Parashat Re'eh, Deut. 11:26-16:17

This week’s portion – Re’eh (literally, “watch!” as in “Watch, today I hand down to you both a blessing and a course”) – is, in a certain sense, a direct continuation of last week’s portion. These notes, therefore, may also follow the same pattern. As you may recall, last week we introduced the notion of the “love of God” (not to be confused with the notion of “for the love of God!”).  We examined two opposing views attempting to interpret that notion: the first, according to Halacha (Leibovitz, Rambam), calls for a more “objective” notion of love, which translates into careful and full following of all the rules, laws, and Mitzvot given by God. The second interpretation claims that the notion of “love” is much more personal, more subjective, and may translated into each person’s internal notion of the (the deepest possible) connection with his or her own God.

Today I want to continue this discussion, but focus on the objective viewpoint. I would like to examine – through the text – the actual ways in which we are to love our God. In particular, I want to demonstrate how the love of God is a complete experience of all five senses. Indeed, a true person of faith sees, hears, taste, smells, and touches – all while exercising her faith. In addition, the text may lead us to believe that there are other, hidden dimensions to the exercise of loving God. In short, the love of God – according to the biblical text – is a multi-sensory, multi-level process. Today I will simply point to the text of this week’s portion demonstrating that assertion. 

The Love of God – An Experience for All Five Senses

This week’s portion begins with – and therefore is named after – the order to see (Re’eh). God is ordering us to “see” the fact that he’s handing us both a blessing and a course; the blessing, of course, for following him (and as I have explained in the past, the blessing is in the act of following him; there is no need for additional rewards – Emu’na Le’shma (a belief for its own sake)). The course, is, naturally, for the opposite case (And again – no need for classic “punishment” here; suffice it is that a person goes through his entire life in the empty and shallow way of – according to this line of thought – not having a God in their lives; that, alone, constitutes enough of a punishment).

After “to see” comes “to hear” (or “to listen” – in Hebrew, both collapse into one word in that context.) Last week, we had the classic “to hear” – Sh’ma Israel; Hear, Oh Israel. But this week, too, the verb “to hear” appears immediately after the order “to see”: “The blessing [is that] you will listen to the orders of God (Mitvoth) that I order upon you today; and the course – if you shall not listen [to the same]. (Deut. 11:26-27). The command “to hear” appears several more times this week, and in some cases in key settings (see, e.g., “Be guarded and hear everything that I order upon you today.” Deut. 12:28)

Next comes “to taste.” And this week’s portion if full of tasting requirements – both in the positive (“you may eat meat in any of your settlements,” Deut. 12:15), and in the negative (of which this week’s provides us with the most famous example: “You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk.” Deut. 14:21). Plenty of other examples exist in this week’s portion to demonstrate how much “tasting” is involved in the loving of God. 

The next sense – “to smell” – is the single exception to the five senses in that it does not directly appear in the text. Still, a quick look into the text may reveal that “smell” is all around us.  Take, for example, Deut. 12:27: “You shall offer your burnt offerings, both the flesh and the blood, on the altar of the Lord your God; and of your other sacrifices, the blood shall be poured out on the altar of the Lord your God, and you shall eat the flesh.” Can’t you just “smell” the scene? Again, my point here is not to show that we are ordered to smell; my point is to show that the experience of a faithful person – he who truly loves God – are a multi-sense experience of belief.

Last, but not least, comes the sense of touch. Naturally, we cannot “touch” God – but we can neither see, hear, taste, or smell Him either (recall that this is not my point here). But our experience of faith – our experience of loving God – is full of “touch.”  Thus, we are ordered to “tear down” all non-Jewish pillars (Deut. 12:3); to “burn down” their gods (Id.); to “offer blessing” (blood and flesh and all) (Deut. 12:14-15); and many, many other examples where we are ordered to do things “by hand.”

Love of God – Beyond the Five Senses

But the five senses, it seems, are only the starting point for the experience.  This week’s potion text is full of other orders that make the process of loving God – the process of faith – even more complete than that. Thus, for example, we are ordered:

“To rejoice before the Lord.” (Deut. 12:12);

“To do what is good and right in the eyes of the Lord.” (Deut. 12:28)

“[As to your indigent neighbor] – you shall open your hand to him, and you shall provide him enough for his needs.” (Deut. 16:7-8).

