ACQUISITION AND AFFIRMATION: PARSHAT KI TAVO

Shira Smiles shiur 2016/5776

Summary by Channie Koplowitz Stein

 

            Having led Bnei Yisroel through the desert for forty years, Moshe is now in the midst of giving them his final teachings. He presents an overview of many of the miracles that Hashem has done for them, but says, that “Hashem did not give you a heart to know or eyes to see or ears to hear until this day.” The questions rise up: Did Hashem refuse to give them the ability to understand what these miracles meant to His relationship to Bnei Yisroel? What was different on this day that changed the dynamic in place until now?

            Rashi cites a medrash that explains what happened on that day. Moshe took the Kohanim and gave them the written copy of the Torah. After all, they would be the leaders and teachers of Bnei Yisroel. At this, Bnei Yisroel were upset. They complained that at some time in the future the Leviim would say that the Torah belonged exclusively to them, denying the other tribes a right to the Torah. Bnei Yisroel asserted that they too had stood at Sinai, and the Torah belonged equally to them. This reaction from Bnei Yisroel elated Moshe, for he saw that now, finally, Bnei Yisroel was claiming ownership of the Torah and desiring a relationship with Hakodosh Boruch Hu.

            While all the commentators agree that Hashem did not withhold the ability to “know, see and hear,” each has a different perspective. Rashi, for example, as cited by Taam Vodaath, maintains that Bnei Yisroel was so overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of Hashem’s kindnesses that they started taking it all as a matter of course without realizing the extent of the kindness and therefore not taking the time to thank Hashem. Rav Hirsch adds that while so many miracles were being done for Bnei Yisroel, they did not understand and were not grateful until the cumulative effect hit them on this day. On the other hand, Rabbi Frand points out that although all of Bnei Yisroel had excitedly accepted the Torah at Sinai, that experience was accompanied by much fanfare. “This day” was just an ordinary day. Without any hoopla, Bnei Yisroel indicated that they still wanted a full stake in the Torah, that they did not want the Levites to claim, some time in the future, that the Torah is their exclusive domain. This insistence on this ordinary day reassured Moshe that the Jewish people would always be Hashem’s people.

            Rabbi Moshe Feinstein takes this idea one step further. He says that no one would have denied Bnei Yisroel a stake in Torah, but what Bnei Yisroel were insisting was that although they would be working the land in contrast to the Leviim who did not receive a portion of the land, they still wanted to toil in Torah and be able to become teachers, leaders and even prophets. Moshe’s concern had been that  if everyone claimed a stake in Torah, each would interpret it at he saw fit, not consulting with proper Torah authorities. (Indeed, the was the problem during the era of the Judges, when there was a leadership vacuum with no king or Torah authority, when each individual did as he saw fit and correct in his own eyes. CKS) In today’s vernacular, perhaps we rely on Rabbi Google to be our decisor instead of consulting with our local Orthodox rabbi. Rabbi Google, in spite of its vast knowledge, lacks the power to interpret the necessary nuances of Torah. But Bnei Yisroel’s insistence on wanting to dedicate themselves to Torah learning and expertise elated Moshe. Their insistence proved to Moshe that they were interested in maintaining knowledge and dedication to Torah not only for themselves but especially for future generations, adds Rabbi Wachtfogel.

            Rabbi Beyfus in Yalkut Lekach Tov adds another dimension to our discussion. It might seem from a cursory reading of Rashi that Hashem had actually blocked the heart, eyes and ears of Bnei Yisroel from cleaving to God until this day. On the contrary, notes Rabbi Beyfus. It is a well established precept that only when one toils will one be successful. While the final result is indeed up to Hashem, Hashem will grant success only when He sees that one is putting in his own effort. While this is true in material endeavors, it is even more true in spiritual pursuits. From the moment Hashem gave the Torah until this day, all Bnei Yisroel had, including their relationship with God, had been a gift. This was the first time they took the initiative and indicated their desire for the Torah. In response, Hashem opened their hearts, eyes and ears to a more intense relationship with Torah and with Him.

