Parshat Nitzavim Vayelech 5769 September 12, 2009 Standing on one foot, how would you summarize the teachings of the Torah in order to ensure that they would be imparted to future generations? This task is the metaphorical challenge faced by Moses in this week s Torah portion. As Moses stands on a precipice overlooking the Promised Land, he once again reminds his people, the Jewish people, of their covenant with God, its sanctions against worshiping other gods, and of the curses that will befall them should they forsake the Torah s commandments, laws, and rules. At the advanced age of 120, Moses knows he will soon die, so time is of the essence (and standing on one foot for an extended length of time would be challenging), and his language takes on a special urgency because it must stop where his feet do, on the far side of the river. When this speech ends, so will his life the message must be pared down to essentials, utterly clear, capable of being not only understood but passed on. For at the end of Moses life, and the end of Torah, the focus shifts from observance of the covenant to its transmission. So what does Moses say? In one of my favorite passages in all of the Torah Moses refers to the importance of this transmission of the covenant as he says, in one of his parting messages:
Surely this Instruction which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach. It is not in the heavens, that you should say, Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it? Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it? No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it. This passage contains a number of themes, the most immediately apparent of which is inclusiveness: The Torah, belongs not just to a privileged few, or to a particular class of people, but to all Jews, even those disenfranchised among us who do not feel accepted or connected to our community. As Rabbi Oren Hayon writes in this week s Ten Minutes of Torah, God s covenant belongs not merely to the wise or the influential, but to every member of our community regardless of age, gender, or social station; its expansiveness extends even to include the countless generations yet to come. This instinct toward outreach is a tonic for Jews who have felt excluded or overlooked by their religious community. Like it or not, the Torah is there for all of us, even those who may not even want to be included, or who feel that they do not belong or who do not feel at home in our community. As Rabbi Hayon observes further, this interpretation exposes the gripping paradox of our parashah: we are so moved by the inclusiveness of its prologue that we may overlook the fact that the
more broadly the covenant is applied, the broader the sweep of God s expectation for all Israel. Which brings us to the two additional themes that might be pulled from this passage, the themes of obligation and action: For the Hebrew word contained in the first line of this beautiful passage is actually Ha mitzvah or commandment: Taken in this context, the opening line, Surely this mitzvah that I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach, suggests that not only are we all in this together, but that each of us has a unique and critical role to play in embracing and observing the Torah s commandments: the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it. As Adina Gerver observes in her interpretation of this week s parshat on the AJWS website, this passage invites each of us to attach our own personal meaning to this mitzvah. Her own interpretation is to understand this mitzvah as an amalgam of the interpretations of the medieval commentators Ramban and Sforno. Ramban says that the phrase refers to the entire Torah, and Sforno explains it as teshuvah repentance or return. Writes Gerver, By pairing Torah, which at its essence demands that we pursue justice, and teshuvah, our capacity o right wrongs, we can understand this passage as a mandate to believe that we have an innate capacity o fight the status quo when it is unjust and create change in the world around us. And, by telling us that this mitzvah resides within us in
our mouths and in our hearts this passage acknowledges and strongly rejects the human tendency toward defeatism; to believe that change, hope, and progress are beyond our grasp. We may sometimes wish that we could be passive receptacles for the difficult, transformative mitzvot that help us enact change in the world around us, that someone else could do this hard work for us, but this passage vehemently rejects that notion. Rather, it insists that the capacity to effect change resides within each of us. This reading, positioned as it is during the Days of Awe in the month of Elul reminds us that we cannot fool ourselves into believing that the process of teshuvah and the self reflection that is to come during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur apply only to others. Instead, all of us are capable of and responsible for, as Gandhi said, being part of the change we want to see happen in the world. What guides us in this work of Tikkun Olam? The Torah, of course. And the means to which we understand the work to be done is through Torah study, the final theme I want to address this morning. In Nitzavim s paired parshah, Vayelech, we read: Every seventh year you shall read this Torah aloud in the presence of all Israel. Gather the people men, women, and the strangers in your communities that they may hear and so learn to observe faithfully every word of this Torah. This practice, called hakhel, is an all inclusive, free, public education, granted to women, men and children, both community
members and strangers. The idea is that this reading of the entire Torah takes place during the sabbatical year, when agricultural work is forbidden, and therefore the community has more time to devote to study. Although one year out of every seven really doesn t provide for a very thorough education, these themes of universal access to education, and the need for setting aside time from work in order to study are relevant for today, and remind us that Torah study, and in the broader sense, education and learning are the catalysts which propel us to engage in acts of social justice. So, returning to standing on one foot, those familiar with the Shabbat morning Reform liturgy might turn to the verses we say as the Torah is returned to the Ark as yet another means of providing a Cliff s Notes of sorts to the key themes of this Torah portion. In a moment we will read: When Torah entered the world, freedom entered it. The whole Torah exists only to establish peace. It s highest teaching is love and kindness. What is hateful to you, do not do to any person. That is the whole Torah; all the rest is commentary. Go and learn it. Those who study Torah are the true guardians of civilization. Honoring one another, doing acts of kindness, And making peace: these are our highest duties. But the study of Torah is equal to them all, Because it leads to them all Let us learn in order to teach.
Let us learn in order to do! Kein yehi ratzon, let this be God s will. Lynn Simon September 12, 2009