Preparing for the Greatest Challenge of All—Success

As we begin Sefer Devarim, the Torah opens with a seemingly simple phrase:

"These are the words that Moshe spoke to all Israel..." (Devarim 1:1)

Chazal teach that these words mark far more than the beginning of another book. They represent an entirely new stage in Jewish history. For forty years, Moshe Rabbeinu had guided a nation through the wilderness. They experienced miracles every day—the manna from Heaven, the Clouds of Glory, water from Miriam's well, and Divine protection at every step. Now everything was about to change. What was this change and how fundamentally does it affect us? Our member Rabbi Paul Bloom explains.

The Jewish people were preparing to enter Eretz Yisrael. They would no longer live sustained by open miracles. They would plow fields, build homes, establish courts, raise families, defend borders, and create a society rooted in Torah. Moshe understood that this new generation faced challenges unlike any before them. Therefore, he repeated the Torah—but from an entirely different perspective.

The Torah Never Changes—Its Application Does

Many mitzvot taught during the forty years in the desert could only be understood in theory. Agricultural laws. Property ownership. The mitzvot dependent upon the Land of Israel.For an entire generation, these concepts were academic. No one owned land. No one harvested crops. No one dealt with the complexities of building a Jewish society.

Now theory was about to become reality. Moshe's final thirty-six days became a master class in applying eternal Torah to an entirely new environment. Every generation faces this challenge. The Torah itself never changes. Yet each generation must understand how timeless principles apply to new realities. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein confronted electricity, organ transplants, modern medicine, and air travel. Today's posekim grapple with artificial intelligence, genetic engineering, and digital communication.

The questions change. The Torah does not.

The Mystery of "Di Zahav"

The opening verses of Devarim mention several locations unfamiliar to us. Chazal explain that many of these are not geographical places at all, but subtle references to events in Israel's history. One of the most intriguing is "Di Zahav"—literally, "abundance of gold." There is no known location by that name. The Gemara (Berachot 32a) explains that Moshe was referring to the sin of the Golden Calf. But surprisingly, Moshe was not merely rebuking the Jewish people. He was defending them. Moshe argued before Hashem that the extraordinary wealth given to the Jewish people when they left Egypt contributed to their failure. They possessed enormous riches before they had developed the spiritual maturity to handle them. Their sin remained their responsibility—but the circumstances mattered.

Like a loving advocate, Moshe asked Hashem to judge them with mercy. This remarkable perspective teaches an important lesson: while we are always accountable for our choices, Judaism also recognizes that environment and circumstance influence human behavior.

The Greatest Spiritual Danger

Most people assume Judaism's greatest challenge is persecution. History teaches otherwise. Yes, countless Jews suffered under oppression, expulsions, and inquisitions. But even more Jews were lost through comfort, prosperity, and assimilation.

Moshe understood this long before anyone else. Throughout Sefer Devarim, one warning appears repeatedly: "You will build beautiful houses... your silver and gold will increase... your wealth will multiply... and your heart will become haughty, and you will forget Hashem." (See Devarim Chapter 8.)

The greatest danger was never poverty. It was success without gratitude. Freedom without purpose. Prosperity without spiritual discipline. Di Zahav is not merely a reference to the Golden Calf. It is the central theme of Sefer Devarim.

The Challenge of Our Generation

Never before in Jewish history have so many Jews lived with the freedom and prosperity enjoyed today. Particularly in North America, generations have been blessed with opportunities unimaginable to previous centuries. This is an extraordinary blessing.

Yet blessings also create tests. Comfort can dull urgency. Prosperity can weaken identity. Success can create the illusion that we no longer need Hashem. Moshe's words to the generation entering Israel are remarkably relevant to our own. The challenge is not simply to survive. It is to remain spiritually vibrant while living in a world of unprecedented abundance.

