TORAH SPARKS

 

 

Parashat Re eh

August 27, 2022 | 1 Elul 5782

Torah: Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17; Triennial 15:1-16:17

Haftarah: Isaiah 66:1-24

 

 

 

The Long and Short of It

Ilana Kurshan

 

I began reading through a collection of midrashim to prepare for the writing of this Dvar Torah while in my son s room at bedtime last night. He has a hard time falling asleep, and although he s really too old to need a parent at his bedside, every so often I agree to sit on his floor and read by the glow of his nightlight. Except that last night, he was acting wild and unruly, and in spite of my repeated shushing, he continued to try to provoke me so that I d pay attention to him. I warned him to settle down, but he continued misbehaving, kicking the blanket into the air like a parachute. I realized for a split second that I ought to take a deep breath and remind him about the importance of getting a good night s sleep, but instead, I lost my cool and yelled at him angrily, tossing the blanket back on top of him before storming out of the room. I reopened the Sifrei the midrashic collection I d been reading and immediately caught sight of a midrash that left me flooded with guilt.

 

In the opening verses of this week s parashah, Moshe tells the

Israelites that they have two paths they must choose between. See,

this day I set before you blessing and curse. Blessing, if you obey the commandments of the Lord your God And curse, if you do not obey (11:26-27). When Moshe lays it out this way, it seems so simple: Why wouldn t the people choose to obey the commandments and receive God s blessing? Who would choose the curse instead? The Sifrei, in the midrash I read after yelling at my son, brings a parable to explain why the choice between blessing and curse is not as simple as it might appear, and how we can nonetheless choose wisely.

 

The midrash (Sifrei Deuteronomy 53) begins by drawing a parallel between the opening verses of our parashah and a verse from much later in Deuteronomy, towards the conclusion of Moshe s long and final address to the people: I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life (30:19). People might think that since there are two options, they can feel free to choose either one the blessing or the curse. The second verse is necessary to teach that God commands us to choose the path of life and blessing. The midrash then cites a parable about a person sitting at a crossroads with two paths before him, one of which starts out smoothly but ends in a thorny bramble, and one of which starts out thorny but ends in a clearing. The person informs every passerby, Do you see this path which starts out smoothly? For two or three paces you will walk easily, and then it leads to thorns. And do you see that other path that is full of thorns at the beginning? For two or three steps you will walk through thorns, but it ends in a clearing. The passerby, who can see only what lies before, does not realize that the paths are deceptive; the one that seems clear will, in fact, prove thorny, and vice versa. He needs the man at the crossroads in order to make an informed decision about which way to go.

 

The midrash goes on to explain that Moshe is the guide who sits at the crossroads and tells the people that although it appears that the wicked are prospering, this will only be the case for two or three

days ; in the end they will be full of regret. Likewise, the righteous appear to suffer in this world, but ultimately they are bound to rejoice. The two paths thus correspond to the fate of the wicked and the righteous: For the wicked, life starts out smooth but leads to brambles of remorse, and for the righteous the opposite is the case.

 

The metaphor of the crossroads has been invoked by many writers, philosophers, and scholars, from Robert Frost s two roads diverging in a yellow wood to Sophocles Oedipus the King s fateful murder of his father where the roads cross in Laius. At the crossroads, a fateful decision determines the path a person will travel in life. But we don t come to the crossroads at only one point in our lives. The Talmud (Eruvin 53b) tells a story about Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hananya, who was once walking along a path when he came to a crossroads where a young boy sat. Rabbi Yehoshua asked him which path to take to get to the city. The boy responded cryptically, This path is short and long, and that path is long and short. Rabbi Yehoshua took the short and long path and discovered that although it quickly brought him to the border of the city, he then had to traverse many gardens and orchards in order to arrive at his destination. He returned to the boy, and asked, Didn t you tell me this way is short? The boy responded, And didn t I tell you that it is also long? Here too, the two paths are deceptive; the short cut actually takes longer.

 

Notably, Rabbi Yehoshua is not making a single fateful choice, but rather traveling to a city, presumably a regular occurrence. His story reminds us that so often in life at least several times a day we find ourselves at a crossroads where we must choose between the path that promises satisfaction in the short term and the path that will enable us to reach our more long-term goals. Often we can t see much farther along the paths, which makes it all the more difficult to choose.

Someone once told me that for parents of young children, the days are long but the years are short. In the short term the days seem long, but in the long term the years seem short. So much of parenting seems to be about looking beyond our short-term frustrations and understanding what our children ultimately need, and how we can help them along the way. In the short term, the best course seemed to be to yell at my son at bedtime. But if I really wanted to achieve the more long-term goal of teaching him how to fall asleep at night, I ought to have kept my cool and explained to him, more calmly, why it was so important to settle down. That night he was up quite late, upset that I had lost my temper. The path that seemed shorter just yell at him and leave his room in anger had proven longer after all. Hopefully next time I will remember the midrash about the crossroads and use it as my guide.