These are all but examples – samples, really – of what is required from the person of faith. He, or she, are fortunate enough to have God in their lives; but they are also bound by a 360-degree experience, encompassing all their senses – and more – in every step on their daily lives. As the Sh’ma reads  - this experience is with us when we are at home or outside, when we lie down in our bed or walk about our ways in the world.

The best summary, as usual, was given by the portion itself. When the text discusses the law of a “false prophet” – he who would try to persuade you that you should follow another God, the text concludes:

“Do not heed to the words of that prophet or that dream diviner, for the Lord your God is testing your to see whether you really love the Lord your God with all your heart and all of your soul; and you shall follow you God, and you shall see Him, and you keep his Orders (Mithvoth), and you shall listen to His voice, and you shall worship Him, and you shall stick to Him.”

(Deut. 13:4-5).

Can you think of a more comprehensive manner to lead one's life?

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron

 

   

Ekev - The Sh'ma (Deut. 7:12 - 11:25)

This week’s portion, “Ekev” – literally, “after which,” as in God telling the People of Israel: “In the days after which you will obey my laws …” – is a direct continuation of last week’s portion, which introduced us to the first section of the “Sh’ma” (not “Shema,” as all English translations insist upon; there is no “e” there). Today’s portion introduces us to the second part of the Sh’ma, and allows us to focus entirely on this magnificent prayer. And while I’d be happy to receive credit for the ideas listed below, they are not mine: I am merely delivering the ideas of Prof. Yeshayahu Leibovitz (see his On the Reading of Sh’ma, in Judaism, Human Values, and the Jewish State 39 (Harvard, 1992); this is a wonderful article, which begins with the ever-so Leibovitzian statement: “I know of no ways to faith other than faith itself”). Leibovitz, in turn, claims also to be adding nothing new – he relies on the Rambam (Maimonides). And so on and so forth. Obviously, in the short space I have here I will provide only a glimpse, a taste of the many things that can be said on this very unique text. In fact, today I will only dwell on one word, and one word only, which appears at the beginning of the text. But let us begin with what is really important – the text of the Sh’ma.

The Sh’ma is Judaism’s most important text. It is also its most sacred. In fact, it is nothing short of Judaism’s defining text. The Mishna opens with it. (“From what time may one recites Sh’ma?” (Tractat Be’rachot A (a), Z’raim)) Throughout history, many a Jew had recited it – of their free will – as their last words, under the most horrific of circumstances. Every practicing Jew still states the text twice a day, every single day of their adult life.

And yet, to many – most? – Jews worldwide, this fundamental text is not well known at all. This incredible document of Jewish heritage is no longer a part of every Jew’s vocabulary. Let us, then, introduce it back to the readers; and then comment on only one word in it.

The Text of Sh’ma Israel

Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. (Sh’ma Israel, Adonai Elo’hei’cha, Adonai Echad).
And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be upon your heart. You shall teach them thoroughly to your children, and you shall speak of them when you sit in your house and when you walk on the road, when you lie down and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign upon your hand, and they shall be for a reminder between your eyes. And you shall write them upon the doorposts of your house and upon your gates.

And if you shall hear and adhere to My commandments which I enjoin upon you this day, to love the Lord your God and to serve Him with all your heart and with all your soul, I will give rain for your land at the proper time, the early rain and the late rain, and you will gather in your grain, your wine and your oil. And I will give grass in your fields for your cattle, and you will eat and be sated. Take care lest your heart be lured away, and you turn astray and worship alien gods and bow down to them. For then the Lord's wrath will flare up against you, and He will close the heavens so that there will be no rain and the earth will not yield its produce, and you will swiftly perish from the good land which the Lord gives you. Therefore, place these words of Mine upon your heart and upon your soul, and bind them for a sign on your hand, and they shall be for a reminder between your eyes. You shall teach them to your children, to speak of them when you sit in your house and when you walk on the road, when you lie down and when you rise. And you shall inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates - so that your days and the days of your children may be prolonged on the land that the Lord swore to your fathers to give to them for as long as the heavens are above the earth.
The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the children of Israel and tell them to make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout their generations, and to attach a thread of blue on the fringe of each corner. They shall be to you as tzizit, and you shall look upon them and remember all the commandments of the Lord and fulfill them, and you will not follow after your heart and after your eyes by which you go astray - so that you may remember and fulfill all My commandments and be holy to your God. I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God; I, the Lord, am your God. True. 


