"And when you have arrived ["ki-tavo"] to the
Land that the Lord your God has given you…" - so opens one of the last,
and most exciting Portions of the Week. Indeed, this week we stand merely several short portions away from the High Holidays, a very meaningful period in
every Jewish person’s life. And those Holidays culminate with Simchat-Torah
– a uniquely Jewish holiday marking the end of the Portion of the Weekk cycle.
Cheshbon Nefesh - The Calculus of the Mind
During the
High Holidays we are required to conduct “Cheshbon Nefesh” – A Hebrew
term usually translated into reflection, contemplation, or re-thinking of the
things we have done in the year past. But in my mind, the translation – though
not inaccurate – misses the brilliance of the Hebrew term; properly translated
– or, more accurately, transliterated – the English equivalent would be “a
calculus of the sole” – the instruction to conduct a cost-benefit analysis of
sorts, of all things sole-related we have committed last year; and the decree
here is to dedicate no less than ten days (!) to this analysis (if not the
entire month of Elul). Thus, while reflection, contemplation, and re-thinking
are all important, we are actually asked to do much more than that: We are to
conduct the final analysis by which we will be judged (or evaluated) by God on Yom
Kippur. And we must prove, first to ourselves, that in this final analysis the
value of the good, or positive actions we have taken outweighs the value of the
bad actions (or of omitting from taking good actions). So it is with this
somewhat somber mode that we turn to reflect now on the current portion of the
week.
My intention
in discussing this week’s portion is somewhat ambitious and definitely
provocative (and obviously controversial): it is to debunk the sometime
wide-spread notion that we, as Jews, by our very nature constitute some sort of
“Am Sgulah” (the “chosen people”, a unique group, or any other term used for
translation) other than in a very narrow sense (to be explained later).
In other words, the notion that we as Jews we are prima facie better
than other persons who are not Jewish just by virtue of being Jewish is simply
wrong – both from a human-rights perspective but also, and perhaps more
importantly, from the Torah’s perspective. To explain why, let me begin with a
short introduction.
The Last Five Portions - Nearing Conclusion
The last five
portions of the cycle may be seen as somewhat of a summary – a philosophical summary, if you
will – of the relationships between the Children of Israel, the Jewish people,
and their Lord God.
Indeed, this
week’s portion contains some of the most well-known and oft cited ideas
repeated through the entire five books. From extensive Passover Hagadah
sections (See e.g., Deut. 26:5-8 – “My father was a fugitive Aramian, who went
down to Egypt….”), to variations on a theme of the Shema (See, e.g., Deut.
26:16 – “And you shall follow these rules with all your heart and all of your
sole”; 28:1 – “And if you shall obey the Lord your God and follow all his
Mitzvot which I have provided you with today…”), to slightly altered Second and
Fourth Commandments (See Deut. 27:15-16 “Cursed is he who would make any
sculpture or a mask – for they are abhorred by the Lord … Cursed is he who
insults his father and his mother…”). But I would not discuss these
well-known ideas, some of which we have touched upon in the past. Rather, this
week I want to examine only three verses that in and of themselves are so
comprehensive and so complex that they may be said to contain the entire
relationships between the Jews and their Lord God. And this is the language of
these three verses:
Deut.
26:17-18:
"(17) You have affirmed* this day that the Lord is
your God, that you will walk in His ways; that you will observe His laws,
commandments, and rules; and that you will obey Him. (18) And the Lord has
affirmed* this day that you are His treasured people, as He has promised you,
to observe all His commandments. (19) And to put you supreme on all other
people He has created for fame and for glory, and to provide you to be a holy
people to the Lord your God as He has spoken.”
Before we dive
into the complex meaning of these short verses, a word about the
translation: I added an astrix (*) near
the translation [provided here by JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, 2d ed. 1999] of
the word “affirmed,” as the Hebrew original – "Hae-ae-mar-tah" – is
so unprecedented it may well be labeled untranslatable. Indeed, the translator
of this edition was honest enough to drop a footnote admitting that “exact
nuance of Hebrew uncertain,” as no other source for comparison exists (other
than the very next verse) in the entire Bible. I will not enter here into the
great debate about the possible meanings of this unique use of the term “to
say” or “to declare”; suffice it is to mention that the words “you have chosen to
declare” seems to me more appropriate than the “you have affirmed” used here in
translation. I should also note that the same unique term is used here both in
relation to humans and to God – a linguistic clue as to its possible meaning,
but also an indication of the limitations imposed on the writer of the text who
is required to describe God’s actions in human terms.