To Lend or to Give?

Vered Hollander-Goldfarb

 

Text: Devarim 15:1-11

 

1 At the end of seven years you shall make a release (Shmitah). 2And this is the Shmitah: Every lender who has lent to his fellow man shall release it; he shall not demand it of his fellow man or his brother, because it is called the Lord s Shmitah 4Yet there shall be no needy person among you; for the Lord will greatly bless you 5only if you carefully obey the voice of the Lord your God, to observe with care all these commandments which I command you today

7If there is among you a needy person of your brethren you shall not harden your heart nor shut your hand from your needy person brother.

8but you shall surely open your hand to him and surely lend him sufficient for his need, whatever he needs

 

Verses 1-6 are known as a monetary Shmitah. Verses 7-11 are the basis for Tzedakah.

 

● Why do you think that the mitzvah to release loans is attached to the Shmitah year? (It could have been 7 years from the start of the loan.) Try to think about this from the borrower s and the lender s perspectives.

 

● Verses. 7-8 make it clear that giving is not optional, it is a mitzvah. However, the Torah does not command to give tzedakah but rather a loan. So why do we consider this to be the source for the mitzvah of tzedakah? You may want to refer to the mitzvah right before it. What is the relationship between these mitzvot?

● Why is a loan, rather than a gift, viewed as a preferable way of helping a person?

 

Commentar y: R. Joseph Bechor Shor Dvarim 15:2

 

For it is called your brother [called] Shmitah to his fields. the LORD s for the sake of the LORD, and therefore he has no means to repay his debt.

 

● Why is forgiving the debt placed specifically at the Shmitah year?

 

Commentar y: R. Avraham Isaac HaCohen Kook, Ein Aiah, Shvi it

10

 

The main purpose of releasing the debt is to remove the heavy burden that accumulates due to the control of the rich over the poor For the subservient [attitude] and the enslavement will be imprinted in the heart of one who feels himself indebted to his fellow; the borrower is servant to the lender (Proverbs 22:7)

 

● Why is it necessary to release the debt, to cancel it completely?

 

● What kind of burden is formed by debt (aside from the obvious financial one)?

 

● R. Kook speaks of the impact of the situation on the borrower.

What might be the impact on the entire society if such control continues to accumulate in the hands of some over others? How would you suggest dealing with such a social situation?

Birth Before Labor

Bex Stern Rosenblatt

 

 

The Tanakh tells the same story, over and over again, in four basic versions. It is the story of creation, turning astray, punishment, and restoration. We read this story first in the story of Eve and Adam, the story of the creation of humanity and the explanation of our most fundamental nature. We read this story over and over again throughout the Exodus from Egypt, as God creates Israel, the nation that strays from God s laws and suffers before God returns us to them. We read this story with the creation of Israel, the place full of Israelites who whore after the people of the land and their gods. The land vomits us out and we go into exile, before being returned again to the land. The last version of this story is the messianic version. The Tanakh tells the story of the day of the Lord, the day to come when a final reckoning will happen, to create something final by accounting for those who have turned astray, punishing them appropriately, and then bringing the world into a new messianic era.

 

 

There is great promise in the fact that this story is told so many times and in so many different ways. It seems to be true. We are promised a covenantal relationship; we are promised a bond with God that will survive through destruction, disbelief, and folly. Our covenant does not guarantee our peace or our happiness. But it does guarantee our survival as a nation to keep repeating the story, to continue being in relationship with God.

 

 

This week s haftarah expresses this idea beautifully, using the metaphor of birth. We read, as Robert Alter translates: Before she

labors, she gives birth, before the birth pangs come upon her, she delivers a male. On a totally literal level, the verse seems to describe the birthing process happening in the wrong order. A woman first has a baby and then suffers labor pains. However, when we read it as a microcosm of the basic story of the Tanakh, it makes more sense. Creation happens before punishment. We are given something good and then we suffer to keep it. God chooses to create humanity, to pick Abraham, and to liberate Israel from Egypt without anyone having done anything to deserve it. But once we are so chosen, once we are birthed into existence, our labor pains start. In order to keep our relationship with God, in order to exist as God created us, we must work hard and we inevitably will fail. We were created with labor in mind.

 

 

This verse points us to the cyclic nature of retelling the same story over and over again. This verse could refer to the creation of humanity, the creation of Israel as a nation, the creation of Israel in the land, the restoration of Israel to the land after exile, or a future messianic vision for Israel. Our story gets ever wider, always beginning with God s gift of covenant. Birth always precedes labor, but every labor also indicates that a new birth is coming.