The Two Sounds of the Shofar

The shofar has two basic sounds: t’kia and t’ruah (because of our uncertainty as to the true nature of t’ruah, we add sh’varim). T’kia is the sound of rejoicing [Numbers 10:10], while t’ruah is the sound of trouble [Numbers 10:9].

Life is made up of joy and sorrow. It is significant that the shofar gives voice to both sounds. I believe this expresses one of the great lessons of the Torah: things, in and of themselves are neither good nor bad. The same object can convey joy or sorrow. What determines something’s value is how we use it.

The halacha requires that the blast of a t’kia be at least as long as the blast of the t’ruah. Even more, t’ruah is always sandwiched between t’kiot. This teaches us proper perspective and ultimately constitutes an expression of optimism. The lesson is that when faced with troubles, it is appropriate to reflect on the time of joy which preceded the trouble, as well as to realize that, with God’s help, joyful times will return after the troubles pass.

Exile and Repentence

Maimonides, in the Laws of Repentance [2:4], states that exile is conducive to the repentance process, because exile makes one contrite and humble.

Rabbi Kook offered an alternate explanation of the efficacy of exile in the repentance process. Each person is not only an individual, but part of a collective. Therefore, when one sins (whether between man and fellow man or between man and God), in addition to the impact on the individual, that sin has a negative impact on the collective.  This aspect of sin is virtually impossible to forgive, for the sinner would have to ask forgiveness from each member of the collective. Exile, continues Rabbi Kook, is the situation in which the sinner, as it were, withdraws from society to reflect on and to recognize the harm his sin has caused to the collective. Therefore, exile is, in fact, not only conducive to repentance, but the beginning of the repentance process.

Beyond its philosophical significance, Rabbi Kook’s explanation relates on a concrete level to other comments of Maimonides in the Laws of Repentance.  In chapter three, Maimonides presents a simple definition of righteous and evil people. A righteous person is one whose merits outweigh his sins, an evil person the opposite. This calculation is not based simply on counting the number of mitzvot versus sins, but is based on a weighted formula known only to God. One whose sins outweigh his merits is judged to death. Similarly, nations and the entire world are judged. Following these introductory comments, Maimonides presents what I believe is his single most important comment in the ten chapters of the Laws of Repentance:  One should always see himself as being in balance between merits and sins. Any further sin will tip the scale to his destruction and the destruction of the entire world.  Any additional mitzva will bring salvation to the individual and to the entire world.

The Shofar and the Akeda

Rabbi Abahu said: Why do we blow on a ram's horn? The Holy One, blessed be He, said: Sound before Me a shofar from a ram's horn so that I will remember on your behalf the binding of Isaac the son of Abraham, and I will ascribe it to you as if you had bound yourselves before Me.                                               Talmud, Rosh haShana 16a

        It is obvious that God does not require a reminder, rather Rabbi Abahu teaches that God wishes us to understand the merit of the akeda (binding of Isaac) as we listen to the blast of the shofar on Rosh haShana.

       Yet, no shofar was blown at the akeda, and perhaps the reminder should be in merely looking at a ram’s horn on Rosh haShana.

         Further, the words Rabbi Abahu quotes from God’s mouth: “sound a ram’s horn” appear inexact, since the mitzva of shofar is that it be heard.

      Perhaps Rabbi Abahu teaches that simply looking at a shofar would be insufficient, because it is a passive act, and God expects His people to be active.

        While it is true that the actual mitzva is hearing the shofar, as evidenced by the blessing which our Sages instituted: “... Who has commanded us to hear the sound of the shofar,” necessarily, there is an active component to fulfilling the mitzva, since it is obvious that the shofar must be blown in order to be heard. In essence, one who blows the shofar allows the entire congregation to fulfill its obligation. As such, shofar presents a positive example of the power of the individual to influence and impact the collective.

        Perhaps this point is the conceptual basis for Israel’s request to benefit from the merit of the akeda.

Chronology of Man's Creation

Rosh haShana is the anniversary of the creation of man Zohar 1:37

The Talmud [Sanhedrin 38b] presents an intriguing chronology of Adam’s first twelve hours:

Rav Aḥa, son of Rabbi Ḥanina says: the day (of Adam’s creation) was twelve hours long.

The first hour, his dust was gathered (from all over the earth).

The second hour, he was given gross shape.

The third, his limbs were stretched.

The fourth, a soul was cast into him.

The fifth he stood on his legs.

The sixth, he named the animals.

The seventh he mated with Eve.

The eighth he bore two children (Cain and a twin sister).

The ninth, he was commanded not to eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad.

The tenth he sinned.

The eleventh he was judged.

The twelfth he was sent out (of Eden).

Maharal of Prague offers a fascinating elucidation of the above Aggada, in which he suggests that Rav Aḥa’s comments are a continuation of the previous Talmudic comment, which refers to Adam as the epitome of God’s creation. As such, Rav Aḥa asserts, God devoted the entire sixth day to Adam’s creation, because to have devoted anything less to Adam’s creation, would indicate that there was something incomplete about him.

