The Ties That Bind Us
D’var Torah for Parashat Ki Tavo
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
Last week’s portion dealt with
comings and goings, with those myriads of details that comprise daily life. The perspective of this week’s reading, Ki Tavo (“When you come into the Land,”
Deuteronomy 26:1—29:8), broadens out to give us the larger picture. It isn’t about how we deal with any
particular incident or situation, but rather about how we relate to the big
themes of our existence.
As succinctly and precisely as
it can (and, oh! how horribly graphic at times), Ki Tavo posits for us the three major tenets that make us a people:
We are the People of Israel; we
have a tradition, a past and a history that goes back to the earliest days, a
history shaped not only by events but also by God.
We have a Land.
We have the Torah.
These three themes intertwine,
like the strands of the challah that we say a blessing over on Shabbat. But each also stands on its own, each with
its own requirements and obligations, each with its own incentive and recompense.
As a people, we are required to
memorize and recount our history. Our
history is, after all, more than a story or myth. It is at the core of our self-identity. Our survival, in fact our very existence,
depend on how well we remember our roots and our past. Thus, every year we recite a passage from Ki Tavo, verses that trace our genesis. “An Aramean [sought to] destroy my
forefather,” Deut. 26: 5-8, is one of the oldest parts of our liturgy, recited
annually at the Passover Seder. All
else—the matzah, the bitter herbs,
the gefilteh fish and all the other
traditions associated with the holiday—are but symbols and illustration of this
account of our origin, colored by the various customs we bring with us. But it’s these words that are at the heart of
it all. We are Israel, steeped in
oppression, yet God rescues us time and again and brings us to this Promised
Land. This is the overarching story of
our life.
Ki Tavo
describes the Land of Israel as “A land flowing with milk and honey” (Deut. 26:9). It produces a bounty of food, enough to feed
not only oneself and one’s family, but also the rest of the community,
including the Levites, the homeless and the needy. It’s a land that offers safety and protection
to its dwellers, a source of blessing for all humanity. But it does require our faithful caretaking. That means not only that we must tend to it,
but also that we must not pollute it—physically or spiritually. It is God’s Land; we are but its caretakers.
Finally, we have the
Torah. A set of rules by which to live,
the Torah is eternal, yet also must be written, heard and thoroughly
explained. It’s a teaching, after all,
one that must be passed on throughout the generations. The laws of righteousness are not necessarily
obvious; they’re certainly not in the genes.
In fact, sometimes they seem to go contrary to natural instinct. All too often it is easier to flee from the
difficult tasks, to hide our face from poverty and misery (whether because of
shame or guilt, or because of some unwarranted sense of superiority or relief).
Yet the Torah calls on us to go the one step further, to carry justice on and
forward, to work twice as hard to ease the suffering of the oppressed. The Torah may be eternal, but it is up to us
to make sure it passes from generation to generation. We sustain it, and in return the Torah
nourishes and maintains us through the ages.
These three pillars of our
faith underlie our existence as much as they define our purpose. We are, at every moment of our history,
Israel, product of our past, the result not only of our interaction with the
nations around us, but also stemming from our relationship with our God.
We are Jews because we come
from the Land of Israel, once called Judea, and we are destined to return there
en masse—a prophecy we have been blessed to see fulfilled in our own days.
And it is with pride that we
call ourselves—at this K’hillat Kodesh,
a sacred community—B’nai Torah, the children of the Torah. Here we study Torah and delve into its words
as we strive to understand its higher meaning.
Here we teach Torah to our children and explain it well, lest it be
forgotten and we cease to exist.
It is here that the three
tenets of our faith intersect, keeping us alive, giving us purpose and context,
imbuing our lives with meaning and holiness.
It’s ours to maintain—with
God’s Presence always at our side.
© 2013 by Boaz D. Heilman
No comments:
Post a Comment