Re'eh

Re’eh

The parsha is called “seeing” which I thought was pretty cool. After the last couple weeks where we’ve been given a recap of what has happened after the Exodus from Egypt, this week we get an extended moral lesson on what is expected from the Jewish people (behavior-wise) as we finally prepare to enter Eretz Yisrael. What is it that we are seeing exactly? I like to think of the eyes as always looking forward and that’s exactly what is happening in this parsha. We’ve gone over the past and now it is time to set the groundwork for what exactly it means to a Jew living in the promised land.

So what do we learn about? We learn about kashrut. Kind of a big deal. Just how we eat which dictates our way of life as a people. We learn which animals are okay to eat and even where we should eat and how much to give as a sacrifice. Any observant Jew (that wasn’t previously observant) today can tell you how life changing keeping kosher is. Being mindful of the food that you put in your body is a 24/7 reminder of your commitment to Judaism. However, that wasn’t even the part of the parsha that I was most intrigued by…

This week we also learn how to behave towards fellow Jews. Moshe tells the people “Do not harden your heart or shut your hand against your brother the destitute. Rather you must open your hand repeatedly.” The context here is in reference to giving charity but there are other ordinances in this week’s parsha with a similar message; remember your fellow Jew and make sure they are all taken care of. Whether a Levite who has no inherited portion or a ger that you do not know. Even if you don’t trust him you must help him out if he is needy. What a principle! What other people have such moral obligations? It is a beautiful idea and would lead to a highly sympathetic and loving community… if it were actually followed.

What I see in the Jewish community is not just “community” but rather “communities” which isn’t always a bad thing. People are capable of having different thoughts about everything. The problem is that there is such mistrust and even hatred between the communities. We exclude each other, even sometimes hate each other so much as to turn our backs on a particular group and/or hope that something bad happens to them to justify our own thoughts. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I have all the answers on how varying groups of people can love and accept each other. I’m not even saying that I don’t hold reservations and prejudices against certain Jews. However, if we all worked to love every Jew for exactly who he is then think of what a community we could be, think of all that we could accomplish together. That was the original idea so maybe we can all work towards it even if it seems unrealistic and difficult. 

Eikev

Hashem would appear to be telling us this week that IF we observe the mitzvoth and act like good Jews THEN he will take care of us. IF we don’t, THEN we will have hard times (to put it lightly). Personally, I don’t subscribe to a systems of rewards and punishments as a motivator to do anything. If you instill in a child that the only reason to do well in school is to get a good grade then they won’t be learning for the sake of learning…they will learn only how to get good grades. Or if you tell them not do something for fear of punishment they will do the minimum in order to avoid punishment…not a good system. So you see how maybe this week’s parsha was a little off putting for me.

However, Rashi helped me out because he had a similar problem. Instead of reading “Eikev” as consequence, one could read it to mean “heel” (as in Yaakov who fell at the heels of Esau). How does reading “heel” help us at all? What a good question. Rashi explains it in a way I understood: basically Hashem wants us to pay attention even to the most minor of mitzvoth (the heels). To pay attention to these seemingly minor mitzvoth will lead to our spiritual fulfillment. Now that is an idea I can get behind.

It’s something that I struggle with…these minor commandments. I can get through life being nice to people, giving to charity, loving my neighbor, blah blah blah. However, for the life of me, I can’t seem to wash my hands before I eat bread every single time. Or really ever say blessings over food when it isn’t hamotzi at a big group meal or Shabbat or something. There are another million little things that I don’t do that I’m actively aware of but just choose not to for reasons of laziness or discomfort or WHATEVER excuse I use. I justify it in my head as being unnecessary. I understand why I need to be nice to my neighbor…it makes sense to me. The world would be a wonderful place if we were all kind and gentle and understanding toward one another. But what difference does it make if I bless the water I’m drinking??? Truthfully, I don’t know. I’ve heard beautiful answers/justifications but they still don’t push me to do it. And maybe this week’s parsha is telling me to. Just because I don’t necessarily understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t important. I don't understand 99.9 percent of anything. Hashem has probably got a better idea than I do. I’ll let you know how my minor observance thing goes. I’ll experiment this week. It’s a process. 