With this as his basic premise, Rav Aḥa describes Adam’s creation in developmental stages. Obviously, the first stage must be having the necessary raw material, which God gathered during the first hour of the sixth day of creation.

In the second hour, the Creator prepared the raw material for its formation into man. But at this point, Adam is no better than inanimate objects, he is not yet above a rock.

The third hour, Adam’s limbs were stretched, that is, he was given the strength to grow, achieving a living developmental stage the equal of a plant’s.

In the fourth hour, although Adam was animated when given a soul, he was not yet man. At this stage he has merely equaled the animals.

In the fifth hour, Adam asserted his mastery over the animals. Maharal notes that although other animals walk bent over, as a servant in the presence of his king, only man stands upright as a king in the presence of his servants. Thus, in the fifth hour, Rav Acha is stating that he indeed became the king of God’s creation.

In the sixth hour, although Adam achieved true human status by his mastery of the ability, unique to man among the animals, to speak and to think, enabling him to name the animals, he was a lone individual, and therefore incomplete.

In the seventh hour, Adam reached his completion through Eve.

In the eighth hour Adam and Eve bore children, going beyond themselves. They now reached the level of Mankind.

The ninth hour brought God’s first command, which put Adam in his place. While he is master of the earth, he still must accept the yoke of heaven and understand that God is his master.

In the tenth hour, Adam demonstrated that he is truly human by using his free will to disregard God’s command.

The eleventh hour brought Divine judgment, the inevitable result of man’s choosing to sin.

In the twelfth hour, Adam received his punishment and left Eden, having failed to realize his potential. Yet because Adam had begun the process of teshuva (repentance), he still has the possibility of realizing his potential.

Maharal’s analysis of this aggada indicates that sin, Divine judgment, punishment and repentance are all part of man’s development.

Indeed, our Sages taught that teshuva, along with Torah, is one of the things created before the world. God prepared those things necessary for the world’s existence before He actually created the world. Since “There is not a righteous man upon earth, who does good and sins not,” (Ecclesiastes 7:20) without teshuva, the world could not continue to exist.

The Essence of the Days of Awe

This Dvar Torah is taken from a sermon my father delivered in his synagogue.

          The essence of the yamim noraim ("days of awe") is teshuva, repentance. In fact, teshuva is one of the 613 mitzvot. The root word of teshuva is shov, meaning to return. God created man with the potential to achieve perfection. No person enters this world burdened by sin, nor morally handicapped. Any imperfection comes from man himself, when he strays from the path God prescribed for mankind. Man was created good by the Source of Goodness. Teshuva, therefore, is a return to man's ideal roots, a return to the Godly path which is mankind's ideal.

          Rav, one of the great sages of the Talmud, wished for himself that he should "leave as he arrived", that he leave the earthly world as he had entered it, on a pristine spiritual level. Man has within him a Godliness, which endows him with the potential to achieve spiritual greatness. Teshuva is the process of returning to this Godliness.

          Maimonides [Laws of Teshuva 2:2] states that there are two aspects to teshuva: remorse over the past (sins) and acceptance for the future (not to repeat those sins). Both are logical, and perhaps even self-evident components of the process of repentance. One cannot begin to repent without having reached the realization of having erred. But this realization must be translated into practical steps for it to have any meaning. In essence, the first stage, remorse, is the catalyst which brings one to the practical stage of rectifying one's actions.

Rachel's Tears

Thus says God: A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weeping, Rachel weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are not. Thus says God: Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears; for your work shall be rewarded, says God; and they shall come back from the land of the enemy. And there is hope for your future, says God; and your children shall return to their own border.                           Jeremiah 31:14-16

            The question which begs asking is why is it specifically Rachel who cries and not the forefathers nor the other mothers of Israel?

            Rabbi Moshe Avigdor Amiel [1882 – 1946] cites Midrash Eicha Rabba, which teaches that God, as it were, cried when He destroyed the First Temple, and called on the prophet Jeremiah, bidding him to summon Abraham Isaac Jacob and Moses from their graves, since they know how to cry. However, neither the fathers nor the master of all prophets were able to console the Holy One, blessed be He, until Rachel appeared [in the Hebrew, literally "jumped"] before Him, and as the result of her words, the mercy of the Holy One blessed be He was kindled, and He said: "for your sake, Rachel, I shall return Israel to its proper place." The Midrash concludes: this is what is written " Thus says God: A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weeping, Rachel weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are not. Thus says God: Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears; for your work shall be rewarded, says God; and they shall come back from the land of the enemy. And there is hope for your future, says God; and your children shall return to their own border."

            Rabbi Amiel writes that according to this Midrash, in fact the forefathers and Moses did cry over the destruction of the Temple and the suffering of Israel, and therefore, the question must be rephrased: why did God accept the cries of Rachel and not of the forefathers or of Moses?