The “Love” of Sh’ma

How does the Sh'ma open? After the ceremonial introductory sentence – constituting the notion of one God, which is our God, and calling upon Him to listen to us (and not the other way around; not a trivial idea, which sparked many a discussion) – the Sh’ma begins with an order, a decree; and that decree is to love. And the decree is not to love your neighbor (as yourself), or your spouse, or even your children. No, the most basic decree of the Jewish Faith is to love God. In fact, to be more accurate, this is no ordinary love one is ordered to feel; the love at issue here is nothing short of the ultimate love: “with all your heart, and all your sole, and all your might.” Indeed, as Rabbi Akiva is famous for saying: “With all thy sole, meaning even when they have taken away your sole you would still love Him.” Unfortunately, this wonderful statement has turned into horrific fact too many times throughout our history, beginning with Rabbi Akiva himself (who was executed by the Romans with iron flesh-combs).

Of the many enormous questions raised by this particular word-choice – to love your God – I will (very superficially) look at two: Why was love chosen over all other possible relations with God; and what does love mean in this particular context.




Why “Love”?  

One would expect – after reading almost the entire Five Books of Moses – to find a completely different title to describe the desired relationships between every Jewish person and their God: “fear” (“And you shall fear the Lord your God”), “obey” (“And you shall obey the Lord your God”), “abide by,” “acknowledge the greatness of,” or, perhaps most obviously – “believe in” (“And you shall believe in the Lord your God.”). Of all the stories we have read, the demand from the Israelite was never to love their God but to follow Him (while abandoning all other Gods, to be sure). So why the need for “love” all of a sudden? Where did this requirement come from?

The answer is at once surprising and very obvious: When the Torah text came to describe the desired relations between a Jewish person and their God, it was obviously bound by the limits of words – there is no way to describe such relations without words. And within those boundaries – within words – what is the strongest feeling a person could ever feel? What is the word that would signify, more than any other, the desired relationship between a person and their God? The answer is clear: It must be love. While this is no “ordinary” love (more on that in a minute), this is the strongest, most experimental, most tantalizing feeling every person is capable of experiencing. And that’s the type of feelings they must – ordered to! – feel in relation to their God. “Take your biggest emotional commitment” the Torah tells us “and apply it to your relationship with God.” That is why love – and not any other feeling or condition – was selected to describe the desired relationship with God.


What does it mean ”to love” your God?  

We all love. Most people love themselves (and politicians, some believe, love themselves more than any other person). Almost everyone love their children, if they are blessed with having any; most people love (at least some portion) of their families. But we also love money, and whatever it is it may buy for us – clothes, expensive gadgets, “shopping sprees,” and the like. We also love vacations; we love “doing nothing”; we even love to fall in love with other people… In short, we love many things and, more importantly, we love in many ways, shapes, and forms. Which of these feelings, if any, best describes the “love” we are ordered to feel towards God? Should we love Him the way we love ourselves? The way we love our new home? The way we love being on vacation?

Leibovitz – following the Rambam – has a very clear answer here: No. The word “love,” recall, is only used here as a gap filler – “The Torah speaks in the language of humans”; the word is merely used here as there was no other word that could better describe the elated condition one should experience in their relationship with God. But its concrete meaning here, argues Leibovitz, is actually explained to us in great detail: “The unintelligible verse “and you shall love the Lord your God” is elucidated through its sequel: “And these words which I command you this day should be in your heart.” The acceptance of the yoke of Torah and Mitzvoth is [in and of itself] the love of God, and it is [also] this that constitutes faith in God.” (id., at 44) So, according to Leibovitz, the act of believing in God, wholeheartedly, the condition of having faith in Him, is – ipso facto – the condition of “loving” Him.

But here is also where Leibovitz and I part ways: While his interpretation is completely plausible – and probably more “correct” in terms of Halachic thinking – I would like to adopt a more romantic, independent, and somewhat anarchistic notion of the content of “love” for God as it appears in the Sh’ma. In my mind, while we all love many things – as we have noted before – we also all love in different ways from each other. For example, while every reader of this post has uttered (and hopefully heard) the words “I love you” to someone else, each person felt, and meant, different things by saying these exact same words. 

