Renewing the Vows: D’var Torah for the Sabbath during Passover: Exodus 33:12 – 34:26, Numbers 28:19-25

Renewing the Vows
D’var Torah for the Sabbath during Passover: Exodus 33:12 – 34:26, Numbers 28:19-25
Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
Passover 5770

On the Shabbat during Passover, the weekly cycle of Torah readings takes a break. There’ll be plenty of time next week to resume with the story. But Pesach is a special time. It’s our anniversary with God. On this Shabbat we renew our vows with God.

In the verses from Exodus chapter 33, we read of Moses’ request to actually witness God’s presence—not only for his own benefit, but as proof of God’s promise to dwell among us. He is granted a part of his wish. No one can see God’s face, not even Moses; but God would protect Moses while passing before him, letting Moses see God’s tracks, God’s footprints as it were, left behind on the sand. That’s good enough for Moses, and the bond is sealed. Even in the worst of circumstances, God will be there with us.

Chapter 34 documents an even more encompassing Covenant—the one between God and all Israel. This chapter contains one of the most stunning moments in the whole Torah, as Moses gets to set terms and limitations upon God’s powers—and God agrees. God must agree, as it were, to a statute of limitations. Punishments for crimes and misdemeanors cannot exceed four generations; rewards, however, carry forward for thousands of generations! Considering that God is God, and that Moses is only a human being, we can only ask ourselves why God agrees to such limits. A deeply philosophical question, we perhaps may get a glimpse (and only that) into God’s reasoning, only we must wait for it.

A more practical question to ask would be why do the punishments have to be inflicted upon the children and grandchildren as all? Can’t only the perpetrator be punished, while the innocent are left alone?

These questions characterize Israel ever since Abraham, the earliest Hebrew, and well into Tevya the Milkman’s days of pulling his cart because his horse takes ill on a Friday afternoon. Why do the innocent have to suffer at all?

The answer to this one is simple: That’s just the way it is. All our deeds have consequences. Whether we realize that or not, there are immediate results to every action. Some become apparent right away. Others may take a while to appear. Still other consequences we may be in denial about—but they are still there, gnawing away at the foundations of our life until we admit that we have done something wrong. All too often, the ones who bear the brunt of our misdeeds are the ones closest to us. They may be totally innocent, but the guilt, the shame and the anger are only some of the results of what we do, and these definitely have an effect on all who are around us, including the children. Asking why is almost irrelevant. Isaac Newton’s Third Law of Motion proves what the Torah understood so fundamentally so long ago. This is a powerful lesson for us all—to think before we act; to consider who may be affected. There is no such thing as a deed done in secret, and the misdeeds of parents DO affect the children. Deeply.

Still, what Moses argues for—and, amazingly, receives—is a promise from God that the consequences of our bad deeds be limited to four generations at most. One lifetime, if you stop and consider how many generations coexist at any point in time: Often enough, we share space, time and life with parents, children and grandchildren. That’s as far as the punishment goes. Four generations. One lifetime.

A good deed, on the other hand, goes on almost eternally: “Thousands of generations!”

It’s a powerful agreement. And God agrees to it.

In return, God asks for exclusive worship rights and outlines what that means: Keeping the Sabbath; celebrating the holy days; showing kindness and respect to all life around us, including children, the earth and the animals. It’s an offer we can’t refuse.

With the deal agreed upon by all, Israel then receives the Ten Commandments. It’s our ketubbah, our marriage agreement, or partnership if you prefer, with God.

On Passover, we relive the experiences that led us up to this momentous agreement. With word, song and prayer, we repeat our vows. In every generation, each of us places ourselves in this relationship of love/partnership with God. That is the key to our ongoing existence as a people.

So finally perhaps we can answer the bigger question stated above: WHY? Why does God agree to such terms and limitations?

Maybe out of love. Isn’t that, after all, why we enter into a marriage? Why we have children? Isn’t that why we celebrate birthdays and anniversaries and renew our vows? Because we love one another.

Love is never a carefree relationship. It must be nurtured and watched. It can never be taken for granted or misused. It binds us to one another through time and space, linking family units, peoples—and, as it turns out, generations. It is love that links us to our God.

On Passover, as we read the terms of our agreement, we renew the vows between Israel and God. This Shabbat, we seal it with a kiss.

A sweet and happy Pesach to all.

©Boaz D. Heilman, 2010