Parshat Devarim / Shabbat Chazon 5783
By Rabbi Daniel Reich
LA JOLLA, California — In the remaining time leading up to Moshe Rabbeinu’s death, he embarks on a five-week-long monologue addressing the Jewish people. This forms the content of the book of Devarim (Deuteronomy). He prepares the nation for its final ascent to the land of Israel and also readies the people for a future without him as their leader. As the Ramban (1194-1270), Nachmanides, one of the greatest Jewish thinkers and authorities, writes:
“The subject of this book is well known: namely, that it is a review of the Torah. In it, our teacher Moshe, peace be upon him, elaborated on the commandments of the Torah that were necessary for the general population of Israel to know, in anticipation of the generation entering the Land… Before Moshe began the elucidation of the Torah, he rebuked them and reminded them of their sins — how often they defied God in the wilderness, and yet how much the Holy One Blessed is He dealt with them with the attribute of mercy. This contrast presented by Moshe was in order to call their attention to God’s kindness towards them and to prevent them from returning to their previous state of corruption, which could lead to their perishing because of their sins. Additionally, Moshe did this to encourage them by assuring them that God would always treat them with mercy.” (Ramban, Introduction to the Book of Devarim)
However, despite the need for Moshe to convey his final thoughts and directives to the people, he begins his remarks to the nation in a relatively cryptic manner. As the Torah opens in this week’s Parsha:
“These are the words that Moshe spoke to all of Israel, across the Jordan, in the wilderness, in the Plain, opposite the Sea of Reeds, between Paran and Tophel and Laban, and Hazeroth and Di-zahav.” (Deuteronomy 1:1)
Rashi (1040-1105) comments that each of the places Moshe points to in this verse hints at a different mistake the Jewish people made along their way from Egypt to Israel over the last 40 years. In this way, Moshe provides loving, yet firm, words of constructive critique for their previous national mistakes, aiming to prevent them from recurring. Rashi explains:
“Because they are words of rebuke, and because Scripture lists here all the places in which they angered the Omnipresent, it put the words vaguely and mentioned them through hints, out of honor for Israel.” (Rashi, Commentary on Deuteronomy 1:1)
At first glance, one would think that if this is Moshe’s final opportunity to address the nation, he would want to be as explicit as possible. While we understand that the cryptic nature of Moshe’s rebuke aimed to preserve the honor of the nation, it may not be the time to be ambiguous. Moreover, in several other instances in the book of Devarim, Moshe rebukes the nation in a very explicit manner. So why is he choosing to be overly sensitive right now?
It could be that Moshe was trying to convey an underlying message here, serving as a prerequisite to all the other lessons he would teach them throughout his farewell address to the Jewish people. Before delving into the details of Sefer Devarim, Moshe teaches the nation: “It’s not only about what you say, but how you say it.”
Later on, Moshe will provide detailed, specific, and explicit rebukes and warnings to the nation. However, above all, Moshe wants to emphasize the overwhelming importance of treating each other in a sensitive manner. Moshe tells the nation, “Great, you are going into the land of Israel — wonderful! But it’s not only about conquering a land; it’s also about holding onto it firmly through unity. The only way to achieve genuine unity, Achdut, is to be sensitive and caring towards one another. Treat each other with the respect and honor we each deserve.”
Unfortunately, as a nation, we have yet to fully embrace this fundamental teaching from Moshe. We are aware that the tragedy of the Jewish people during the destruction of the 2nd Beis HaMikdash was a result of a lack of genuine care for one another — a lack of sensitivity.
Dr. Mendel Hirsch (1833-1900), son of the renowned Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888, Germany), expands on this theme in his commentary on this week’s Haftorah. He adds that we mourn on Tisha B’Av not simply because the Temple was destroyed, but rather because we did not follow in God’s way and exhibit the same level of sensitivity towards each other. He comments:
“The Jew does not mourn that thousands of years ago the Temple was destroyed, but that it had to be destroyed. We mourn over the causes of its destruction. Thereby, our minds are directed not so much to the past but rather to think about the immediate present time, to put it to the test of considering whether these causes have disappeared, whether obedience to the Torah, and the noble humanity which this Torah endeavors to obtain, have found realization in our Jewish spheres.” (Dr. Mendel Hirsch, 1833-1900).
Of course, Dr. Hirsch’s explanation is reinforced by a chilling passage in the Jerusalem Talmud (Yoma 1:1): “Any generation that does not rebuild Jerusalem, it is as if they destroyed it.”
To rectify this mistake or lack of sensitivity towards one another, we must seriously and genuinely consider how we can foster a deep level of care for our fellow Jews in our hearts. This requires sincere reflection. This is one of the purposes of Tisha B’Av itself. It is not only a day to mourn past destruction or the absence of the Beis HaMikdash, but also a day for honest self-reflection on whether I truly care about and am sensitive to others.
Even in the laws of Tisha B’Av, which prohibit us from learning Torah, we can extract a mandate to reflect on our behavior. The Shulchan Aruch (Rabbi Yosef Karo, 1488-1575) states:
“On Tisha B’Av, it is prohibited to wash and anoint oneself, wear leather shoes, engage in marital relations, or study Torah — be it the Torah, Prophets, Writings, Mishnah, Gemara, Halacha, or Aggadah — as it says in Tehillim, “The just statutes of God gladden the heart.’” (Psalm 19:9) (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chayim 554:1)
This may seem counterintuitive. If part of the importance of studying Torah, as suggested by Maimonides (1138-1204) in his commentary on Mishnayot – Pe’ah 1:1, is to direct a person’s heart to be moral and upright, to refine their character, why would we refrain from learning Torah on Tisha B’Av? Don’t we need to refine ourselves so that the Beis HaMikdash will be rebuilt? Isn’t learning Torah the most direct way to become kinder and more sensitive towards others?
While all of that is true, the simple act of learning Torah alone does not shape a person’s character. It is not merely going through the Torah; it is about allowing the Torah to go through you. It’s about genuinely incorporating the Torah into your life to ensure it sticks and helps you become a more sensitive and caring person. Using the Torah as a guide to personal perfection requires sincerity in the way we approach its study.
On Tisha B’Av, we pause from learning Torah to reflect on the kind of Torah we are pursuing in our lives. Are we learning for intellectual pursuit alone, or are we learning to achieve a sincere connection with God and guidance of divine wisdom — which in turn helps us become better individuals? Tisha B’Av is a day for reassessment, ensuring that we approach Torah study with the right motivations moving forward.
May we find this sensitivity in our hearts, sooner rather than later, to foster genuine Achdut among Klal Yisrael, so that we can one day dance together in Yerushalayim with Mashiach in the courtyard of the everlasting Third Beis HaMikdash!
*
Rabbi Daniel Reich is the rabbi of Congregation Adat Yeshurun of La Jolla.