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S.A.L.T. – PARASHAT VAETCHANAN
By Rav David Silverberg
Motzaei Shabbat
Parashat Vaetchanan includes the first paragraph of the daily
shema recitation, in which we are commanded, “These matters which I
command you today shall be upon your hearts” (6:6).
The Kotzker Rebbe noted that we are instructed to ensure that the words
of Torah are “upon” our hearts,” rather than “in” our hearts. Intuitively, we would have expected
Moshe to command in this verse that we fully absorb the Torah’s contents, to
ensure that it penetrates the inner recesses of our beings so it animates
everything we say and do. And
yet, the command here is merely to place Torah “upon” our hearts, rather than
working to ensure its complete absorption “within” our hearts.
The Kotzker Rebbe explained that people’s hearts are not always open and
receptive to the words of the Torah.
We are, by nature, stubborn and inflexible, resistant to ideas that challenge
our preconceived, long-held notions.
The Torah cannot expect us to absorb its message into the depths of our hearts
on a daily basis. What it does
demand, the Rebbe said, is that we regularly expose ourselves to its teachings
so that it sits and waits “upon” our hearts.
And then, when our hearts open, whenever this happens, those teachings
will enter. Even if we are not yet
ready to absorb and internalize a certain Torah concept, we must nevertheless
learn and contemplate it, so that when our hearts are ready it will “sink in.”
This insight of the Kotzker Rebbe should perhaps serve as a call for
pragmatism in the process of education and in our own religious growth. We cannot expect immediate results. Change takes time; the material must
sometimes remain “upon our hearts” for a long while before it is finally given
the chance to enter and have an effect.
Our job in teaching our children, and in developing our own characters,
is to place the Torah’s laws and values “upon” the heart and trust in its
ability to eventually be absorbed.
In today’s day and age, we are accustomed to seeing instant results, to
pressing a button or clicking on a link and immediately receiving what we are
looking for. In this sense, the
tasks of educating children and developing ourselves are more intimidating and
potentially frustrating that in previous generations, when people were likely
more accustomed to waiting for results and thus may have had more patience for
long, drawn-out processes. We must
remember that spiritual growth takes time and requires patience. The Torah we teach and learn will
generally not yield its full effect immediately.
Parents and teachers must not despair if they sense that their work is
not having its desired effect on the child; the results of education can take
many years to become visible. As
Moshe instructs in the next verse, “You shall teach them to your children and
speak of them when you reside at home, when you embark on a journey, when you
lie and when you arise.” Our job is
to patiently continue our diligent, day-to-day work of learning and teaching,
and trust that these efforts will bear fruit in due time. As long as we continuously ensure
that the words of Torah are “upon” our hearts, we can rest assured that the time
will come when they make their way “in” our hearts.
Sunday
Parashat Vaetchanan begins with Moshe’s emotional prayer entreating God
to allow him to cross the
A
number of
Acharonim
cited the Gemara’s comment as possible proof against the famous view of the
Ramban, in his critique of the Rambam’s
Sefer
Ha-mitzvot
(and in his Torah commentary, Bamidbar 33:53), that there is a Biblical
obligation to live in
Eretz Yisrael. The Ramban
notes and objects to the Rambam’s omission of this
mitzva
from his listing of the 613 Biblical commands, arguing that the Torah introduces
such an obligation in Parashat Masei – “you shall possess the land and reside
therein.” However, according to the
Ramban, it seems difficult to understand the Gemara’s question of why Moshe
pined to enter the
The
simplest answer, perhaps, is that Moshe did not have to cross the Jordan River
to fulfill the mitzva
of yishuv Eretz Yisrael. The Meshekh Chokhma (Parashat
Re’ei) writes that this mitzva was fulfilled even by residing east of the
Jordan River, in the territory of Sichon and Og, which
Benei Yisrael captured and
which was then settled by Reuven, Gad and part of Menashe. It is inconceivable, the Meshekh
Chokhma writes, that the members of these tribes never fulfilled the
mitzva of yishuv Eretz Yisrael because they resided across the
river. If this territory was
assigned as their permanent place of residence, then undoubtedly it is
considered part of the
For proof to the Meshekh Chokhma’s
contention, one needs to look no further than to the Ramban himself. In his commentary to Parashat Matot
(31:23), the Ramban, surprisingly, writes that the battles which
Benei Yisrael waged against the
kingdoms of Sichon and Og were formally considered
kibbush ha-aretz – battles waged for the purpose of possessing Eretz Yisrael. The Ramban advances this claim to
explain why the kitchen utensils seized from these kingdoms were allowed to be
used even without “kashering,” even though the Emorites had used them for
non-kosher food. The Canaanite
peoples’ food was permissible for consumption during the battles of kibbush
ha-aretz (as the Gemara in Chulin 17a infers from a verse in Parashat
Vaetchanan – 6:11), and therefore the utensils from the kingdoms of Sichon and
Og were likewise permissible for use.