            The Midrash explains that Abraham's argument before God was based upon the merit of his overcoming his natural feeling of mercy and readiness to offer his beloved son as a sacrifice to God. Isaac, in turn presented his merit of having been a willing participant in being bound on the altar at Mount Moriah, even extending his neck towards his father's knife. Jacob reminded God that he risked his own life to protect his children when he faced his brother Esav and his four hundred men. Finally, Moses pleaded that for forty years he was Israel's faithful shepherd and "ran before them as a horse throughout the wilderness."

            The case Rachel presented was the reminder that when her father gave her sister Leah to Jacob as a wife in her place, "I had mercy on my sister, lest she be disgraced, and instead of being jealous, I treated her with compassion." [see Rashi's comments on Genesis 29:25]

            Based upon the Midrash, Rabbi Amiel notes the distinction between the argument of Rachel and of the fathers and Moses: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Moses taught us how to die for the sanctification of God's name, while Rachel taught us how to live for the sanctification of His name.

            When Lavan switched Leah for Rachel, Rachel did not know that she too would be able to marry Jacob, and she was willing to give up her beloved to prevent her sister's shame. Rachel was willing to sacrifice her emotional life, not for the sake of heaven, but for her sister's sake. This is the reason God's ear was attuned specifically to Rachel's crying.

            While our Midrash clearly deals with the first destruction, its elucidation according to Rabbi Amiel affords a relevant application to the destruction of the Second Temple as well. The merit of Rachel is in the realm of bein adam l'havero, between man and fellow man. Since the Second Temple was destroyed as the result of sins between man and fellow man, as our Sages (Babylonian Talmud Yoma 9b) taught that the destruction resulted from "baseless hatred," Rachel's acts constitute the rectification which will bring the establishment of the Third Temple.

Jerusalem: Invoking Abraham's Merit

            The Torah reading for the second day of Rosh haShana is the akeda, the binding of Isaac.  The reason this portion is read is stated in the liturgy. Musaf (the additional holiday prayer) contains three sections related to the shofar. The blessing which ends the middle section (zichronot, “remembrances”) concludes with the words “and remember the binding of Isaac for his descendants today”. In essence, reading the akeda is a request of God to remember the virtue of Abraham in his readiness to do fulfill God’s request, even at the cost of his son’s life and even though God’s request was incomprehensible to Abraham. (The concept of child sacrifice was totally inconsistent with Abraham’s understanding of God as the God of mercy.) As well, we appeal to God to remember Isaac’s virtue in being ready to be sacrificed to God. (Rabbinic tradition is that Isaac was an adult, thirty seven years old, at the akeda.) 

            By reading the akeda, in effect we are saying to God, “though we ourselves may have deviated from the proper path and not fulfilled Your commandments, nevertheless be kind and generous to us because of the greatness of our ancestors”.

The Midrash explains the name Yerushalayim as being composed of two names: yireh and shalem. At the completion of the akeda, the verse tells us that Abraham called the place “haShem yireh” (“may God see”, a request by Abraham that the merit of the akeda be remembered for his descendants’ benefit). The earlier name of Jerusalem was “Shalem”, as we read when Abraham met Melchizedek, King of Shalem (Genesis 14, 18). Rabbinic tradition is that Shalem is Jerusalem, as we read in Psalms (76, 3). The Midrash tells us that God, as it were, had a quandary. God said “if I call the city Shalem, Abraham, who is a righteous person will be offended, and if I call the city yireh, Melchizedek, a righteous person, will be offended, therefore I shall call the city by both names yireh - Shalem, Yerushalayim.

            This Midrash conveys a deep significance to the name Yerushalayim. Our Sages did not intend that God was shaking his anthropomorphic head, wondering how to avoid offending Melchizedek and Abraham. Rather, the Sages wish to teach us that the name Yerushalayim contains aspects of both Abraham’s name for the city and that of Melchizedek.

            As noted above, yireh is Abraham’s prayer that the merit of the akeda  be remembered for the benefit of his descendants, and this is the reason the akeda is read on Rosh haShana. However, it would be inconceivable chutzpah for us to make this request of God if we ourselves have absolutely no merit.

            Shalem (related to shalom), on the simplest level refers to inter-personal relations, the mitzvot between man and fellow man. In fact, Nachmanides comments on the significance of the fact that the name of the king of Jerusalem includes the word zedek (righteousness), which implies relations between man and fellow man.

            I believe that what the Midrash teaches is that for us to be able to invoke the merit of the akeda, we must at least be striving in the area of interpersonal relations. Then, and only then, can we say to God, “even though we are far from perfect, we are trying, and please remember the merit of our wonderful ancestor, Abraham”.

            My brother added the following comment: "Shalem" also means "complete." Thus, it takes the combination of Avraham and Melchizedek to establish   a complete or perfect home where the synthesis of bein adam l’ḥavero and bein adam  laMakom can flourish.

May God redeem us through the merit of our ancestors.