Why Eretz Yisrael Matters

The Book of Devarim is fundamentally a preparation for life in Eretz Yisrael. Almost every major theme revolves around building a Torah society in the Land. The mitzvot are no longer theoretical. They become a blueprint for national life. Living in Israel demands responsibility, gratitude, and constant awareness that our material success is a gift from Hashem. Perhaps that is why so many of the Torah's strongest warnings—and greatest promises—are found in Sefer Devarim.

The Eternal Guardians of Jerusalem

The Radak offers a beautiful insight on the verse describing the guardians of Jerusalem.

Who truly protected Jerusalem throughout the centuries? Not armies. Not walls. Not kings. The Jewish people themselves. Every day, for nearly two thousand years, Jews prayed for Jerusalem. Three times daily in the Amidah. After every meal in Birkat HaMazon. On Tisha B'Av.At weddings. At moments of greatest joy and deepest sorrow.

Generation after generation, Jews refused to forget Jerusalem. Those prayers sustained the dream. And because the dream never died, the Jewish people were able to return home.

Today, we witness something previous generations could only imagine. Jerusalem has been rebuilt. The Land of Israel flourishes. Millions of Jews have returned. The challenge before us is no longer merely to pray for Jerusalem. It is to strengthen it—physically, spiritually, and demographically. That may be the greatest message of Sefer Devarim.

The Torah prepares us not only to enter the Land but to build a society worthy of it. May we merit to use the blessings Hashem has given us—not as distractions from our mission, but as tools to fulfill it—and may we continue to strengthen Jerusalem and the Land of Israel for generations to come.

From Caution to Panic: The Lesson of the Spies (Devarim 5786)

This piece by Rabbi Kenigsberg was first published in Hanassi Highlights, Thursday 16 July 2026. Thanks to AI, you can also read it in Hebrew (click here).

Parshat Devarim retells many of the events recorded earlier in the Torah, yet often with subtle differences. Those differences are not accidental. They invite us to look more deeply and uncover a new dimension of the story.

One striking example is the episode of the spies. In Parshat Shelach, the emphasis falls squarely on the spies themselves and the disastrous report they bring back from the Land of Israel. The narrative already hints that something has gone wrong. Rashi explains that when God says "Shelach lecha" -- "Send for yourself" -- it is not a command but a concession. Moshe Rabbeinu even changes Yehoshua’s name, praying that he be saved from the counsel of the spies.

Yet when Moshe recounts the same events in Parshat Devarim, the focus shifts. He recalls that the people approached him with the request to send spies, and he concludes, "Vayitav be'einai hadavar" ("The matter seemed good in my eyes).

How can these two accounts be reconciled? Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky points to a single word in Rashi that changes the entire perspective. Describing the people's approach to Moshe, Rashi explains that they came be'irbuvya—in confusion and disorder. The young pushed past the old, the old pushed past the tribal leaders. There was no calm discussion, only urgency and panic.

The rebuke, Rav Kamenetsky explains, is not directed merely at the decision to send spies. Sending a reconnaissance mission before entering the Land could have been entirely reasonable. The problem was the atmosphere in which the request was made. Their panic revealed something deeper. They had lost perspective. They forgot where they stood, what God had already done for them, and what He had promised for the future. Their practical efforts no longer flowed from faith; they flowed from fear.

That distinction remains as relevant today as it was then. The Torah encourages responsibility, planning and prudent action. We make thoughtful decisions and prepare for the future. But there is a profound difference between taking sensible precautions and allowing fear to shape our outlook. The former is an expression of wisdom; the latter can gradually erode our sense of purpose and trust.

As we stand on the threshold of Tisha b'Av, we naturally reflect on the great national failures that brought about the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash. Yet the Torah reminds us that, long before the tragedy itself, there was a subtler failure: a nation that momentarily lost confidence in the path God had set before it. The spies were not the beginning of the story. They were the consequence of a people who had already begun to see the future through the lens of fear rather than faith.

