Out Of the Iron Furnace: Va-et-chanan

Out Of the Iron Furnace D’var Torah for Parashat Va-‘et-chanan (Deut. 3:23—7:11) By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

Fire burns. It destroys.

But fire is also transformative. It can sterilize and cleanse; it can make food edible. Fire can generate warmth and maintain ecological systems. It can be used for communication and propulsion. Fire can fuse elements, and fire can also purify them.

In this week’s Torah portion, Va-‘et-chanan (“I entreated”), the symbol of fire appears no less than 13 times. God appears to the Israelites through a great fire at Mount Sinai; God’s voice resounds from within the fire. Once God is described as “a consuming fire, a zealous God” (chapter 4, verse 24). And once, in verse 20 of the same chapter, we are told (in the wonderful King James translation): “But the LORD hath taken you, and brought you forth out of the iron furnace, even out of Egypt, to be unto him a people of inheritance, as ye are this day.” It is through the great force that fire is, that we perceive God, that we hear God’s voice, and that we are transformed—purified, if you will—to become who we are today.

The idea of transformation is essential in Jewish thought in general. We are expected to rise above the merely animalistic in us, to achieve a higher potential that is embedded within us, to let God’s image within us echo and reverberate. In the book of Deuteronomy, the theme of transformation develops further. It is Judaism itself that becomes transformed, evolving continuously as it is transmitted from one generation to the next.

As Va-‘et-chanan begins, Moses entreats God to rescind the harsh decree forbidding him entry into the Promised Land along with the rest of the Israelites. Adamantly however, God refuses and commands Moses to anoint Joshua as leader in his place. Why does God refuse to allow Moses lead the Israelites further? It is actually a blessing in disguise, at least as far as Judaism and the Jewish People are concerned. Many years ago, my college piano professor, a great artist by the name of Alexander Uninsky, told me that his ultimate goal was to enable me not to need a teacher any more. Of course, we never cease to learn; learning comes from many sources and directions. Yet, as long as we merely mimic and copy someone else’s model, we can’t achieve our own potential. Only once we learn to make our own choices and interpret for ourselves can we hope to create something new, something that reflects our own uniqueness and individuality, our own artistry. By turning down Moses’ plea to continue leading, God actually frees all of us to study the Torah and interpret it for ourselves, each generation for its own time and age.

What follows is nothing less than the essence of the whole Torah (5:6-21, 6:4-9): A reprise of the Ten Commandments, the Sh’ma and the “V’a-havta.”

“That is the whole Torah. The rest is commentary—now go and study it.” This famous saying by the first century Rabbi Hillel (admittedly—a comment over another verse…) could be easily applied here too. For it is these three sections that have transformed our people and, through our long history, made us who we are “as of this day.” That’s why they are repeated at this moment in the Torah narrative. It is through the study and performance of mitzvot—the Commandments—that we have linked ourselves with God through all eternity. It is through the recitation of the Sh’ma that generations of martyrs expressed their devotion to God and love for their Jewish heritage even as they suffered the burning fires of pogroms, the Inquisition and of the Holocaust.

Fire burns and consumes, but the Burning Bush that Moses saw at Mount Sinai was transformative. The fire that was ignited in his soul while yet in Egypt reached a momentous climax at that moment, as he linked his own life—and the lives of the entire Jewish people—with God’s will. As his life and career now draw near to conclusion, Moses frees us to pursue our own study of what it means to be God’s chosen people. Every age has its leaders and teachers, its Joshuas and Deborahs. But all they can do is inspire us to continue the ongoing process. No one can force us; we are free people.

When we stood at Mount Sinai we first perceived God’s might. It is through the ongoing study of Torah that our presence and participation in that majestic event carries on, mi-dor l’dor, from generation to generation.

And so we continue to emerge out of the iron furnace that was and is Egypt, always transformed, endlessly striving “to be unto God a people of inheritance, as ye are this day.”

©2010 by Boaz D. Heilman