Setting Limitless
Boundaries
D’var Torah for
Parashat Ki Tavo
By Rabbi Boaz D.
Heilman
Ki Tavo
(Deuteronomy 26:1—29:8), this week’s Torah portion, picks up where last week’s
portion left off. Having had a chance to
review the rules by which we interact with others, whether in war, love or
business, Ki Tavo has us take a
closer look at us, ourselves. It’s about
us as a community, as a people, and as a nation with a mission.
Ki Tavo (“When you
arrive”) first defines our history. As a
people, we were redeemed by God from slavery in Egypt. As a nation, we arrive at the Promised Land. It is a broad arc of time, a swath that
stretches across the centuries. It’s our
story, one we tell and retell (Deut. 26:5-10).
Originally this is what we proclaimed as we brought the first fruit of
our labors to the Temple in Jerusalem.
Later on, these verses became the origin-story that we repeated and
retold at the Passover Seder table. As
much history as parable, this section holds true at every age and generation. For every exile, there is a return. After every enslavement, there must be redemption
and liberation.
Ki Tavo reminds us
of God’s hand in the making of this history.
Moses’s name isn’t mentioned once here.
It’s God’s strong hand that redeems us from Egypt, God’s outstretched
arm that brings us into the Promised Land.
It is to God that we bring our first fruit, in acknowledgment of the
wonder and miracle of it all.
At the same time, however, Ki Tavo teaches that being a community—even a Sacred
Community—isn’t only about serving God.
It’s about helping the needy. Our
tithes, offerings and gifts aren’t offered to please God. Our God needs no food; our God needs and
requires us to feed the hungry, to strengthen the weak, to find shelter for the
homeless.
This mission defines the Israelite People as much as our
history. God’s blessings come to us not
because of some mystical connection that was once made, in a legendary,
far-away time and place. We must earn
daily the right to enjoy the fruit of the earth. The richness of the Promised Land—“a land
flowing with milk and honey” (Deut. 26:9, 15)—is our remuneration, our wages,
for the role we play in maintaining the land and for taking care of the needy
among us.
Setting aside food for the Levite, the stranger, the orphan
and the widow become the preamble of this sacred Covenant that Israel now seals
with God. Fulfilling the vow and seeing
to it that the hungry are fed first is the prerequisite for all the other
commandments.
The extent and breadth of the Israelite community is as
magnificent as are our history and mission.
Our responsibility extends to the Levite as well as to the stranger, to
the most devoted to God’s teachings as well as to the one who is the least
connected. God’s blessings aren’t
restricted only to this ultra-religious sect or another. Faith is a rainbow that contains all shades
of belief.
Nor must the privileges of peoplehood, recognition as valid
members of this nation, be restricted only to the rich and powerful. Often relegated to the periphery of society,
beyond our line of vision, are those who need our help most urgently: the orphan and the widow. They are truly the weakest links in our
society, and therefore they must be strengthened.
A nation is comprised of all its members, not only the
preferred ones; we must support one another without prejudice or bias.
Parashat Ki Tavo then sets out one of the
most important values of the Jewish people:
Education. On entering the
Promised Land, lest we forget, the words of the Covenant, of the Torah, must be
repeated. They must be written in stone,
taught, spoken and explained well: Ba’er
heitev (Deut. 27:8). “Explicitly”
and “clearly” is how two English translations explain these words. Rashi, the famed 11th century
rabbi, teacher and Torah commentator, emphasizes: “In seventy languages,” thus
expanding the physical, spiritual, geographical and cultural boundaries that define
the Jewish people.
The irony of it all, however, is that the laws and rules
which God gives us are ours to choose or reject. Granted, there are consequences, even dire
consequences, to our choices. But we are
free to decide our own way. The entire
second half of this portion has the Israelites agreeing to these rules,
responding “Amen” after each and every commandment. It’s a unanimous choice, a Covenant entered freely
by the entire people.
Ki Tavo is one of
Moses’s greatest visions, almost equal to the vision of God he experienced on
Mt. Sinai: A people united over time and
space, bound by mutual and inclusive responsibility, charged with a holy task
and mission, entrusted with cultural, ethical and moral values.
Despite the obstacles and challenges that Moses knows yet
loom ahead, he can be confident. He is
certain that, as long as these words are repeated, ba’er heitev, the Israelite People will remain God’s people, “am segula,” consecrated, blessed and protected
by God’s sheltering Presence.
© 2014 by Boaz D. Heilman
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