Tisha b'Av calls upon us to mourn what was lost,  and also to remember the covenant that was never broken. Even in times of uncertainty, the Jewish people continue to walk forward sustained not only by careful planning but by the enduring confidence that the God who has guided our history in the past continues to guide it still.

Shabbat Shalom!

Shabbat Shuva: Not Just Empty Words

We are reaching the end of Sefer Devarim. This week we read parashat Vayelech and next week Ha’azinu, the last of the weekly Shabbat readings of this book. Looking through Sefer Devarim as a whole, our member Rabbi Steven Ettinger takes a fresh view of the word that gives this Sefer its name.

There is real symmetry to Mishneh Torah, this collection of Moshe’s last words to our people between the beginning and end of this Sefer. The first verse begins with words and the root דבר:

אֵ֣לֶּה הַדְּבָרִ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֨ר דִּבֶּ֤ר מֹשֶׁה֙ אֶל־כׇּל־יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל בְּעֵ֖בֶר הַיַּרְדֵּ֑ן בַּמִּדְבָּ֡ר בָּֽעֲרָבָה֩ מ֨וֹל ס֜וּף בֵּֽין־פָּארָ֧ן וּבֵֽין־תֹּ֛פֶל וְלָבָ֥ן וַחֲצֵרֹ֖ת וְדִ֥י זָהָֽב׃

These are the words that Moses addressed to all Israel on the other side of the Jordan, through the wilderness, in the Aravah near Suph, between Paran and Tophel, Laban, Hatzerot, and Di Zahav.

The Torah marks the conclusion of Ha’aziunu with three unusual and redundant pesukim (Deut. 32:45-47):

וַיְכַ֣ל מֹשֶׁ֗ה לְדַבֵּ֛ר אֶת־כׇּל־הַדְּבָרִ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶּה אֶל־כׇּל־יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

And when Moses finished reciting all these words to all Israel,

 

וַיֹּ֤אמֶר אֲלֵהֶם֙ שִׂ֣ימוּ לְבַבְכֶ֔ם לְכׇ֨ל־הַדְּבָרִ֔ים אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מֵעִ֥יד בָּכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם אֲשֶׁ֤ר תְּצַוֻּם֙ אֶת־בְּנֵיכֶ֔ם לִשְׁמֹ֣ר לַעֲשׂ֔וֹת אֶת־כׇּל־דִּבְרֵ֖י הַתּוֹרָ֥ה הַזֹּֽאת׃

He said to them: Take to heart all the words with which I have warned you this day. Enjoin them upon your children, that they may observe faithfully all the terms of this Teaching.

כִּ֠י לֹא־דָבָ֨ר רֵ֥ק הוּא֙ מִכֶּ֔ם כִּי־ה֖וּא חַיֵּיכֶ֑ם וּבַדָּבָ֣ר הַזֶּ֗ה תַּאֲרִ֤יכוּ יָמִים֙ עַל־הָ֣אֲדָמָ֔ה אֲשֶׁ֨ר אַתֶּ֜ם עֹבְרִ֧ים אֶת־הַיַּרְדֵּ֛ן שָׁ֖מָּה לְרִשְׁתָּֽהּ׃ 

 

For this is not a trifling thing for you: it is your very life; through it you shall long endure on the land that you are to possess upon crossing the Jordan.

 In these three verses Moshe uses the root דבר six times. It is unclear from context if each one refers to the same thing, different things, perhaps to the entire Torah, solely Sefer Devarim, maybe to certain specific admonitions he related that particular day – or to all, or none, of the above. Moreover, there seems to be no major commentary on these verses that provides clarity.

 This week is Shabbat Shuva. Perhaps it should more appropriately have been called Shabbat Teshuva – as it is the Shabbat of the Ten Days of Repentance.  However, it receives its name from the special Haftarah that we read – “Shuva Yisrael” from Hosea 14.

 Most people are familiar with the opening verse:

שׁ֚וּבָה יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל עַ֖ד ה אֱלֹק-ֶ֑יךָ כִּ֥י כָשַׁ֖לְתָּ בַּעֲוֺנֶֽךָ׃

Return, O Israel, to the ETERNAL your God, For you have fallen because of your sin.