Pushing versus Throwing

And God uprooted them from their soil in anger and in wrath and in great indignation and cast (vaYashlichem) them into another land as at this day.                     Deuteronomy 29:27

Thus, the gentiles describe the desolation of the Land of Israel and the exile of the People of Israel.

However, two verses later, in the introduction to repentance, we read: “And it will come to pass that when all these things which I have placed before you will have come over you, the blessing and the curse, that you will call them to mind amongst all the nations where God your God has banished (hidiḥacha) you.” [Deuteronomy 30:1]

Malbim, following his approach that there are no true synonyms in Biblical Hebrew, notes three differences between the verbs l'hashlich (to throw) and l'hadiaḥ (to push):

 1) when one throws something, the object becomes far from the thrower, while pushing something requires contact with the object;

2) throwing something is likely to damage it, pushing the object will not damage it;

3) throwing something away demonstrates that the thrower does not care where the object lands, while when pushing something, the pusher knows exactly where the object is.

The gentiles completely misunderstood the nature of the exile. God did not throw the Children of Israel out of their land, rather He pushed them. Therefore, the direct connection between God and His people was never severed. Even when Israel is exiled, God has not abandoned them.

Rashi [30:3], quoting our Sages, makes a similar point. The verse reads "God will turn (v'Shav) your captivity. The Sages note that the verse should have said, "He will bring back (v'Heishiv)." From this our Rabbis learned that the Divine presence is with Israel in all the suffering of their exile, so that when Israel is redeemed it is as if God returns with them.

Based upon the Malbim's explanation, the Sages' comment is a necessary understanding of the verse. The verses teach us that the process of repentance is simple. Since God, as it were, has remained at our backs, all that is necessary is to turn around and face Him.

Bribing Oneself

Cursed is he who takes a bribe to put an innocent man to death.  All the people shall say, Amen.                                   Deuteronomy 27:25

                Thus the Torah presents the eleventh of twelve curses which were to be proclaimed facing Mount Eval.

            This year, motzaei Shabbat Parashat Ki Tavo, Ashkenazim begin reciting seliḥot (penitential prayers) in preparation for the High Holidays. (In the coming ten years, selihot will commence another five times on motzaei Shabbat Parashat Ki Tavo.)

       Malbim presents an explanation of the verse which implies great significance of the timing of the connection between the parasha and selihot:

“He who takes a bribe to put an innocent man to death” includes one who destroys his (own) soul for the sake of bodily pleasure and does not consider the reward of his sin against the loss.

       One who focuses on the immediate, though fleeting benefit of his transgression while ignoring the long term detrimental effects, in essence is bribing himself and the “innocent man” whom he puts to death through this bribe is himself.

Renewing the Covenant

The parasha presents the “Covenant of the Plains of Moav,” which essentially is a renewal of the Covenant of Sinai. This covenant was made on Moses’ last day of life. [Rashi on 29:9]

My father explained the need for renewing the covenant. For the forty years since the exodus (which ended with the Israelites’ entry into the Promised Land, one month and three days after Moses’ death), the Children of Israel had lived a supernatural life, during which God has provided all of their needs directly. As we read in last week’s parasha:

I led you forty years in the wilderness, your clothes did not wear out upon you, and your shoe did not wear out on your foot. You did not eat bread and wine and strong drink you did not drink ...              Deuteronomy 29:4-5

With the impending entry into the Land of Israel, the Israelites will experience a quantum change. Their lives will become “normal.” Like other nations, Israel will have to work hard to insure its national existence. No longer will the Hebrew be able to rely on manna from heaven. If the farmer does not work his field, there will be no food. In myriad ways, the existence of the Israelites will be permanently changed upon entry into the Land.

In renewing the covenant, Moses wishes to stress to his nation that they may not become simply another nation among the nations. Israel must always be aware that its existence must be based upon fusing the spiritual with the material. Whatever the Israelites build in their land, be it the physical infrastructure or developing their society, must be based upon Torah, the source of our spiritual values. Renewing the covenant is a reminder of the Israelite’s dependence upon God and his partnership with God.

The verses quoted from Parshat Ki Tavo conclude thus: “so you shall know that I, the Lord am your God.” The supernatural experience of the forty years in the desert more easily inclined the Israelites to awareness of divine providence on their behalf. In renewing the covenant, Moses challenged the Israelites to maintain that awareness even when the hand of God is less obvious.

It is the continued commitment to the covenant of Sinai which provides the strength, and ultimately the security of the Children of Israel. 

The Individual is the Collective

Today you are all standing before God your Lord – your leaders, your tribal chiefs, your elders, your law enforcers, every Israelite man. You are thus being brought into the covenant  of God your Lord, and (accepting) the oath that He is making with you today.      Deuteronomy 29:9,11

Netziv understands our verses to hint at the judgment of Rosh haShana and notes that in addition to standing before God on "this day", for the purpose of entering into His covenant, Israel stands before God annually on Rosh haShana, to be judged.

