated by Isaac Levy, Judaica Press, LTD, 1999.

Leibowitz, Nehama. Studies in Devarim. Translated by Aryeh Newman, The World Zionist Organization, 1980.

Soleveitchik, Rabbi Joseph B. Chumash Mesoras Harav: Sefer Devarim. Compiled and edited by Dr. Arnold Lustiger. OUPress, 2018.

Furer, Dov. Torah Treasures: Selected Thoughts and Insights from the Classic Commentaries on the Parshah of the Week. Translated by Avraham Yaakov Finkel. C.I.S. Publishers and Distributors, 1993.

Abarbanel, Isaac. Abarbanel: Selected Commentaries on the Torah, Volume I Bereishis/Genesis. Translated and Annotated by Rabbi Israel Lazar, Self Published with CreateSpace, 2015.

Caplan, Rabbi Yitzchok. Rav Wolbe on Chumach - Volume 2. Mesorah Publications, LTD, 2016.

Subar, Rabbi Reuven and Rabbi Mendel Weinbach. The Essential Malbim. Mesorah Publications, LTD, 2009.

Sforno, Rabbi Ovadia. Sforno: Commentary on the Torah, Volume I Bereishis/Shemos. Translated by Rabbi Raphael Pelcovitz, Artscroll-Mesorah Publications, LTD, 1987.

Zornberg, Avivah Gottleib. Genesis: The Beginning of Desire. The Jewish Publication Society, 1995.

Zakan, Miriam Stark. The Weekly Midrash, Tzena Ur'enah. Mesorah Publications, LTD, 1994.