Va’etchanan

As with last week (and the next several weeks worth of parshiyot), we are once again hearing a recounting of the books of BaMidbar and Shemot. However, the book of Devarim feels more like Moshe Rabbenu’s final recounting before he passes away rather than an objective narrative. It’s what I imagine most older people would do/would want to do before they die; leave their version of their life lessons and stories behind to both try and teach the next generation some lessons as well as to make their point of view known one last time.  

Sometimes older people say really ignorant and hurtful things. And they also don’t really understand technology or anything new. This leads to the assumption that the elderly are to be dismissed and not to be paid attention to. It’s an unfortunate trend in our society and one that I think this week’s parsha speaks to. Up to this point we had seen Moshe Rabbenu stumble and fall. We have seen him at his weakest and we see him have to heartbreakingly admit to his followers that after all this time leading them through the desert, he would not be allowed to enter Eretz Yisrael. Yet, his final recounting gets an entire book dedicated to it. The final book of the Chumash, no less. Moshe gets the actual final word according to Hashem. That’s kind of a big deal. Maybe the Torah is trying to tell us something. Just kidding. OBVIOUSLY it is.

Interestingly enough, in this week’s parsha we get the words to the Shema prayer. This is probably heretical to say…but I’m going to say it anyway. When I read through Sefer Devarim I can’t help but imagine Moshe Rabbenu as a grandfather type figure. In his final words he gives Am Yisrael the quintessential Jewish prayer that all Jews must recite twice a day and preferably before they die. He leaves behind the words that have kept and unified the Jewish people for thousands of years! Not all of us can aspire to do the same with our last words!

Maybe the elderly have some quirky things to say…but in the end they have seen and experienced more than anybody else. That counts for something. They have made many more mistakes than we have and they are human just like the rest of us. But it is important to keep in mind that in the final retellings of their lives, they just might have a special message for us; a message that we may never get to hear again so try to take it somewhat seriously. 

Devarim

I'm a little late on this one...it was my last Shabbat on Kibbutz so I got busy:

The first time I read through this week’s parsha I thought to myself, “well…isn’t this familiar?” And that’s because it was. Devarim is essentially a slightly varied retelling of the Exodus story. That’s right. The same exact stories are retold right before (and immediately after) the death of Moshe Rabbenu. It’s easy enough to skim over the stories because we literally just read these events over the last couple of weeks so what’s the point of going over them again. However, there are slight variations in the retelling which give new perspective to the previous parshiot.

In the first parsha of the book of Devarim, we rehear the story of the twelve spies and their negative forecasting of the conquest of Eretz Yisrael. In BaMidbar we learn that the Israelites wish they had been left back in Egypt because clearly Hashem and brought them out here just to die. However, in the newest version of the story we learn that Israelites accuse Hashem of hating them. You read that correctly. The Israelites tell Moshe that Hashem hates them which was definitely not mentioned the first time around yet seems like kind of a big deal. Previously the Israelites just seemed frustrated and whiny (as they do throughout their journey). Now I could really feel the hurt in their plea. To accuse Hashem of hating them is extreme but also desperate.

There have been times in my life when I felt that people have hated me. There have even been times when I’ve told others that I hated THEM. It isn’t a word that is used lightly except maybe by children. To feel that your protector hates you when you are most vulnerable and to feel it strong enough bring the accusation to your mediator is intense.

I have made fun of Am Yisrael in this blog for their complaining ways and for their lack of trust in their proven leader. Yet, maybe I should have been more sympathetic to their plight. To feel hated by the one that is supposed to take care of you when you have no one else to turn to, is frightening. And lonely. And helpless. The path of our people to Eretz Yisrael was not simple. Is still not simple. It can be scary and we will feel alone sometimes. Through it all we have each other to fall back on. We build family and we have the traditions of our people that keep us united. Don’t get me wrong. Hashem has got our backs, too. It just can be a little difficult to accept and/or understand sometimes.