Past and Future
Blessings
D’var Torah for Ki
Tavo
By Rabbi Boaz D.
Heilman
Sept. 8, 2017
The book of Deuteronomy is designed to be a recap—a
reflection on the events of the Exodus and the forty-year wandering in the
wilderness that followed. But as Moses
looks back on the miracles as well as the travails that resulted in the
Covenant between God and Israel, he also looks forward to the future, issuing
warnings and dire consequences.
This week’s portion, Ki
Tavo (“As You Enter,” Deut. 15:1—29:8) begins optimistically enough. Once they are settled in the Land of Israel,
the Israelites are commanded to take of the first fruit of their harvest and
bring it to the Temple. As they present
this offering to the High Priest, they are commanded to recite a summary of
their history—one of the oldest paragraphs in the Jewish liturgy (and one we
still repeat every year at our Passover Seders): Arami oveid avi—“my father was a wandering Aramean.”
Designed to show the humble origins of our people—persecuted
and without direction—this prayer concludes on a more confident and optimistic
note: We have arrived. We have taken
possession of the Land God had promised our ancestors and us, and as proof of
my guardianship I bring these excellent first fruit the Land has given me.
Naturally, a celebration follows, reminding us of the famous
summary of Jewish history composed by some latter day pundit: They tried to
kill us, they failed, let’s eat!
But Ki Tavo
doesn’t end on this note. Moses issues
some harsh warnings for the future.
There will be consequences, he tells us, if we forget the true source of
our blessings.
We sometimes look at the past through rose-tinted
glasses. In fact, several times during
the 40-year track through the wilderness the Israelites look back wistfully at
the “good old days” in Egypt. Forgetting
the harsh slavery and cruel genocide, they recall with longing the food, the
leeks and cucumbers, the fish and meat that seemed to appear effortlessly on
their plates.
And so it is with us, too.
The hardship of the past is often forgotten, overshadowed by the storms
and tribulations of our current troubles.
We think of our childhood as carefree days. True, by comparison those
days were wonderful. Our food (at least
for most of us) did appear on our plates on a regular basis, without question
or doubt. Looking back, we think of how
we made our way to school with only our backpacks on our back, not the financial
or health problems that weigh on us today.
We smile at the worries we carried with us then—whether we had prepared
our homework properly or studied sufficiently for a test.
But, as we look almost fondly at those good ol’ days, the
lesson that we often fail to understand is that we are who and what we are
today because of the past. It isn’t
until we become parents ourselves that we realize what our parents went through
to make sure that there was food on our plates, a roof over our heads, books
and sundry supplies to keep us on the right path at school.
“My father was a wandering Aramean.” In search of livelihood
and safety, our parents traveled far and wide, day and night, often crossing
wilderness and oceans. They weathered
storms, degradation and deprivation in order to see us happier and more
successful than they had managed to be.
Looking at the past with appreciation for what was done for
us is one of the great messages of Ki
Tavo. Taking for granted the gifts
with which we are blessed today is one of the great mistakes we can make in
life. Showing gratitude is learned behavior,
and the best way to teach this important lesson to to our children is to
exercise it in our own lives.
It is not mere coincidence that this portion is read just a
couple of weeks before Rosh Ha-Shanah, the beginning of the Jewish New
Year. As any good teacher knows,
repeating some lessons of the past is a good way to begin a new school year. Only
then come the rules and warnings that we must heed as we look forward. There are too many unknowns, too many
temptations, too many variables. Future
success is not guaranteed.
And so the portion continues with a set of blessings and
curses. The former are uplifting and
joyful; the latter are frightening enough to make the blood freeze in our
veins. (It is customary at services for
these verses to be read in an undertone, quietly and quickly, so horrifying are
they to hear and think about).
As children, we are most often afraid of what our parents or
teachers will say if we fail to do the right thing. What will they do when they find out that we
didn’t do our homework? That we failed a test? That we received detention for
some infraction or another? As adults,
reality is that much more frightening.
The consequences are that much more significant and far-reaching.
In Ki Tavo, Moses
reminds us to consider the past as well as the future. Do not take your blessings for granted, he
reminds us. Many have struggled and
sacrificed their all to see that these blessings be there in our life. Gratitude is the first lesson we need to
learn.
The second, and even more important lesson, is to pay
careful attention to what we do today.
The future will depend on how we live today, how we treat one another,
how we sustain the earth, how we teach our children.
As the Israelites reach the end of their arduous wanderings
in the wilderness, they can see the Promised Land lying just before them. It would be so easy to jump into the Jordan
River—a mere rivulet by comparison to the mighty Nile—to skip on a stone or two
and take possession of what they see as rightfully theirs. But Moses stops them from doing that. “Reflect on the past,” he warns. Nothing is guaranteed in life. Make sure that you start off right and
continue on the right path. As the
future unfolds, keep in mind that much of what it holds will depend on you. Your next few steps will be the most crucial
of all. Take care. The consequences will be real and oh! so far reaching.
These are proper lessons for us to consider today as well.
© 2017 by Boaz D. Heilman
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