Clearly, then, according to the Ramban, the lands of Sichon and Og were
considered part of Eretz Yisrael, and thus Moshe fulfilled the mitzva
of yishuv Eretz Yisrael even
without crossing the Jordan River.
Another
theory that has been proposed to reconcile the Gemara’s comment with the
Ramban’s position is that the tribe of Levi was not included in the mitzva of yishuv
Eretz Yisrael. The Chemdat
Yisrael (by Rav Meir Dan Platzky, author of Keli Chemda) claims that
as the Levite tribe did not receive an actual portion of land in Eretz
Yisrael, they were excluded from the mitzva of yishuv ha-aretz. Moshe, as a member of this tribe, was
thus not bound by this mitzva,
and for this reason the Gemara wonders why he longed to live in the
Several
other writers, however, dismissed such a notion.
In his critique to the Rambam’s
Sefer
Ha-mitzvot, the Ramban draws proof to his position from a story told in the Sifrei of a group of
sages that began traveling outside Eretz Yisrael, until they recalled the obligation to
live in the land and pined for
Eretz Yisrael. One of these sages was
Chananya, Rabbi Yehoshua’s nephew, and the Gemara in Masekhet Berakhot (63b)
relates a story in which Chananya foresees the time when he will play music in
the Beit Ha-mikdash – clearly indicating that he was a
Levi. If the Ramban points to Chananya’s
pining for Eretz Yisrael as
proof to the fact that there is a
mitzva to reside in the land, then clearly he felt that this obligation applies
even to members of the tribe of Levi.
(This point was made by the work
Chasdei Avot, cited in Rav
Chayim Dov Eisenstein’s Peninim
Mi-bei Midresha, Parashat
Vaetchanan.)
Monday
We read
in Parashat Vaetchanan the first paragraph of the daily
shema recitation, in which we are commanded, “You shall love
the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your
might” (6:5).
Rashi
cites different interpretations to these commands from the
Sifrei, and it appears that – at least according to the some
interpretations – the Torah here refers to the need to overcome the three main
obstacles to religious observance: innate human tendencies, practical hardship,
and theological struggle.
According to one view, the requirement to love the Almighty “with all your
heart” means serving Him “with both your inclinations.” The Torah here warns that our
religious commitment must not be compartmentalized. We cannot serve God only when His
demands jive with our natural inclinations.
Serving God with “both inclinations” means remaining loyal to His
commands even when we feel inclined to act differently, when this requires
exercising restraint and subduing our natural impulses. One who serves God with only his “yetzer tov” (“good inclination”) observes the Torah when he is “in the mood,” when he
naturally feels so inclined, but not when his heart desires something else. Loving God “with all your heart” thus
refers to a consistent commitment that does not depend upon one’s natural
feelings and inclinations at any given moment.
Commenting on the obligation to serve “with all your soul,” Rashi cites a view
that this means remaining devoted to God “even if He takes your soul.” In the narrow sense, of course, this
refers to those occasions when a Jew is called upon to make the ultimate
sacrifice – surrendering his life – for his faith (as Rabbi Akiva famously
remarked to his students as he was tortured and executed by the Romans). More generally, however, “with all
your soul” may refer to accepting the physical and logistical challenges of
avodat Hashem. Torah observance imposes numerous
demands upon one’s time, money, and physical energy. Loving the Almighty “with all your
soul” might mean lovingly accepting and enduring these sacrifices much as
parents happily expend time, energy and money while raising their children. We are to remain unwaveringly devoted
to God even when “He takes your soul,” even when His commands impose upon us a
degree of pressure and inconvenience.