The emphasis of "koolchem" ("all of you"), explains Netziv, conveys an important point. Certainly, each person is judged by the Almighty as an individual, and is responsible for his deeds. However, each individual's behavior has a powerful impact upon the collective, as our Sages teach us [Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 40b]:

One should always see himself as being in balance between merits and sins, and the entire world as well as in balance; therefore, if he commits an additional sin, he has tipped the scale for himself and for the entire world and has caused destruction; should he perform an additional mitzva, he has tipped the scale for himself and the entire world for the good and has brought them and himself salvation.

Thus, verse 9 is addressed in the plural form, while verse 11 is entirely in the singular, to indicate that there is both a personal and a collective responsibility for one's actions. In essence, the individual is the collective and the collective is the individual. 

The Nation as a Body

Today you are all standing before God your Lord – your leaders, your tribal chiefs, your elders, your law enforcers, every Israelite man your children, your women, and the proselytes in your camp – even your woodcutters and water drawers.                                                                  Deuteronomy 29:9-10 The more distinguished ones were mentioned first, and after this: “every Israelite man.”                                                 Rashi

            Alshikh apparently differs with Rashi and presents an alternate explanation, writing “Who can know who is considered by God to be great.”  Alshikh posits that it is possible that one who is seen by human eyes as being important is not necessarily seen as such by God. In any event, Alshikh asserts that the central point is that all classes within the People of Israel are equal, simply by virtue of being part of the nation, and this is the meaning of “every Israelite man.” Indeed, Yalkut Shimoni [940] comments “though I have appointed leaders, tribal chiefs and law enforcers, each of you is equal before Me, as the verse states: ‘every Israelite man.’”

            Alshikh expounds on the meaning of “every Israelite man” and writes that all of Israel is a single people, since all their souls spring from a common source, and thus, only the combination of all factions of the nation can be called “the men of Israel.” Alshikh compares the nation to a body, which is composed of different limbs, which collectively define the person. Though not all limbs are of equal importance, each is an integral part of the body. Similarly, with “every Israelite man” though there are individual differences, al are considered as a single person, and collectively they have sanctity.

            As a practical result of Israel being considered a single person, there is a reciprocal responsibility among the individual Israelites.

            The innovation of the Covenant of the Plains of Moab is that each individual is considered as the entire nation, as verse 12 states; “that He may establish you (singular) this day as His nation.” And beyond this God Himself attributes His divinity to the individual Israelite, as the verse continues “that He will be your (singular) God.”

            Alshikh adds a comment relevant to Rosh haShana (since Parashat Nitzavim is always read on the Shabbat which precedes Rosh haShana): “thus our Sages were insistent that the High Holiday prayers must be prayed with love of peace between man and his fellow in order that the prayers be accepted.

The Covenant of Moab and Mutual Responsibility

On his final day of life, Moses gathered the Israelites together to induct them into the Covenant of the Plains of Moab.

Alshikh comments that the distinction between the Covenant at Horeb and that of Moab is that the first was made with the Community of Israel (Klal Yisrael), and therefore is stated in the plural [Exodus 19:5 and throughout the chapter], while the latter covenant is written entirely in the singular.  (Of course, this point is not evident in the English translation.)

Kli Yakar explains that the need for the new covenant at the Plains of Moab was as preparation for the ceremony at Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal, [Deuteronomy 11:22;27:4ff; Joshua 8:33ff]  at which the People of Israel accepted mutual responsibility for each other, as Rashi [30:28] notes. The Israelites abrogated the Covenant of Sinai through the sin of the golden calf, and according to Kli Yakar, this sin resulted from (or at least was increased by) the lack of mutual responsibility.

Without quoting Alshikh, Kli Yakar concludes that the reason our verses employ the singular form is that the Israelites’ mutual responsibility makes them as a single person, and through entering the new covenant, the nation became united as a single entity.

The Primal and Ultimate Shofar

The shofar was first heard at Mount Sinai, with the greatest divine revelation in history and the giving of Torah (Exodus 19:16).

The ultimate blast of the shofar, the “great shofar” will herald the ingathering of the exiles in the Messianic era (Isaiah 27:13).

My father commented that the primal and ultimate shofar blasts are clearly related.

The shofar of Sinai was a call to sanctity. The revelation at Sinai, or more exactly, Israel’s acceptance of Torah at Sinai, uplifted man. The shofar should serve as a call to renewing the commitment accepted at Sinai.  The extent to which the People of Israel hearken to the call of Sinai is the extent to which we can hasten the blast of the great shofar announcing our ultimate freedom.

Perhaps we can add a thought. The revelation at Sinai took place because of the unity of the People of Israel (see Rashi, Exodus 19:2). The ultimate redemption as well will come through the unity of Israel.

Individual Covenant

            Our parasha presents the Covenant of the Plains of Moav which renewed the covenant, prior to the Children of Israel crossing the River Jordan to enter the Holy Land.

            Our Sages [Midrash Tanḥuma, Nitzavim 3] question the necessity of this covenant, in light of the Covenant of Sinai, made less than forty years earlier.