However, it is the second verse that perhaps provides a key to understanding the enigmatic words in the verses we quoted and, in turn will reflect back and provide us with a deeper understanding of the teshuva process. The verse reads: 

קְח֤וּ עִמָּכֶם֙ דְּבָרִ֔ים וְשׁ֖וּבוּ אֶל־ה 

Take words with you, and return to God.

What are those words? There is that word “devarim” again.  Is this somehow all connected? Is there an interpretation or unifying theme that can help us understand this within the context of Moshe’s phraseology which may then help us reach a higher teshuva?

Moshe said that the words, the “devarim”, are not a “davar rek,” not empty. Rashi interprets this as follows:
 

There is not one empty (ריק i.e., superfluous) word in the Torah that, if you properly expound it, has not a grant of reward attached to it for doing so. You can know this, for so did our Rabbis say: It states (Genesis 36:22) “And Lotan’s sister was Timna”; (Genesis 36:32)

In other words, there are Jews who contain, have heard, have studied, have learned all, or close to all of the Torah. They are Jews who are “Kol haDevarim” Jews. They bring their bountiful “Devarim” and return to Hashem. It is easy for them; they approach confidently - have little to be concerned about.

 But unfortunately, there are many or our co-religionists who have not only not paid attention to the entire Torah – they have heard, perhaps, only a fraction of it. Maybe only a phrase or two, the equivalent of the words: “And Lotan’s sister was Timna”.  For one, it was reciting one “Shema Yisrael”.  For another, it was answering a single Amen to a mourner’s kaddish when they attended a funeral. For yet another, maybe it was sitting at one’s grandparents’ seder and eating matzah.

If any Jew combines that one word, that one experience, with a step or a thought toward teshuva, then, as we read in the very next pasuk: 

אֶרְפָּא֙ מְשׁ֣וּבָתָ֔ם אֹהֲבֵ֖ם  נְדָבָ֑ה                                                                                                             

I will heal their affliction. I will take them back with love.

Devarim is unique, a Jewish king must write this book and keep it with him at all times. All of the Jews – men women and even infant children – gathered as a nation every seven years to hear it read aloud.   Even today some have the minhag to read the complete sefer on the eve of Hoshana Rabbah. Perhaps it is not solely because of its contents. Instead, maybe it is because its very name reminds us that every single Jew is a davar and not a davar rek. If every Jew can hold on to his or her davar and  bring it to Hashem – it would change the world!

Moshe’s Final Message and the Challenge of Success

 “These Are the Words”: Moshe’s Final Message and the Challenge of Success

 As Sefer Devarim begins, a profound shift in tone, audience, and mission unfolds. The Torah introduces this book with the phrase “אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר מֹשֶׁה” – “These are the words that Moshe spoke.” The Sages note that this introductory phrase marks a break from the style of the previous four books of the Torah, which were relayed directly by God through Moshe. In contrast, Sefer Devarim is Moshe’s own voice – his reflections, his warnings, and his reinterpretations. It is a Torah for a new generation. In this article Rabbi Paul Bloom reveals what it is that Moshe has in mind. 

This fifth book of the Chumash is addressed not to the Israelites who left Egypt, but to their children, a generation born in the wilderness, destined not for wandering but for conquest and settlement. Their challenges are different: not slavery and survival, but sovereignty and success. And Moshe, having led them for forty years, now must begin again—not with new laws, but with new perspective.

The Or HaChaim HaKadosh notes that the word “אֵלֶּה” (“These”) has a gematria of 36, signifying that the entire book of Devarim was spoken by Moshe over the last 36 days of his life, from Rosh Chodesh Shevat to his passing on 7 Adar. In these final weeks, Moshe condenses a lifetime of teaching into a series of powerful addresses, culminating in VeZot HaBerachah, his final blessing to the people.