Finally, the command of “be-khol me’odekha” (commonly translated
as “with all your might”) is understood (according to one view) to mean, “with
whatever measure He allocates to you – whether goodness or calamity.” In other words, we must remain
devoted regardless of our fate. We
do not “give up” on God when we do not receive what we want, when He does not
provide for us all that we desire.
As the Torah commands later in Parashat Vaetchanan (“lo tenasu et Hashem
Elokeikhem” – 6:16), we cannot hinge our compliance with God demands
on His compliance with our demands.
For that matter, we are not entitled to make any demands of Him; we serve Him
“with whatever measure He allocates,” irrespective of what He does or does not
do.
The defining characteristic of religious commitment is consistency –
serving the Almighty no matter how we feel, no matter what it entails, and no
matter how He treats us.
Tuesday
The
Chatam Sofer,
in one of his responsa (O.C. 157), relates that exactly two hundred years ago,
on Tisha B’Av in the year 5571 (1811), he unfortunately took ill and had to
drink during the fast. He wondered
at the time what he should do if, at the
minyan
that was held in his home, he would be called for an
aliya
to the Torah during the Torah reading at mincha. Would he be allowed to receive an
aliya,
or was he disqualified from reciting the berakhot over the Torah reading
since he was not observing the fast?
The
Chatam Sofer
ruled that without question, he would be allowed to receive an
aliya. He explains his position by noting
that generally, there is no clear basis for disqualifying a person who is not
fasting from receiving an
aliya
to the Torah on a fast day. The only
source for such a notion, he writes, is a responsum of the Maharik (9) cited by
the
Bet Yosef (O.C. 566), concerning the custom to observe three fasts (“beha”b”) after Pesach. The Maharik wrote that it was
customary on these communal fasts not to give the first aliya to a kohen who was not fasting, and if the only
kohen or kohanim present
were not fasting, they were asked to leave the synagogue so that the
aliya could be given to somebody who observed the fast. The
Bet Yosef understood from this responsum that according to the Maharik,
somebody who is not participating in a fast may not receive an aliya for
the fast day Torah reading.
Accordingly, the Bet Yosef
writes in the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 566:6) that there is an opinion
disqualifying somebody who does not fast from receiving an
aliya on a public fast day.
As the
Chatam Sofer notes, however, the Maharik in that same passage writes that
technically speaking, a kohen could exercise his right to insist on
receiving the first aliya
despite not participating in the fast, even if, in practice, the kohanim
were bound by the community’s established practice. This comment appears to indicate that
to the contrary, a person may receive an aliya on a fast day even
if he does not participate in the fast.
The Chatam Sofer speculates that the Bet Yosef understood
the Maharik to mean that a kohen who is not observing the beha”b
fast may, in principle, insist that the congregation read the standard weekly
portion, as opposed to the special fast day reading, so he could receive an aliya. According to this understanding, it
would emerge that a person who does not fast may not receive an aliya to the Torah for the special fast day
reading, and the Maharik referred only to the case of the voluntary
beha”b fast, where the communal observance of the fast results in a different
Torah reading.
In any event, the
Chatam Sofer argues that even according to the
Bet Yosef’s understanding, this ruling applies only to fasts that communities accept
upon themselves- like beha”b – but not to
the fixed fast days, such as Tisha B’Av.
For one thing, he explains, if a person is ill and therefore eats on
Tisha B’Av, he still participates in the observance. He remains bound by the day’s other
restrictions, and even with regard to eating and drinking, he eats and drinks
only as needed, but fundamentally, he participates in the fast. Therefore, such a person may receive
an aliya. The Chatam Sofer also
gives another reason for why somebody who does not fast on one of the fixed fast
days may nevertheless receive an aliya.
He explains that in the case of a fast initiated by a community, the
Torah reading obligation stems solely from the fast observance, and therefore,
according to the Bet Yosef, one cannot participate in the Torah reading
if he does not participate in the fast.
On the fixed fast days, however, Chazal ordained that the Torah be
read on those occasions, independent of the fast observance. It is not only the fast that
generates the obligation to read the Torah, but also the day itself. Therefore, even if a person does not
fast, he may receive an aliya on one of the fixed fast days, even
according to the Bet Yosef.