            Alshikh explains that the Covenant of Sinai was made with the klal (the totality of Israel). He notes that the Torah consistently uses the plural in describing the Covenant of Sinai. [Exodus 19:5; 24:8] Hence, Moses addresses the Children of Israel in the plural: "you (plural) stand ... before your (plural) God..." [Deuteronomy 29:9]

            Verse 11 switches to the singular, in order to invoke the covenant upon each individual, which Alshikh suggests is the innovation at the Plains of Moav.

       Alshikh’s approach indicates the appropriate order: one should see him/herself first as part of the klal and then as an individual. Perhaps, more accurately, the lesson is that one can fully develop his/her individuality only as part of the klal.

            The unbounded value of the individual is expressed in verse 12, which is addressed entirely in the singular:

That  He may  raise you up  today for a people to Himself, and that He may be unto you a God …

Mila and Ascending to Heaven

It is not in heaven, saying “who will ascend heavenward for us (mi yaaleh lanu hashamayma) and take it for us, that we may hear it and do it.” 

                                               Deuteronomy 30:12

Ba’al haTurim finds a hint of the mitzva of mila (circumcision) in the fact that the initial letters of the words “mi yaaleh lanu hashamayma“ spell the word mila, and adds the observation that the final letters of the phrase spell the four letter name of God (considered the holiest of His names), commenting that the lesson is that one cannot reach God, unless he has been circumcised.

My father elucidated Ba’al haTurim’s comment: it is through mila that a Jew ascends to heaven, as our Sages taught: Abraham sits at the gates of Gehinom (Hell), and does not allow the circumcised to enter. Further, it is through mila that the Nation of Israel is sanctified and transcends the other nations, for mila is the sign of the special covenant between God and Israel. Thus, the final letters of the words “mi yaaleh lanu hashamayma” spell God’s name, for it is through mila that His name is connected to Israel. Indeed, through mila, a Jew achieves partnership with the Creator.

A further implication of the fact that the initial letters of the phrase spell mila and the final letters God’s name is that when mortal man begins a mitzva, God helps him complete it, as our Sages taught: “one who comes to purify himself will be helped (by God).”

When Does the Land Flow Milk and Honey

Look forth from Your holy habitation, from heaven, and bless Your people Israel and the Land which You have given us, as You swore to our fathers, a land flowing milk and honey.               Deuteronomy 26:15

            The simple meaning of the verse seems to be that the “Land flowing milk and honey” was promised to our forefathers. However, the first time the Land is referred to as “flowing milk and honey” is in God’s promise to the generation of the exodus. [Exodus 3:8]

            Rashi in his commentary on our verse adds a single word: “as You swore to our fathers, and fulfilled, a land flowing milk and honey.” As Siftei Ḥachamin explains, Rashi’s additional word addresses the problem of the fact that the “Land flowing milk and honey” was not promised to our forefathers. Rashi’s insertion separates between “as You swore to our fathers” and “a Land flowing milk and honey.” The meaning of the verse, according to Rashi is, not only did You fulfill the promise to the forefathers, but You went beyond that and fulfilled the additional promise to the generation of the exodus.

            Ibn Ezra explains that the phrase at the end of the verse is actually the Jewish farmer’s prayer that the Land always remain “a Land flowing milk and honey.” Thus, there is no implication in the verse that “a Land flowing milk and honey” was promised to our forefathers.

            Naḥmanides quotes Ibn Ezra’s comment and rejects it as unnecessary. The original understanding of the verse is valid, says Naḥmanides. Although the “Land flowing milk and honey” is not mentioned in the oath to our forefathers, since the Land at the time was indeed “a land flowing milk and honey,” this is subsumed within the promise.

            My father suggested that the differing approaches of Ibn Ezra and Naḥmanides are rooted in alternate understandings of the nature of the “Land flowing milk and honey.” Naḥmanides sees this as an inherent quality of the Land. Ibn Ezra, however, understands that the Land is not naturally “flowing milk and honey,” but became so once the Children of Israel entered it.

            (The approach of Ibn Ezra is followed by Rabbi Shimshon Refael Hirsch in his commentary on Exodus 3:8; Malbim on Exodus 3:17 and Or haHayyim on Leviticus 20:24)

Entering the Land in Joy

And it shall be (v’haya) when you come into the Land which God gives you as an inheritance, and possess it and dwell therein…                                         Deuteronomy 26:1

          Or haḤayyim (Rabbi Ḥayyim ben Attar, 1696 – 1743) notes that the opening word of the Parasha is “v’haya”, which our Sages teach us expresses joy (as opposed to “vayehi”, which expresses woe), and comments that this enlightens us that there is no true joy other than settling in the Land of Israel.

          Naḥmanides (1194 – 1270) takes a different approach and comments that the use of the word v’haya, hints that the main mitzva of coming to the Land is to enter her in joy.

          The two comments are complementary, not mutually exclusive.