Hidden Messages in Names: What Is “Di Zahav”?

At the outset of Sefer Devarim, the Torah presents a list of six mysterious place names. Some are familiar, but others are either unknown or symbolic. One such place is “Di Zahav” – literally, “enough gold.”

The name “Di Zahav” appears nowhere else in the Torah, and it does not refer to a real geographic location. What is it, then? Chazal, in Berachot 32a, offer a stunning interpretation: Moshe is not criticizing Bnei Yisrael – he is defending them.

Moshe is subtly alluding to the sin of the Golden Calf (Egel HaZahav), suggesting that part of the blame rests not with the people, but with God Himself. “You gave them too much gold,” Moshe argues. They were like children overwhelmed by sudden wealth. Just as a spoiled child, given too much and too soon, is likely to falter, so too did Bnei Yisrael stumble under the weight of affluence they could not yet handle.

This is a radical idea. Moshe, as a sanegor, a defender, pleads for mercy and understanding. In doing so, he raises a crucial theme that reverberates throughout Sefer Devarim: the spiritual danger of prosperity.

The True Test: Affluence and Forgetting Hashem

While generations of Jews have perished al kiddush Hashem, martyred through persecution and hatred, far more have been lost through comfort, wealth, and cultural assimilation. In Devarim, Moshe warns again and again:

“You will eat and be satisfied… your silver and gold will increase… and your heart will become haughty, and you will forget Hashem your God.” (Devarim 8:10-14)

Affluence brings independence, and independence breeds spiritual amnesia. This is the underlying current of Sefer Devarim. Moshe’s great fear is not Canaanite armies or desert thirst. It is that, once the people have vineyards and villas, they will forget their Source.

The placement of “Di Zahav” at the beginning of the book is Moshe’s coded message : “Success will be your greatest test.” And it remains ours today.

From Theory to Practice: Preparing for Life in the Land

Another major shift in Sefer Devarim is the transition from theoretical halachah to practical mitzvah observance. For 40 years, many commandments – especially those concerning land ownership, agriculture, and social justice – remained abstract. The people had no private property in the wilderness, no fields to tithe, no courts of inheritance.

Now, as they stand on the eastern bank of the Jordan, Moshe begins again: “הוֹאִיל מֹשֶׁה בֵּאֵר אֶת הַתּוֹרָה הַזֹּאת” – “Moshe began to explain this Torah…” (Devarim 1:5). Rashi says this means he explained it in 70 languages but, on another level, he translated Torah into real life. He taught them how to live the Torah not as wanderers, but as a sovereign society.

The Sefas Emes sees in Devarim the beginning of Torah Shebe’al Peh – the Oral Law. While it is still part of the Written Torah, the style and substance of Devarim begin to reflect human articulation and interpretation. This marks the evolution of Torah – from divine dictation to human integration.

Modern Echoes: The American Dream and the Torah Challenge

We live in a time of remarkable affluence. In Western countries – especially in America – Jews enjoy freedoms, wealth, and opportunities unprecedented in our history. We should be deeply grateful for this. But we must also remember: Di Zahav – “too much gold” – is not a blessing without risks.

Comfort can dull conviction. Success can weaken memory. The challenge Moshe foresaw in Devarim is no less real today: How do we hold on to our spiritual identity in a world that gives us everything?

Yom Kippur’s Vidui ends with the double expression: “תִּעִינוּ וְתִּעְתָּנוּ” – “We have strayed and You have let us stray.” Built into our confession is an acknowledgment of environment. We ask Hashem to judge us not only by our choices, but by the context in which they were made, a theme Moshe introduced with Di Zahav.

The Watchmen of Yerushalayim: Who Guards Our Spirit?

The Radak, commenting on a verse in Yeshayahu, offers a poetic insight: Who are the true guardians of Yerushalayim? Not only soldiers, but those who remember it in their daily prayers. Those who cry for its loss and long for its restoration.

