Introduction to Ha’a’zee’nu: Rosh HaShana in NYC
Before I come to discuss this week’s Portion, I wanted to say a word about two important dates that bookended this Shabbat: the solemn marking of September 11, and the celebration of Rosh Ha’Shana, the Jewish New Year. Is there a connection between these two events (which, almost invariably, will be held in close proximity for years to come)?
I was pondering this very question eight years ago, when preparing to celebrate the Jewish New Year only days after the occurrence of the most horrific terrorist attack ever to take place on American soil. At the time I was new to the City (and to the country – I come from Israel); and for me, like many others, the World Trade Center represented all that is “America”: the sheer size, the drive ever higher, the financial content, the buzz. And then the two towers were gone. And in them, thousands of innocent people who turned into ashes and dust. That was very hard for me to accept. One of New York’s most distinct symbols, the “south” in my private “New York compass” – you could see the towers from almost anywhere in the City – was no more. Falling under the attack of religious fanatics, the World Trade Center has turned into a mass grave of so many innocent lives, and simply disappeared from New York’s skyline. How can such a symbol be gone in one day? How can so many lives be lost due to a terrorist attack? And now I had to prepare to celebrate Rosh HaShana – How can one do that?
I tried to think of all the Jews who were forced – yes, forced; there is no choice here – to celebrate this holiday after having experienced major atrocities throughout history. I thought of the Jews who lost their loved ones on the eve of Rosh Ha’Shana just because they were Jews; of those who lost all they ever had and loved in the Camps; and of those who fought to finally fulfill the dream of having our own Jewish State, and left behind so many friends on the battlefield. All those people had to celebrate Rosh Ha’Shana – to mark the beginning of the New Year, and to bless: “Let the year end with all its curses, let the year begin with all its blessings.”
And I realized that the duty to celebrate this holiday – every single year at the exact same time – was in and of itself one of its main redeeming virtues. You may recall that last week we discussed the duty to choose life in Judaism. Here is a great example: The mourning period was far from over, yet we were all instructed to move on with our lives and mark the New Year despite what had just happened. We were in essence reminded that we have to appreciate the very fact that we are present – alive enough – to receive the New Year. That alone should be of great relief and a source of happiness. This does not mean that we should forget what took place on September 11, or any other horrific event; but it does mean that we must move on with our lives – to choose life – and not stay in the state of death as long as we see fit.
Ha’Aa’zee’nu – The Duty to Listen
The poem, or song, which opens this week’s Portion with the call – or is it an order? – to “listen” [or “lend ear,” as some translations put it] is justly considered one of the greatest recitations of the relationships between the Chosen People and its God. While the poem itself merits a serious discussion, I will forego one and instead focus on two other issues: the single word that opens the Portion, and the single sentence that ends it. [The second “bookends” of this week.]
The Portion begins with – and thus is named for – the word Ha’Azee-nu (“Listen”). The verse continues to suggest that the heavens and the earth should “lend their ear” to the poem. Are these the actual intended audience? A close reading of the last verse in the previous Portion – Ve’ye’lech (on which we could not speak last week for lack of time) – suggests a different answer:
Deut. 31:30
“And Moses spoke to the entire congregation of Israel, to their ears, the following poem until it has ended.” (my translation - DK)
This verse suggests that, far from the amorphous Heaven and Earth, this poem was meant directly to the “entire congregation of Israel.” [see also God’s order to Moses, at Deut. 31:19, to “teach this poem to the People of Israel.”] But the verse goes beyond merely stating the obvious – the designated addressees of the poem. It actually discuss to other issues which I find very relevant to our lives today: First, it suggests that Moses spoke not merely to the People, but actually to their ears. This is interesting, as in Hebrew, the noun “ear” (“o’zen”) and the command to listen (“Ha’a’zee’nu,” as the name of our Portion this week) come from the same source. That way, when you speak to someone’s “ear,” you expect them to actually “listen” to what you say (as opposed to merely “hear” you). But the verse goes further, and suggests that Moses insisted on saying the poem “until it has ended.” That, again, tells us something about the true meaning of listening: one can never truly listens, if one does not let the other utter what they want “until it has ended.”
These two notions – of listening, and of allowing the other to finish their thought – seems almost archaic in this day and age, when Congress members do not hesitate to yell to the President “You Lie” in the middle of his speech. Yet it is good to realize, as always, how relevant and instructive the teachings of this ancient text could be for today’s world.
You Shall See the Promised Land From Afar…
The last verse of this week’s portion comes straight from the final dialogue between God and his greatest prophet, the only person to ever be called “Man of God” (Deut. 33:1). Moses is about to die, and the Lord himself comes to inform him of that and to bid farewell (and there are those who interpret that God came to prepare Moses for his high-ranking position in the after world). One might expect a nice summary of all of Moses’ “greatest hits,” perhaps including the parting of the sea, overcoming all of Egypt’s wise, leading Israel for forty years in the desert, and many more. Instead, God opts for the opposite: He calls Moses on the one act where he failed – refusing to talk to the rock and hitting it instead in order to bring water out of it – and then announces the punishment:
Deut. 32:43
“As you shall see the land from afar, but there you shall not arrive – to the land I shall give to the Children of Israel.” (my translation)
Many a commentator were baffled at this parting words of God to his devoted slave. Some tried to explain that Moses, with his desert-related acumen and Egypt-related background was not “fit” to lead the nation into the promised land. Others have pointed out that Moses was too old for the job – it was time for a new leader. A better interpretation, in my mind, could be found in the radical option that this was not a punishment at all. Rather, one could view this final dialogue, like many before it, as the mere transfer of information from God to Moses about what is about to happen next. The fact that Moses is not a part of this future occurrence is not a punishment at all; it is, rather, a descriptive reality.
To understand such interpretation, one must realize that for Moses, being as close to God as anyone before or since was his true life’s achievement. Being physically in a different place – in the state of Israel, for example – would not change it. Being mentally in a different state – a leader in a country, rather than in the desert – would not change it either. From a religious perspective – and this is a religious text – Moses has received his “prize” many times over: he lived his a life of devotion and standing before God like no other man. This life was now over, and God felt close enough to Moses to notify him of that personally. But there is no punishment here, nor a need to summarize Moses’ greatest achievement. The mere occurrence of that last discussion with God is the best summary of all, and the best testimony, of such “achievement.”
Shana Tovah, and Shabbat Shalom.
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