In any event,
as mentioned, the Shulchan Arukh cites the ruling of the Maharik (as he understood it) that one who does not
fast should not receive an aliya on a fast day. The
Mishna Berura (566:20-21) concludes that the final halakha
depends upon the particular circumstance.
Although a person who is not fasting should not receive an aliya,
if he nevertheless is called to the Torah, he may go for the aliya if
this occurred during shacharit and the fast day falls on a Monday or
Thursday, when in any event the Torah must be read. Since there is an obligation of Torah
reading independent of the fast, he may accept the aliya. On other occasions, however, such as
at mincha and even at shacharit on other days of the week, a person who
does not fast should not accept an
aliya under any circumstances. Some authorities go so far as to say
that a distinguished figure – such as the community rabbi – who generally
receives an aliya should not attend the synagogue on a fast day if he cannot fast, so that he
will not be called to the Torah (see Piskei Teshuvot, 566:7).
Wednesday
In Parashat Vaetchanan, Moshe expresses his concern that after living in
Eretz Yisrael for several generations, the people might abandon their
faith and embrace paganism: “When you beget children and grandchildren and grow old in the land, and you will
become depraved and make for yourselves statues, any kind of image… I call the
heavens and earth as witnesses that you will quickly be banished from the land…”
(4:25-26).
The word used by the Torah to describe the process of Benei Yisrael “growing old in the land” is “noshantem,” from the root y.sh.n.
Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch observes the distinction between this term
and the other term commonly used in reference to advanced age –
z.k.n.
The latter, Rav Hirsch explains, is the opposite of “young,” whereas
y.sh.n. signifies the opposite of “new” or “fresh.” Moshe describes here not the passage
of a long period of time per se, but rather the loss of “freshness” and
enthusiasm. Rav Hirsch writes:
Only when the
nation will have had two or three generations behind it born in the land will
its inhabitants consider themselves as “natives,” originated from the land; the
time when they had no home, no land belonging to them, will have passed from
their minds and they will entirely have forgotten their origin and Whom they
have to thank for the land and for their being permitted to remain in it.
With time, we are prone to grow too
accustomed to our reality of living as a sovereign nation, and to forget how God
miraculously got us there. We will
thus lose our sense of indebtedness and obligation to the Almighty. Rav Hirsch concludes:
In our
individual and national relation to God we have no greater enemy than the change
of our fresh “youthful” enthusiasm of the consciousness of belonging to God to
the worn out blasé condition of “having grown old in the
Rav Moshe Sternbuch, in his Ta’am Va-da’at, suggested that “noshantem” might refer to a different kind of
“growing old,” namely, the sense that old traditions are outdated and arcane. Moshe feared that after several
generations, Benei Yisrael might grow restless and seek a new kind
of worship. The danger of “noshantem” relates to not only the loss of vigor and enthusiasm, but also the
perception of Torah as old-fashioned, archaic, a relic of an ancient past that
has since given way to new, progressive ideas.
When this attitude sets in, it is only natural for people to “make
for yourselves statues, any kind of image” – to embrace fresh, newfangled
doctrines and beliefs that run contrary to our ancient Torah tradition.
Thursday
In Parashat Vaetchanan Moshe recalls the events of Ma’amad Har Sinai
and reiterates the Ten Commandments which God pronounced to the people at that
time. The third commandment is “lo tisa,” which forbids “bearing God’s Name in vain.”
Rav
Moshe Sternbuch, in his Ta’am Va-da’at, notes that the concept of
“bearing God’s Name in vain” extends beyond the specific prohibition against
purposeless utterances of the divine Name.
It applies also to people who “bear” a false outward appearance of piety. If somebody asks to be respected as a
righteous sage when he is undeserving of such honor, or tries to present a
persona of spiritual greatness that does not accurately reflect who he is, then
he “bears God’s Name in vain,” he defiles the Name of God by falsely claiming to
represent Him. He is akin to an
ordinary citizen who wears a badge of the king’s elite guard, falsely presenting
himself as a member of the king’s inner circle.
The prohibition against using the divine Name for falsehood or vanity
refers as well to using the divine Name to bolster one’s reputation and social
standing.