Through centuries of exile, the spiritual memory of Yerushalayim, recited in every birkat hamazon, every tefillah, every Tisha b’Av – kept the dream alive. That memory brought us home.Today, as we rebuild Yerushalayim with stone and steel, we must also rebuild it with soul and memory. The walls will stand strong only if the spirit within remains rooted in Torah.

Conclusion: A New Beginning

Sefer Devarim is not a mere repetition; it is a reinvention. Moshe Rabbenu takes the eternal truths of Torah and adapts them for a new generation, a new landscape, a new spiritual battleground.

We are that generation. The affluence of our time is both a blessing and a burden. Moshe’s voice, echoing across millennia, reminds us: Don’t forget. Don’t let the gold distract you. Don’t mistake comfort for purpose.

May we hear Moshe’s words anew. May we rise to the challenge of our own Di Zahav, and live lives of gratitude, commitment, and clarity.

“These are the words…”

Let us listen. Let us remember. Let us build.

Soothing words, sweet nothings: Devarim 5785

The parsha of Devarim traditionally precedes the saddest day of the Jewish calendar, Tisha b’Av. There are many connections between the parsha and the fast, but I feel that the main connection lies perhaps in the word “devarim” itself. It means “words” and, as Rashi points out, the nuance in Hebrew is quite harsh. The words of Moshe in Devarim are stern and reprimanding. They spell out the bitter truth that people are so loath to hear. 

Soothing promises and vague commitments are much more popular and acceptable to the public. However, the rabbis of the Midrash emphasize Solomon’s statement that it is better to hear criticism from a true friend than to flattery and compliments from an enemy.  This precept should always be remembered. The enemy that the Midrash refers to is Bilaam and the friend is Moshe. The flattery of Bilaam led eventually to thousands of Jewish deaths, while those of Moshe have preserved the Jewish people for countless generations. And this is the connection of Tisha b’Av to the parsha and the word “devarim.” 

The prophets of Israel (Yeshayahu, Yirmiyahu, Amos and Hoshea, among others) all spoke harsh words to Israel and warned of their impending tragedy. The false prophets who are always to be found in our midst retorted with soothing words and lies that were sweet to the ears of the public. This made the destruction of the Temple and Jewish sovereignty inevitable. We always prefer sweet lies over painful truths.  

The haftorah of Shabbat Devarim is always the first chapter of Yeshayahu, which begins with the Hebrew word “chazon.” Indeed, the Shabbat preceding Tisha b’Av is known as Shabbat Chazon. Why? Because “chazon” means vision, prophecy. Vision can be positive or otherwise. A madman has a vision of world domination and the extermination of other human beings. A righteous person has a vision of a better, more peaceful, moral society. The great Chasidic masters stated that we are judged in heaven not only on what we accomplished or omitted to do, but on the visions and goals that motivated us in this world. 

Though “chazon” may often indicate a negative or sad prophecy, the word itself is a neutral one. One can choose whatever vision one wishes to choose.  Yeshayahu therefore chooses the word “chazon” to begin his book of prophecy. What is the vision of the Jewish people? What kind of a nation do they wish to be? This choice is specific and pertinent to individual human beings as well. Hearing the words of Moshe and of Devarim can be of immense help to us in deciding what our “chazon”—both national and individual—should be.  

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

For "Impossible Demands", Rabbi Wein's devar Torah for parashat Devarim/Chazon last year, click here.

Words Speak Louder Than Actions

From the moment God called to him from the Burning Bush, the life of Moshe Rabbenu was a counterpoint, a fugue composed of words and deeds. In this perceptive piece, Rabbi Steven Ettinger shows exactly how this is so.

