TORAH TALK
Parashat Nitzavim-Vayelech ~ The Last Shabbat
Deuteronomy 29:9-31:30
Parashat Nitzavim-Vayelech ~ The Last Shabbat
Deuteronomy 29:9-31:30
This is it, the last Shabbat of the Jewish year coming to a close. No, my sermons are not finished; no, I’m not ready for services; yes, this happens to me every year; and yes, as much as every year I keep hoping it will be less stressful and I will feel more like a pro even after 23 years in the rabbinate, I still thrive on the deep dive into myself that his time of years calls forth. Of course, this year will be decidedly different in how Jewish communities mark these holy days, but the themes are no less relevant, the liturgy no less heartfelt, and the need for personal and communal teshuvah --repentance and return—no less urgent.
Every time I open Parashiot Nitzavim-Vayelech, I imagine how the Israelites felt standing on the plains of Moab, knowing Moses was not going with them into the land, having to absorb so many lessons he was teaching them, ultimately trying to absorb the understanding that they have a choice in the world as to who they will become.
The portions are encouraging—a great “send-off” from Moses—reminding the people that their capacity to follow the covenant, and the understanding to do what needs to be done is not far from the people: Lo bashamayim hi--it is not in heaven, or across the sea that would be difficult to access. No, the text tells us, these teachings are very close to us, in our mouths and in our hearts, to observe them.
The covenant between God and the people was not just made for the generation of the wilderness; it was also for the generations yet to come. The Israelites are reminded that their choice is between hahayim v’hatov v’et hamavet v’et hara--life and goodness vs. death and evil (30:15). Moses is trying to help the people understand that choosing goodness is the path to life, and the way forward towards life is with an open or circumcised heart.
In the last verse of the portion, the text reads “u’vacharta bachaim l’ma-an tichye”--choose life that you might live. One commentator, Abraham Ibn Ezra, a Jewish scholar and scientist of the 12th century comments that “hahayim hem l’ahava," life is for love, and immediately following, “ki hu hayecha,” for God is life. Ibn Ezra teaches that the experience of God, love, and life are tightly woven together and are critical to our conception of the covenant between God and the Jewish people that we reaffirm at this time of year.
The Israelites didn’t know what they would encounter in the Promised Land any more than you or I know what the coming year will bring. But their connection to something bigger than themselves is often what sustained them as they made their way through uncharted territory.
We cannot choose all the things that will happen in our life, its beginning or its end. But every day we are responsible for the quality of love and commitment that defines our life, our learning, and even our leadership. That is our part in the covenant.
The Talmud tells the story of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya who was 18-years old when he was called into leadership in a time of communal crisis. He stayed up most of the night in anguish, fearing he lacked the age and experience necessary for the position. But when he woke up the next morning, R’ Elazar looked like a 70-year-old, having miraculously aged many years overnight, with the newfound wisdom to match his new gray hair.
These past six months have been painful and challenging, as we have all experienced the upheaval brought about by COVID-19 – the nearly 200,000 lives lost, the financial instability, the isolation and uncertainty. These months have also forced us to confront some ugly truths about our country and the deep systemic inequalities still at work in 2020. We’ve had to consider our priorities, our time, and our relationships. In all the heartache we have grown years in a matter of days.
The text imagines that the covenant made between God and the Israelites wasn’t just with that generation alone, but for those thousands of generations yet to come, including ours. What has the last year taught you about covenant making for yourself? Your community and the world?
As we enter into the New Year, may our heart be open. If it is broken, let it be repaired, if it feels depleted, let it be refilled, and may each of us find expanded space for covenant making today and every day.
Shabbat Shalom and Shanah Tovah! May the coming year be one of health, love, peace and much joy for all of us.
Rabbi Yael Ridberg
Every time I open Parashiot Nitzavim-Vayelech, I imagine how the Israelites felt standing on the plains of Moab, knowing Moses was not going with them into the land, having to absorb so many lessons he was teaching them, ultimately trying to absorb the understanding that they have a choice in the world as to who they will become.
The portions are encouraging—a great “send-off” from Moses—reminding the people that their capacity to follow the covenant, and the understanding to do what needs to be done is not far from the people: Lo bashamayim hi--it is not in heaven, or across the sea that would be difficult to access. No, the text tells us, these teachings are very close to us, in our mouths and in our hearts, to observe them.
The covenant between God and the people was not just made for the generation of the wilderness; it was also for the generations yet to come. The Israelites are reminded that their choice is between hahayim v’hatov v’et hamavet v’et hara--life and goodness vs. death and evil (30:15). Moses is trying to help the people understand that choosing goodness is the path to life, and the way forward towards life is with an open or circumcised heart.
In the last verse of the portion, the text reads “u’vacharta bachaim l’ma-an tichye”--choose life that you might live. One commentator, Abraham Ibn Ezra, a Jewish scholar and scientist of the 12th century comments that “hahayim hem l’ahava," life is for love, and immediately following, “ki hu hayecha,” for God is life. Ibn Ezra teaches that the experience of God, love, and life are tightly woven together and are critical to our conception of the covenant between God and the Jewish people that we reaffirm at this time of year.
The Israelites didn’t know what they would encounter in the Promised Land any more than you or I know what the coming year will bring. But their connection to something bigger than themselves is often what sustained them as they made their way through uncharted territory.
We cannot choose all the things that will happen in our life, its beginning or its end. But every day we are responsible for the quality of love and commitment that defines our life, our learning, and even our leadership. That is our part in the covenant.
The Talmud tells the story of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya who was 18-years old when he was called into leadership in a time of communal crisis. He stayed up most of the night in anguish, fearing he lacked the age and experience necessary for the position. But when he woke up the next morning, R’ Elazar looked like a 70-year-old, having miraculously aged many years overnight, with the newfound wisdom to match his new gray hair.
These past six months have been painful and challenging, as we have all experienced the upheaval brought about by COVID-19 – the nearly 200,000 lives lost, the financial instability, the isolation and uncertainty. These months have also forced us to confront some ugly truths about our country and the deep systemic inequalities still at work in 2020. We’ve had to consider our priorities, our time, and our relationships. In all the heartache we have grown years in a matter of days.
The text imagines that the covenant made between God and the Israelites wasn’t just with that generation alone, but for those thousands of generations yet to come, including ours. What has the last year taught you about covenant making for yourself? Your community and the world?
As we enter into the New Year, may our heart be open. If it is broken, let it be repaired, if it feels depleted, let it be refilled, and may each of us find expanded space for covenant making today and every day.
Shabbat Shalom and Shanah Tovah! May the coming year be one of health, love, peace and much joy for all of us.
Rabbi Yael Ridberg