            The human will is the strongest power on earth. With it, one can achieve the seemingly impossible, and without it, nothing is possible, writes Rabbi Friefeld. Rabbi Friefeld cites the Medrash of Rabbi Chaninah ben Dosa who, although poor, wanted to bring his contribution toward the building of the Beit Hamikdosh as so many others were doing. But he was too poor to bring any of these gifts. Walking in the forest, he found a large stone. With his own hands, he chiseled it and polished it until it was beautiful enough to bring to Jerusalem. Now, however, he couldn’t afford to hire laborers to transport the stone. Finally, five laborers agreed to move the stone for a small sum, provided Rabbi Chaninah himself would help with the labor. Miraculously, the stone was transported to Jerusalem, and then the laborers disappeared. When the will combined with the effort is strong enough, Hashem Himself sends angels to help in the spiritual task.

            Here Rabbi Friefeld adds an amazing insight from the Gerrer Rebbe. When a situation becomes extremely difficult, we are wont to proclaim, “On whom shall we rely? Only on our Father in heaven.” While this seems to be a declaration of faith, notes Rabbi Friefeld, it is also a declaration of despair, of our inability to do anything on our own. It becomes the basis for excuses, rendering us powerless. We fail because we have discounted the power of our will and have despaired of success.

            Part of being successful is creating a vision of the larger picture, writes Rabbi Chaim Friedlander, the Sifsei Chaim. This is especially true in the moth of Elul when we are trying to do teshuvah. While all the small steps and improvements in our mitzvah performance are commendable, we must not lose sight of the larger picture, that all this is meant to bring us closer to Hakodosh Boruch Hu. Otherwise, each step remains an empty and rote practice.

            Along these lines, Rabbi Yosef ben Amram in Be’er Hatorah notes that Moshe seems to be using a mixed metaphor here. While eyes do indeed see and ears do hear, is it truly the heart that knows? Rashi adds here that the purpose is to cling to Hashem. Certainly Bnei Yisroel knew intellectually all that Hashem had done for them, but they hadn’t internalized it into their hearts - “Vahashevota el levovecha.” Until this day, notes Rabbi Ben Amram, they had failed to add an emotional component to their intellectual knowledge. Without the emotional component, Torah and mitzvoth become stale; with the emotional component, each day the mitzvoth retain their freshness. When Bnei Yisroel opened their hearts to know, Hashem could then fill it. Then Hashem will grant you the intense experience explains Lashon Chasidim.

            This idea is especially important now as we approach Rosh Hashanah, writes Rabbi Frieman in Shaarei Derech. We must make the teshuvah process personal and relevant, for nobody else can arouse us if we do not do so ourselves. He cites the analogy from Bereishis Rabba. A chicken in a coop may pick up all kinds of dirt from the floor. If you or anyone else tries to clean the dirt off the chicken’s feathers, you will never succeed. But if the chicken himself flutters and shakes his wings, all the dirt will fall off. What is demanded of us is our own initiative. Otherwise you’re just going through irrelevant motions that bring you nowhere.

            The question now becomes how can we motivate ourselves? The first step seems obvious but is so often overlooked. Recognize and admit that there is a problem. The problem may very well be not so much in the exact details of the mitzvoth with performance done meticulously, but with the investment of emotion and self int the mitzvoth. One can be metaphorically face to face with Hashem in mitzvah performance, notes Rabbi Imanuel Bernstein citing the Baal Hatanya, and still be very distant from Hashem and not establish an emotional relationship with Him.

            Our task in the month of Elul (and indeed throughout the year) is to have a desire for a relationship with Hakodosh Boruch Hu, even if it begins with simple lip service, writes Rabbi Brazile in Breshaarei Hamoadim, citing the Sefas Emes. If we have the will, the ratzon, we create the tzinor, the pipeline for Hashem to open our hearts, eyes and ears to solidify the relationship. The idea is to concentrate on the present, on hayom, writes Rabbi Schechter in In All Your Ways. Worrying about the past or about the future in unproductive. Only by focusing on what is right for the present can we fill each day with the proper content and bring ourselves to open our hearts, eyes and ears to bring us closer to Hakodosh Boruch Hu. Notice the wake up calls Hashem sends us constantly, heed them, and let them awaken our desire for His presence in our lives through the gift of His Torah.