Thus, I completely agree with Leibovitz that the Torah chose the term “love,” indeed, to denote the highest level of feelings each of us may reach – and that is the level, and power, of feelings we should be aiming at God. But as to the content of those feelings – in my mind – the Torah gave us complete freedom; everyone may love God in the way they see fit, as long as they truly love (nothing short of that) their God. And just like you know that you love someone else – you feel it, it is burning within you – so you will know you truly love your God. This is an internal process; you don’t need to demonstrate or report it in any way to anyone else; this is a dialogue carried out only between you and your God. True, the performing of the Mitzvoth would be a great way to show that love and demonstrate it to the outside world. In other words, the performing of the Mitzvot would be a great way to notify everyone that you do love your God; but just like with marriage – which is an announcement to the whole world on love – it is very desirable notion, but not a necessary precondition for the feeling of love. Thus, to quote the Beatles, all you need is love; choose any way to experience it, and you will be performing the Sh’ma as directed.


Shabbat Shalom,

Doron

Parashat Va'Etchanen, Deut. 3:237:11

This week’s portion – Va’etcha’nen (literally “and I shall beg,” as in Moshe’s plea to God to spare his life and allow him to enter the Promised Land (a plea not well received)) – is one of the most famous, audacious portions in the entire cycle. Indeed, after several weeks of “digging deep” into the text in the hope of finding some nuggets, this week’s portion contains two of the founding texts of all of Judaism: The Ten Commandment (the second, expanded version), and the Shema (part one). To top that, the portion also contains important sections of the Hagada (read in Passover), and the wonderful argument between Moshe and God relating to Moshe’s punishment.

What, then, should I pick? While leaving the Shema for next week (when part two is in store), I will comment today on the Ten Commandments, but not in the traditional sense. That traditional sense, naturally, focuses on the several slight differences between Version 1 of the Commandments  (Exodus 20:1), and Version 2  (here, Deut. 5:6). But today I would like to examine a different issue  - an issue that may shed light more generally on the biblical text as a whole, as well as – to a lesser extent – on the philosophy of this blog.

I. On the Second Coming of the Second Commandment

As most – if not all – readers of this blog know, over the years the biblical text was reviewed by thousands of Jewish sages. These wise-men commentaries – such as Rashi’s, Eben Ezra’s, Rambam’s, Ramban’s, and many others – are still considered today as the authoritative interpretation of the text, as well as its crown jewls.  Beyond that, most orthodox students focus more on the teachings of Oral Torah – the Mishna and the G’mara, which together form the Talmud.  Accordingly, a typical notes on the Portion of the Week from an orthodox Rabbi (or an orthodox student) will almost invariably include some “authoritative” interpretation bits, some Talmudic insights, and perhaps some original thought. Importantly, however, it would contain very little of the biblical text itself. That has not been the approach of this Blog. The idea here was that the text should be conveyed to the readers “as is,” without any ancient (or modern) intermediaries. Indeed, the biblical text itself contains so much beauty, so much richness, so much meaning on its own, that it does not require any supplements to impress the reader – definitely not during the “first date,” or its first readings as it were. (The mistake of attempting to over-impress is committed until today by many a participant of first dates, not only in this context).

Today’s portion provides a great example of the assertion that the text itself may be its own best interpreter.  Thus, the Second Commandment reads, in relevant part:

You shall not make for yourself a sculpture (or) any picture in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. (Deut. 5:8)

Now, what is the meaning of this command? Why is it rank so high on the ladder of our most sacred values, second only to “I am the Lord your God,” which Leibovitz considers as containing the entire Torah?

There are, of course, some obvious answers: First, the prohibition on the making of idols can be seen as mere concretization of the first, more theoretic commandment, forbidding generally to have “any other God over me.”  Second, the creating of idols has been for many years – and is still seen today – as one of the great features of other religions, ones that cannot comprehend the notion of an abstract, transcendent deity. But there is more, much more to that Second Commandment. And unlike the first appearance of the list of commandments three books ago, this time around Moshe provides a very comprehensive picture of the restriction; in fact, he paints the entire relationship of God and the People of Israel as a reflection – pun not intended – of the prohibition on making any picture, sculpture, or image of God. Though you may read for yourself (and enjoy) starting at Deut. 4:11 and ending at 4:20, here’s a summary of the argument:

-        During the time the People of Israel approached the Mountain to receive the Ten Commandments, God spoke to the people – so the people heard the voices but could not see the image…

-        And the People of Israel were ordered to be very careful, for they have not seen the image on the day God has spoken to them from the fire …

-        And the People of Israel were warned not to be corrupt – to start making any sculpture or picture of anything on earth, in the sky, or beneath the waters….