          My wife’s uncle, Rabbi Zvi Tabory, explained our Sages’ understanding of the distinct connotations of “v’haya” versus “vayehi” based upon Hebrew grammar. “Vayehi” is the future tense, turned by the letter “vav” into past tense, while “v’haya” is the opposite. One who turns his future into past is truly woeful, while one who can turn the past into future has reason to be joyful.

Bikurim and the Spies

The parasha opens with the mitzva of bringing bikurim (first ripened fruit). The introductory verses [26:1-2] twice refer to "the Land which the Lord your God has given you," while the recitation which accompanies presenting the bikurim to the Kohain [verses 3 – 9] mentions the phrase three times.

            The recitation of bikurim reflects the appreciation of the farmer in Israel to the Creator for the tangible good he has received through the blessing of the yield of his harvest, while the introductory verses convey and stress a general appreciation of the Promised Land, as the Midrash [Sifrei, quoted by Rashi in his commentary on verse 3] states: "you are not ungrateful."

            Rabbi Menaḥem Ziemba (one of the greatest Torah luminaries of pre-Holocaust Poland, who was killed during the Warsaw ghetto uprising) quotes the comment of the Ari, that the mitzva of bikurim constitutes rectification of the sins of Moses' spies. The spies despised the Desired Land (the phrase is taken from the Grace After Meals) and spoke ill of the Land, while the mitzva of bikurim conveys a love of the Land.

            Rabbi Ziemba adds that this connection between bikurim and the sin of the spies is hinted at in the Mishna [Bikurim 3:1]:

How are bikurim separated? The farmer goes to his field and sees figs which are the first to ripen, the first vine to ripen or the first pomegranate to ripen and ties a reed rope around them and declares: "These are bikurim."

The three species mentioned in the Mishna are exactly those which the spies brought back to the Israelite encampment in the desert upon their return from their mission in the Land of Israel. [Numbers 13:23]

Bikurim and Unity

            The ceremony of bringing bikurim (first ripened fruits) to the Temple reflects the unity of the People of Israel.  Or perhaps it is more exact to say that the ceremony was used as a catalyst to reinforce the feeling of unity. The Mishna [Bikurim 3:2-3] describes how the farmers of   a particular region would gather in the central town to bring their bikurim to Jerusalem jointly. As the farmers reached Jerusalem, the capital’s shopkeepers and professionals would go out to greet them.

            It is, of course, of great significance that bikurim were brought to the Temple. As noted in a previous Dvar Torah, bringing bikurim is an expression of the farmer’s awareness of his partnership with God. As Malbim comments, in essence, the farmer who works his own plot of land is God’s sharecropper. Thus, the farmer, recognizing his status as junior partner, delivers the first ripened fruit to the true land owner in His “home”.

            There is, perhaps, another aspect of bringing bikurim to Jerusalem. The farmer takes the beginning of his harvest to the national and spiritual center of the Land of Israel. In so doing, the farmer acknowledges himself as part of the whole. He has toiled throughout the agricultural season not only for his own gain, but on behalf of all his brothers and sisters living in the Holy Land. The lawyers, psychologists and shopkeepers of Jerusalem came out to greet the farmers as they arrived in Jerusalem with their bikurim [Mishna, Bikurim 3:3] as a way of expressing their appreciation of all the hard labor invested by the farmers in order to feed them.

            The national aspect of bringing bikurim is most pronounced in the ceremonial recitation which accompanied bringing bikurim to the altar [Deuteronomy 26:5-10]. The farmer surveys Israel’s history, from the travails of our father Jacob, through the enslavement, oppression and suffering in Egypt, to the exodus and entry into the land flowing milk and honey. The entire recitation employs the plural. Only upon completion of this historical review does the farmer move to the singular “and now, behold I have brought of the first fruit of the Land which you, God have given me ...” [Deuteronomy 26:10]. The verses present the appropriate perspective: the farmer (or an Israelite of any profession) must relate to himself first as part of the community, and only then may he see himself as an individual.

            The verse which follows completion of the recitation confirms this approach “and you shall rejoice with all the good which God, your God has given you and to your house , you and the Levite and the stranger in your midst” (Deuteronomy 26:11). Ideally, the individual rejoices as part of Klal Yisrael, the totality of Israel. 

The Wisdom to Succeed

Safeguard the words of this covenant and keep them, that you will be successful (taskilu) in all you do.       

                                               Deuteronomy 29:8

      Following his approach that there are no true synonyms in the Holy Tongue, Malbim explains the difference between “l’hatzliaḥ” (the more common word for “success”) and “l’haskil,” our verse’s choice of word.

     “L’Hatzliaḥ” implies success based upon good fortune and Divine Providence. “L’haskil,” derived from the root “sechel” (intelligence) means to use one’s abilities to succeed. Malbim comments [I Kings 2:3]: “l’haskil” is dependent upon one’s intelligent choice of the proper means for succeeding. Thus, “l’haskil” signifies a higher level than “l’hatzliaḥ.”

      Based upon Malbim’s elucidation, the verse teaches that the key to Israel’s success “in all you do” is the wisdom to safeguard its covenant with God.