Perhaps the five most ironic words of the Torah are those that open the Book of Devarim: אֵ֣לֶּה הַדְּבָרִ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֨ר דִּבֶּ֤ר מֹשֶׁה֙ (“These are the words that Moshe spoke”).  Of the five books of the Torah, nearly one complete book is comprised the orations of Moshe – his spoken words to the gathered nation. This is the same man who tried to refuse the Divine mission to lead the Jews out of Egypt by claiming: לֹא֩ אִ֨ישׁ דְּבָרִ֜ים אָנֹ֗כִי גַּ֤ם מִתְּמוֹל֙ גַּ֣ם מִשִּׁלְשֹׁ֔ם גַּ֛ם מֵאָ֥ז דַּבֶּרְךָ֖ אֶל־עַבְדֶּ֑ךָ כִּ֧י כְבַד־פֶּ֛ה וּכְבַ֥ד לָשׁ֖וֹן אָנֹֽכִי׃ (“I am not a man of words, not today or yesterday or from whenever you have spoken to your servant as I am slow of mouth and slow of tongue”).

We can add other elements of irony as we consider this phrase and its bold association of words and speech with Moshe:

1. We view Moshe as the instrument of our salvation from Egypt. He was the miracle worker.  He spoke with Pharaoh and confronted him time after time (another irony – the man who had hard speech כְבַד־פֶּ֛ה confronted the man with the hard heart כְבַד־לב). Yet, on the one night throughout the ages that we experience and commemorate the Exodus, we only mention Moshe once and proclaim: וַיּוֹצִאֵנו ה מִמִּצְרַיִם. לֹא עַל־יְדֵי מַלְאָךְ, וְלֹא עַל־יְדֵי שָׂרָף, וְלֹא עַל־יְדֵי שָׁלִיחַ, אֶלָּא הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא בִּכְבוֹדוֹ וּבְעַצְמוֹ  (“and He took us out of Egypt, not with an angel, and not with an intermediary, but HKB”H Himself”).

2. Moshe is renowned as the one who presented our people with the tablets – twice in fact (A relief portrait of Moshe is on display the chamber of the US Congress as he is celebrated as the one who brought down the law that underlies the American system of government).  The first set was fashioned by Hashem, which Moshe broke during the “chet ha’egel” but it was the second set that Moshe carved himself that endured. The luchot are inscribed with the iconic “aseret hadibrot,” the Ten Commandments. However, the Torah never uses this phrase, they are never referred to as “dibrot.” Instead, as stated in Ex. 20:1: וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר אֱלֹקים אֵ֛ת כׇּל־הַדְּבָרִ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶּה לֵאמֹֽר. They, are דְּבָרִ֥ים -- words spoken by Hashem but NOT spoken by Moshe! Thus, as with the Exodus itself, Moshe is seemingly placed on the side.

3. Moshe did, in fact, employ his oratory skills one time on behalf of the Jewish People to stave off their destruction – after they sinned with the Golden Calf. However, at perhaps an equally crucial juncture, he remained silent and did not speak. The spies returned with their unfavorable report and the Jewish nation accepted it and despaired. This resulted in the horrific punishment of the deaths of the entire generation over the next forty years. Calev and Yehoshua give an impassioned plea to convince the people to go and inherit the land. The Torah tells us that Moshe, however, remained silent and that all he did was: וַיִּפֹּ֥ל מֹשֶׁ֛ה וְאַהֲרֹ֖ן עַל־פְּנֵיהֶ֑ם לִפְנֵ֕י כׇּל־קְהַ֥ל עֲדַ֖ת בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃, he (and Aaron) merely conceded, they fell to their faces before the masses.

How is it that, as we have explained, three books of the Torah seem to relegate Moshe to a secondary role, yet the fifth book provides him with a “soapbox” to recast the narrative (and many of the laws) to such an extent that that it is described as Mishneh Torah – a second  or re-telling of the Torah? But this time it is all in Moshe’s “words” and they are entirely from his perspective.

So why is it that the prime/original version in many ways is so different from the one in Devarim? Perhaps the key to the answer is in those same “ironic” opening words, the very fact that Moshe is now speaking words. Despite that fact that Moshe previously protested his role and denied the mantle of responsibility, he is now performing the task that Hashem demanded of him. Until he accepted it, he was, in a sense, suppressed.