The Relation between The Jewish People and Their God
Back to the
text. The late Professor Yeshayahu
Leibowitz (1903-1994), one of the greatest Jewish philosophers of all time and
an ardent follower of the Rambam (Maimonides), poses this great question: What is the relation between the first
part of this section – dealing with the People who chose to have the Lord as
their God, and the second part – dealing with the Lord who chose this People to
be His? What is the relation between
the People’s declaration and God’s declaration? Is this a relation of cause and effect (that is, because the
People of Israel have chosen God, He has chosen them back)? Or a reverse cause
and effect (that is, because God has chosen the People of Israel, they have
chosen him back)? Or maybe these are merely parallel, co-incidental
occurrences? (look! The People of Israel have chosen the Lord, and, by mere
chance, He has decided to choose them as well!).
Loyal to his
method, Leibowitz repudiates each of these possibilities. Yet he puzzles over these two short
verses. Why is the text so explicit
about these two parties to the transaction?
How deep is the connection between the People’s choice to have God as
the Lord, and God’s choice to have the Jews as his People?
His answer is
quite surprising. According to
Leibowitz, these two verses represent but one idea. They are actually two sides
of the same coin. And that coin, in turn, represents the fulcrum on which both
Leibowitz and the Rambam build their entire, very impressive philosophical
structure: That the essence of the
Jewish belief in God is the observance and keeping of the Miztvot – the Torah’s
laws and commandments as delivered by God.
This is, of
course, an oversimplification of an otherwise very multi-faceted and complex
idea; but the essence is the same: Without a strict following of the Mitzvot,
there can be no real “belief” in God. This line of thought, obviously, is
extremely controversial, especially in a day and age where keeping the Mitzvot
is far from being at the forefront of the leading Jewish movements.
Still, let us
look at these verses again, this time through the Leibowitzian prism: Part one deals with the People of
Israel. They have chosen to declare
that they accept the Lord as their God.
But how would they accept Him as their Lord? And here is the thrust: by “walk[ing] in His ways”; by “observ[ing]
His laws, commandments and rules,”; and by “obey[ing] Him.”
And God? What
about Him? He, too, has chosen to declare that the Jews are His “treasured
People” [“Am Se’gulah,” a beautiful Hebrew term], but in what way? In that they
“shall observe all His commandments.”
No Inherent Supremacy Over Other Poeple
So it is only
in that way that we, the Jewish People, are unique: In the sense that we
have been chosen to be given the option to observe all the Jewish laws,
and that we have accepted our obligation to do so. In that, and in that alone, we are superior
– in the eyes of God – to all other people.
This is the simpler explanation of the next verse, which reads: “and that He will set you, in fame and
renown and glory, high above all the nation that he has made; and that you
shall be, as He promised, a holy people to the Lord your God.” Here, the “fame and glory” are not of the
“American Idol” kind, but rather of the religious kind: the heavenly fame and glory that comes from
the personal knowledge that you are a part of the People – the “holy people”
– that observes God’s laws.
And herein
lies the two most important lessons of this Week’s Portion: First, if you are a Jewish person who chose
to not observe God’s laws, don’t assume that God will keep His end of
the bargain towards you. Second, and
most importantly, there is nothing inherent in us, the Jewish People, as
being superior to other people. The
only thing in which we may be superior is the option we have received to
obey the only true God’s laws. If we do
that, and only to the extent we do that, then God – and no one else – shall
consider us to be the Chosen (or superior) People. In other words, even to the
extent that we are superior in that narrow sense – we are only superior
vis-à-vis God, not vis-à-vis any other person. That incredibly transcendental
notion receives a more earthly demonstration in the decree to the priests –
those who “serve in the holly” – to change back into plain cloths (from their religious garb) once they return from
the Holy of Holies back to the ‘ordinary’ people, lest they – the
priests themselves – would fall into the mistake that they are superior to the
people in any way other than the opportunity they were given to serve
God.
This
understanding, in my humble mind, is key both in clarifying our
relationship to God but also, and more importantly, in clarifying our
relationship with other people. We are all equal, all created in the image of God.
Shabbat
Shalom,
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