       Our Sages understood the verse to teach that “Whoever occupies himself with the Torah, his possessions shall prosper.” [Babylonian Talmud, Avoda Zara 19b] It is possible to understand the teaching to be that worldly success is the reward for occupying oneself with Torah. However, based upon Malbim’s explanation, our Sages’ teaching can be understood to have an additional dimension: application of the qualities developed through observance of Torah and mitzvot is beneficial in achieving success in worldly matters as well.

Message for the Nations and for Israel

               In preparing Israel for entry into its Land, Moses and the Elders of Israel instructed the people:

And it shall be on the day that you cross over the Jordan into the Land which God your God gives you, you shall set up great stones and plaster them ... And you shall write on the stones all the words of this Torah, to be well understood”

                                                Deuteronomy 27:2,8

            Our Sages [Babylonian Talmud, Sota 32a) tell us that the phrase “to be well understood” means that it was to be written in the seventy languages.

       Rabbi Levi Yitzḥak of Berdichev explained that according to rabbinic tradition, the People of Israel received the Land of Israel by virtue of having accepted Torah. Thus, the Torah was to be written in seventy languages (according to tradition, this encompassed all languages), in order to show all the nations that it was their refusal to accept Torah and Israel’s readiness to receive it that constitutes the Israelite’s right to the Land.

          The contemporary relevance of this comment (written two hundred years ago) is immense. Torah is the sole authority, sanction and permit for the right of the People of Israel to the Land of Israel.

  

Gift of a Permanent Land

You shall then make the following declaration before God your Lord: “My ancestor was a homeless Aramean. He went to Egypt with a small number of men and lived there as an immigrant, but it was there that he became a great, powerful, and populous nation. The Egyptians were cruel to us, making us suffer and imposing harsh slavery on us. We cried out to God, Lord of our ancestors, and God heard our voice, seeing our suffering, our harsh labor, and our distress. God then brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand and an outstretched arm with great visions and with signs and miracles. He brought us to this place, giving us this Land flowing with milk and honey. I am now bringing the first fruit of the land that God has given me.”                                        Deuteronomy 26:5-10

Our Sages taught that bringing bikurim (the first ripened fruit) became obligatory only after Israel entered the Land, conquered it, divided it among the tribes and settled it. [Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 37b]                                 

The late Lubavitcher Rebbi notes that our Sages’ teaching that the mitzva of bikurim commenced only after the Promised Land had been liberated from the Canaanites, apportioned to the tribes and settled by them indicates that the mitzva is not merely an expression of thanksgiving to God for the gift of the Land, but primarily for having settled there as a permanent home. “The fruit expressed gratitude for the ‘Land flowing with milk and honey’ and for the chance of inhabiting it permanently ‘to eat from its fruits and be satiated with its goodness’.”

            Thus the declaration which accompanies placing the bikurim on the altar presents two examples from Israel’s history in which our ancestors lived “in a place of permanent settlement and where – from that seeming security – enemies arose to destroy them and were defeated by God. These two cases point firmly to the gift of a permanent Land (“He brought us into this place”) from which there arises only goodness and sustenance.”

            This approach explains why the declaration of the Israelite farmer does not include reference to Jacob’s salvation from Esav nor to the miracles during Israel’s years of the wandering in the wilderness. Those miracles took place on Jacob and Israel’s journeys, and therefore “have no relation to that special feeling of gratitude that the Israelites expressed on coming to a settlement in a Land that was theirs that overflowed with goodness.”

            While the Rebbi does not mention it, his comments coincide with the comment of the first Lubavitcher Rebbi, that the Holy Land is the only place in the world where a Jew has the right to feel secure.

Entering the Land: Necessary Conditions

And it shall be, when you come into the Land which the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance, and possess it, and dwell therein.     Deuteronomy 26:1

            The previous Parasha, Ki Teitzei, ends with the mitzva to remember and to wipe out Amalek.

      My father noted our Sages' teaching that there were three requirements upon entering the Land of Israel: appointing a king, wiping out Amalek and building the Temple. This explains the connection between the two parashot. Since the mitzva of wiping out Amalek is dependent upon Israel's entering its Land, it is followed immediately by the words "And it will be when you come into the Land". Netziv comments that the mitzva incumbent upon Israel is to destroy the kingdom of Amalek. In essence, Israel's nationhood is the prerequisite for destroying Amalek's nationhood. Quite clearly, Israel's nationhood depends upon entering its Land.

    While entering the Land is a necessary condition for Israel's nationhood, it is not a sufficient condition. The second necessary component of Israel's nationhood is Torah. Sfat Emet, noting that Amalek's unprovoked attack on the Israelites preceded the revelation at Mount Sinai, understands that Amalek's motivation was to prevent Israel from accepting the Torah. Thus, Israel's nationhood and that of Amalek are mutually contradictory, and upon achieving its nationhood, Israel was commanded to eradicate that of Amalek.