Rav
Sternbuch cites as a source for this theory a comment by the Ba’al Ha-turim who notes that
the word immediately preceding the third commandment is “mitzvotai” (“My commands”). The Ba’al Ha-turim comments
that this juxtaposition may allude to the fact that it is possible to “bear
God’s Name in vain” even in the context of mitzva observance, if
one performs a mitzva insincerely, to further his personal interests, rather than to serve the
Almighty. “Using” a
mitzva for one’s personal goals, the Ba’al Ha-turim writes,
resembles the use of God’s Name for naught.
If we perform mitzvot for the wrong reasons, then we desecrate
them, just as one who uses God’s Name for the wrong reasons desecrates the
sacred Name of God.
Friday
In Parashat Vaetchanan, Moshe recalls how after
Matan Torah, in response to the
people’s request not to hear all the
mitzvot directly from God, Moshe was summoned to the top of mountain and
taught the commandments. God
instructed him to relay the information to
Benei Yisrael “in order that you shall fear the Lord your God, to
observe all His statutes and commandments…all the days of your life” (6:2).
On the surface, this verse is simply one of numerous exhortations to Benei Yisrael in Sefer Devarim to strictly observe the
mitzvot after they cross the
Jordan River into Eretz Yisrael.
Many other verses can be found throughout this
sefer (particularly in Vaetchanan and Eikev)
that resemble Moshe’s admonition here in this verse. The
Meshekh Chokhma, however, offers a
novel insight into this verse to uncover the unique message that it seeks to
convey. Often, the Meshekh
Chokhma observes, the verb sh.m.r. (“observe”) refers not simply to
mitzva observance per se, but rather to establishing safeguards to
protect against Torah violations.
Chazal, of course, instituted countless measures to help ensure our
compliance with the Torah’s dictates, and individually, as well, we are
encouraged to use common sense and sound judgment to avoid potential spiritual
pitfalls. The Meshekh Chokhma suggests that when Moshe here exhorts us
“li-shmor et kol chukotav
u-mitzvotav” (literally, “to
observe all His statutes and commandments”), he refers to the implementation of
safeguards, taking appropriate, reasonable precautions to avoid sin.
And for
this reason, the Meshekh
Chokhma,
Moshe makes a point of emphasizing that this is necessary “kol yemei chayekha”
– “all the days of your life.”
Intuitively, we might have assumed that at a certain point, we can lower our
level of caution and alertness and no longer require safeguards. The
Meshekh
Chokhma
notes in particular the onset of old age, at which point people are not as
restless and are therefore less prone to temptation, which might mislead some
into thinking that at this stage, spiritual caution is unnecessary. Moshe therefore stresses that we must
remain cautious and vigilant in our Torah observance “kol yemei chayekha,”
throughout our lives, even when we might have assumed that we are already safe
from the lures of sin.
The
Meshekh
Chokhma’s
insight reminds us that is no such thing as a “spiritual nirvana,” there is no
stage or situation in life when we are free from religious challenges. The nature of our challenges will
certainly change from stage of life to the next, from one circumstance to the
next, and perhaps even from one day to the next, but challenges will always
exist. Torah observance will always
require hard work, struggle, and sacrifices of one sort or another.
Another
possible expression of this admonition is the famous Mishna in
Pirkei Avot which warns,
“Envy, lust and fame remove a person from this world” (4:21). Rav Dr. Aharon Rakeffet explained
this remark as referring to the three primary stages of adult life. In one’s younger, carefree years,
before bearing the responsibilities of raising a family, the greatest spiritual
risk is ta’ava – physical lust.
Upon maturing and beginning to pursue a livelihood, one must resist the
dangers of kin’a, envy, the relentless pursuit of wealth and the endless,
futile endeavor to compete with everyone around him. And in the later stages of life, it
is easy to fall into the obsession with kavod, fame, the irrational and
often self-defeating quest for respect and honor.
Different circumstances of life present us with different challenges, and
we must therefore maintain our energetic, vigilant commitment to Torah “kol
yemei chayekha,” constantly throughout our lives. At every stage, we will confront a “yetzer
ha-ra” of one type or another that
threatens to “remove us from the world,” to sabotage our pursuit of spiritual
greatness. Moshe thus exhorts us “li-shmor et kol chukotav u-mitzvotav,” to work hard and devise strategies to
ensure our success in Torah observance, at each and every station in our
challenging journey through life.
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