-        Beware of forgetting the Covenant you have with your God, by making sculpture and pictures against His express commands …

-        When your first generation of sons is being born, and then the second, beware of them being corrupted by creating the sculptures and pictures – an evil in the eyes of God…   

 

Thus, if you only want, you could find it all in there: Past, present, future, relationship built from the ground up and from the heavens downward – it is all there. Just like the great moment of the Giving of the Torah was signified by no picture, no image, and no sculpture of God (and let us forget for a moment the great sin of the Golden Calf), so the many great moment to follow – the great moment of worship, of “avodat Elohim” – the service of God – should all be completed in our heads only, without an image, a sculpture, or a painting of God.

Our sages did say on the text “Hafoch ba ve’Hafoch ba, dechula ba” – turn its pages and turn it pages again – it’s all in there. Indeed you would only read the text, the beauty will come out all on its own.

II. Moshe’s Famous Plea to God

Faithful readers of this Blog know full well that it fully endorses Moshe’s greatness; indeed, “from Moshe to Moshe there has never been as Moshe” (said originally on Maimonides, but fully conveys the notion of his greatness).  But this week’s portions reveals, yet again, that Moshe, like all of us, was first and foremost human.

Last week we have discussed Moshe’s “revisionist” history, when describing to the people Yitro’s advice on the Judicial Branch without, of course, mentioning Yitro with as much as a hint. This week, Moshe begs God – hence the portion’s title “Va’Etchanen” (“and I shall beg”) – to allow him to enter the Land of Israel, despite God’s decision to punish him but not letting him do so. Let us leave for a moment the notion that Moshe, the only true “slave of God” truly believes that the Lord would actually change His mind following Moshe’s begging. True, that has happened – even several times – but those occasions had one thing in common: They related to God’s “decision” to destroy the entire People of Israel, a decision Moshe fought against several times, all successfully. But never before, so it seems, did God regret a personal decision regarding someone. And yet Moshe begs him to change his mind, without bringing forth many reasons to do so. But that, again, is not my point today.

To me, the most interesting thing in the confession Moshe makes – while delivering his speech to the People of Israel – reveals that he, Moshe, does not understand at all why God has prevented him from getting into the Land of Israel. Twice in this portion alone does Moshe explain why, in his opinion, God prevented him from doing so, and twice he gets it wrong. Both times, in Moshe’s mind, it was not for his own deeds (or sins) that he was punished, but rather “on your [the People of Israel’s] account” – that is, because of the sins of the People of Israel. (Compare Deut. 3:26 with 4:21)   

Once again, then, we are confronted with somewhat of a revisionist history: It was not for Moshe’s refusal to talk to the Rock (or for his killing of the Egyptian man without an explicit authorization from God, as one Midrash boldly claims), but rather due to the sins of others that Moshe has suffered. Such rewriting of history (not to mention a notion that was happily adopted many years later by Christians who insist that their Lord has suffered for the sins of others) should be read with a grain of salt, and should also used as an important lesson: Even the greatest ones sometime tend to belittle their own misdeeds on the account of others.

Then again, in my mind at least, Moshe was right in that the punishment was not proportional to the sin: Moshe should have at least be entitled to see the end of the passage he led for over 40 years, without any reward and in inhumane conditions, with the help of no-one (but God himself) and without any discernable reward (other than the closeness of God himself).

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron 

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron

Parashat D'varim, Deut. 1:1-3:22

Today we begin to read the last book of the Chumash, Deuteronomy. Perhaps feeling his end is near, too, Moshe starts this last book – D’varim, in Hebrew (meaning “the things,” or “the statements”) – with a summary of all that has happened in the past forty years: What was done, where it took place, what was achieved, and, in particular, what is still in need of repair.

At first glance, this portion does not seem to reveal much new material, in particular to those who carefully followed the portions thus far. Accordingly, most commentators tend to virtually ignore it, emphasizing, instead, the fact that it is read on the Shabbat before Tisha’h Be’Av (the Ninth Day of the month of Av, the “saddest day in the Jewish calendar,” in which both Temples were destroyed).  From there those commentators proceed to discuss the meaning of that special day and its implications, instead of dwelling further on the portion itself.