Let us quickly contrast his past and present. At the Exodus he did not want to be a man of words, he preferred to act (as when he killed the Egyptian), so he was excluded from the Haggadah. At Sinai, after forty days, he acted – he destroyed the tablets and then he physically fashioned the second set as a remedy – so he is disassociated from the spoken element – the “aseret devarim.” He is successful in saving Am Yisrael from the sin of the Golden Calf when he uses words, but he does not save them from the sin of the spies when he falls down and does not use his words. Finally, and perhaps the ultimate proof in this pattern – he receives his drastic punishment when he takes an action and hits the rock instead of using his words and speaking to it.

This final chastisement is Hashem telling Moshe that this punishment is fair because it represents the cumulative result of all his past failures. Ironically, as the time comes for Am Yisrael to cross over into Eretz Yisrael they now require a leader who is a man of action – Yehoshua. He led the army to battle against Amalek, he tried to encourage the people to rise and go into the land despite the report of the spies, he would battle against the nations of Canaan.

Moshe was our greatest leader, our greatest teacher and our greatest prophet. When he understood that his task was to influence Am Yisrael then and for all future generations with his words, he was given the opportunity to speak and to set out his version and vision of the Torah – of a society of Torah, of a life of Torah and of a future of Torah. These are his words – of course not simply through his mouth but, “al pi Hashem!”

Impossible demands?: Devarim and Shabbat Chazon 5784

The nine days of mourning for Jerusalem’s fall and the destruction of the Temples are upon us. This Shabbat, which always precedes Tisha b’Av, takes its name from the haftorah of the prophet Yeshayahu which we read this week in the synagogue. The words of the prophet condemn the social ills of his time and the society in which he lived: governmental corruption, unequal distribution of wealth and a lack of legal and social justice. But these are the same problems that have plagued all human society since time immemorial—and they are ever-present today. 

A first glance, one could conclude that the prophet is making impossible demands, since human behavior and social interaction can never eliminate these issues fully. However, as we well know, the Torah never demands the impossible of its human adherents. So what is the point of the prophet’s criticisms and harsh judgments? What is it that he really demands from us fallible mortals? 

I believe that what Yeshayahu demands of us is that we at least realize and recognize that these shortcomings are part of our reality. We may not be able to correct them all completely, but we should still know that they exist. We should never allow apathy the ability to overwhelm our better instincts or to arrest our never-ending quest for an improved social structure. 

The prophet demands that we remain relentless in trying to improve the social conditions of the world we live in, even if we know at the outset that complete success is beyond our human capabilities. By accepting our societal deficiencies without a murmur of regret or complaint we become complicit in our own eventual destruction. 

The Chafetz Chaim is reputed to have said that what motivated him to write his monumental work about the evils of slander and evil speech was that he noticed that people who had engaged in such speech no longer exuded a sigh of regret over their words. Evil speech had become socially acceptable: there was no sense of shame or embarrassment about engaging in such behavior. 

Shame is a great weapon for good. When it disappears from society, when brazen self-interest and greed become the norm, the prophet warns us of impending doom. Disgraced politicians openly vie again for public office as though serving one’s time in jail or being forced to resign from public office permanently wipes their slate clean. A society that knows no shame, whose leaders never recognize the moral turpitude of their behavior, dooms itself to the ills of favoritism, corruption and unfairness that will plague its existence. The prophet demands of us that, even if we are unable to correct all ills and right all wrongs, we should at least be ashamed that such ills and wrongs exist within our society. 

That recognition, and the sense of shame that accompanies it, serve as the bases for possible necessary improvement in social attitudes and societal behavior. Then the prophet’s optimistic prediction, “Zion shall be redeemed through justice and those who return to it will also find redemption through righteousness,“ might yet be fulfilled.

 Shabbat shalom,  

Rabbi Berel Wein