Parshas HaAzinu - It's not about you

In the penultimate portion of the Torah, Moshe breaks out into song. On the command of God Moshe introduces to the Children of Israel a narrative that both summarizes their travels to date and offers dour predictions of future national sins and subsequent travails, as well as eventual redemption, a narrative which he terms a “Shirah” or song (Devarim 31:30, 32:44). 

Nechama Lebowitz observes that, in one of the passages that Moshe sings, he relates God’s thinking as He speculates about destroying the Jewish people entirely in retribution for their sins: “I thought I would make an end of them, I would make their memory cease from among men” (32:26). One thing effectively discourages God from this course of action. Is it the merit of our forefathers? Is it our past virtues or future potential as bearers of His covenant? None of these suffice. Instead, God muses: (I would destroy them) “Were it not that I dreaded the enemy’s provocation, lest their adversaries should misjudge; Lest they should say ‘Our hand is exalted and not the Lord hath performed all this.” (32:27).

In the final analysis, God saves us only because it would be a dishonor to His name not to do so.  As Nechama Lebowitz notes, this was the same rationale that saved the Jewish people from utter destruction after the sin of the golden calf (Shemos 32:12) and the sin of the spies (Bamidbar 14:15-16).

As we have traveled the long path of prayer this High Holy days season, we have cited many reasons why God should look past our grievous errors, forgive us, and grant us long lives. We talked about the righteousness of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; we cited the glory of Jerusalem, now debased; we abjectly confessed our sins and recounted our suffering; and we made vows to act with more awareness of God in the future. All this was good and constructive. Then along comes Parshas HaAzinu, on the Shabbos right after Yom Kippur, to tell us that while our Teshuva (repentance) is indeed worthwhile, we must keep in mind that God preserves us simply because we are his best chance for bringing glory to His name. It is a sobering and humbling message yet it is one that may help us from getting too complacent as we step away from the discipline and devotion of the holy day prayers and practices. 

Parshas Tezaveh - can you get the light?

Last week’s Torah portion was focused on the details of the construction of the Mishkan, the traveling sanctuary. This week’s Torah portion is focused largely on the creation of the clothing for the kohanim, the priests of the Mishkan, and the details of their investiture ceremony.

Yet in the middle of all this, there are three verses at the start of this week’s Torah portion that are concerned with securing olive oil and setting up the eternal light in the sanctuary. Why? With all the major details in front of us, why is our attention diverted to the lighting system?

Nehama Leibowitz, echoing earlier commentators, draws a parallel between the instructions for the creation of the Mishkan and the story of the creation of the world. In both instances, light plays a prominent and early role in the respective  narratives. Nehama Leibowitz notes, as well, that light is often employed as a metaphor for Divine wisdom and instruction: “The Lord is my light and salvation” (Psalms 27:1), “For the commandment is a lamp and the Torah a light. (Proverbs 6:23).  We see then that the description of the eternal light is placed here to deliver an essential message - that we should not get lost in the description of a grand structure and the awe-inspiring nature of its attendants. While these details are important, the ultimate objective is to develop a greater awareness of, respect for, and commitment to God’s glory.

I welcome comments on this Dvar Torah. The best way to reach me is through this email address: donlegofzechut@yahoo.com   

Vayetzei - Difficult tradeoffs

In last week’s Torah portion we read how our patriarch Jacob, urged on by his mother Rebecca, presented himself as his brother to his near-blind father Isaac so that he (Jacob) could receive the blessing Isaac intended for Esau. Commentators through the ages have grappled with this difficult episode, as it appears to present one of our ‘founding fathers’ as a deceitful person taking advantage of his father’s infirmities, rather than dealing directly or honestly, in order to gain an advantage – however justified Jacob might have been in claiming the preferred blessing.

Nechama Leibowitz, in an essay “Your Brother Came with Deceit,”¹ suggests that scripture itself attests that while Jacob’s ends were just, the means he used to achieve them were quite unsavory. In a similar vein Rabbi Francis Nataf, in an essay “The Inevitability of Choice,”² draws on a number of sources and makes the claim that the personalities in Genesis were often faced with difficult choices. He asserts that they understood implicitly that a course of action favored by God could, nonetheless, involve painful trade-offs and difficult consequences. We can see this in the deceptions that afflict Jacob in this week’s Torah portion, such as the switch of Leah for the desired Rachel on the wedding night and his father-in-law’s repeated changes of his wages. We can also see this in the deceptions that befall Jacob later – his two sons’ peace treaty with and then stealthy massacre of the town of Shechem and the eleven brothers’ sale of Joseph and cover-up story that an animal devoured Joseph.

The message of the Torah is clear – if you start your ‘career’ with deception, it will gain a life of its own.

1.     New Studies in Bereshit (Genesis), by Nechama Lebowitz. Published in Israel, 1977 (?); p. 264–270.   

2.     Redeeming Relevance in the Book of Genesis: Explorations in Text and Meaning, by Rabbi Francis Nataf. Published in Jerusalem, 2006; p. 41-56.