But the portion – put under a magnifying glass, admittedly – does provide some gems. I want to focus on two today – one from the portion itself, and one from its Haftara.

The Legal Systems and Rewriting History

As you may recall, back in the day (Exodus, 18:14) we read on Yitro, Moshe’s father-in-law, who came to visit him and was struck by the fact that Moshe alone deals with all legal matters, small and large.

“And Moshe’s father-in-law saw all that Moshe is doing to the people, and he said: What is that which you do to the people; why would you sit all alone and all the people stand upon you from morning to night … [And Yitro said:] Not good is that thing that you do; you shall wither away, and so would the people, as this task is too heavy for you – you may not do it on your own. Now listen to my advice – I shall advise you and God shall be with you…”

Yitro then provided his famous “advice” to Moshe – to nominate lower courts, intermediate courts, even supreme courts, and only then to bring the most serious challenges personally to him, to Moshe (see last portion and the story of Zlophchad’s daughters as an example). And Moshe complies: “And Moshe heeded his father-in-law’s advice, and Moshe has done all that [Yitro] said.” (Ex. 18:24)   

I have quoted in length from Yitro’s speech, as this story – the creation of a multi-layered, fully functioning legal system – takes center stage in Moshe’s summary in today’s portion. Yet, astonishingly, both Yitro’s name and contribution are completely missing from the story, as if he had nothing to do with the creation of this judiciary system. Instead, the summary goes something along the following lines: Moshe tells, in the first person, about his experience with the people. You, he explains, became too many, “as many as the stars in the sky.” (Deut. 1:10) I (Moshe) therefore couldn’t handle all of you anymore, and so I have asked that you nominate political leaders to each of your tribe – a move you have all agreed too; I have also (claims Moshe) devised this hierarchical systems of judges – from the smallest matters to the largest – and have asked them to resolve all cases and controversies between you.

So, copyright on this McKinsey-scale advice aside, why did Moshe completely ignore the (major) role played by his father-in-law in this story? The simple answer – this is just another example of re-writing history after the fact (a practice copied, and then perfected, by leaders of all stripes in the thousands of years since) – is especially troubling in this case. This book is called “Mishne Torah” – it should serve as the summary of everything that has happened prior. Every first-year practicing lawyer knows that if his Closing Arguments would misrepresent the facts as were revealed during trial, the judge may disqualify his argument (or even call for a mistrial, in extreme cases).  Why would Moshe want to recreate history in this way?

But something good does come out of this second version of the story. Moshe takes this opportunity not only to rewrite history (again, it’s “his-story”), but also to improve upon it (another practice emulated by many a leader since).  Here he provides a short essay on legal philosophy, which is extremely important, though not necessarily grounded in fact. Moshe claims that he has instructed the judges he nominated  (nothing like this appears in the original version) as follows:

Hear out your fellow men and brethrens, you shall judge justly between a men and his fellow Israelite, and a men and his gentile. You shall not partial in judgment, one law you shall have; you shall listen to the small people as you have to the large; you shall fear no one, because the judgment is for God. And those matters that are too hard for you, you shall bring those to me and I shall hear it. (Deut. 1:16-18)

These always-timely principles should guide our lawyers, our judges, and all of us – even today.

The Beauty of the Text

Today Haftora, the beginning of the Book of Isaiah (1:1 – 3:22), may remind many readers one of the main reasons for the Bible being the biggest best-seller of all times: It is simply written beautifully.  The text is truly sublime. 

Thus, many years after the Bible was written, we find William Shakespeare (a noted bible scholar, as you all aware) putting these iconic words in the mouth of Mark Anthony in Julius Caesar: 

“Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft interred with their bones. So let it be with Caesar.”

Long before that, we find a humble prophet, Isaiah, who begins the Book carrying his name with a stunningly similar tone:

Hear O heavens, and give ear O earth, For the Lord has spoken:

“Children I have raised and cherished, and they have sinned against me,”

An ox knows its owner, and an Ass his master’s crib;

[But] Israel refuses to know; my people refuses to observe.”

Though the content is almost unimaginably harsh, surely the sublime manner in which it is presented made it a great read then – and now, thousands of years later.

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron