Walking Forward from the Center
This week, the parsha feels so in tune with where we are standing. It’s like that deep breath we can sometimes take that returns us to center and reminds us of who we are. This is the parsha of the Aseret Hadibbrot and the Shema. One week after Tisha B’av we are shaking off the mourning of the three weeks and turning toward a new year. The parsha opens with Moshe at the edge of Eretz Yisrael, unable to enter but nevertheless moving forward by preparing the nation to go in. He is speaking to a generation that were children at the time of Har Sinai if they were born at all. And Moshe reminds them (and us) of the essence of who we are as a nation.
In his comments this week, Rav Schorr brings this home by learning anew a midrash many of us learned in childhood. The Sifri on Devarim (243) tells us that before Hashem gave the Torah to us, He offered it to all the nations of the world. He went first to the children of Eisav, who rejected it because of the prohibition on murder. They said, “the entire essence of our father is murder.” Next, the children of Ammon and Moav grappled with the command not to commit adultery, and they too replied that they could not accept the Torah because “ervah (illicit relations) is our entire essence.” Finally, the children of Yishmael are given a chance. They too reject the Torah because the command not to steal is not in line with who they perceive themselves to be.
Rav Schorr points out an astonishing thing. Each of these three commands were already in place for the nations of the world before the giving of the Torah. The seven Noachide laws include prohibitions on murder, adultery and stealing. Why would the nations reject the Torah over laws they were already obligated to keep, and would have to keep even after they reject the Torah? What is this Midrash trying to teach us?
The midrash is pointing out that the experience at Har Sinai was not one of receiving something external, which binds us and forces us onto a path we do not wish to follow. The process of Har Sinai was a process of revelation that revealed to us the true nature of the world and the true nature of ourselves. Moshe tells us (Devarim 4:35) “You have been shown, in order to know that Hashem is God; there is none else besides Him.” Rashi explains that this pasuk is describing how at Har Sinai Hashem split the seven heavens and the lower region. He peeled back the entire nature of this world and the next.
Why? The pasuk tells us, “in order to know that Hashem is God; there is none else besides Him.” We are not disconnected from Hashem. We are intrinsically part of Hashem and Hashem’s world. We do not just learn the Torah. We internalize the Torah. We unify with the Torah. We absorb it as a natural part of ourselves. The point of the aseret hadibbrot was not to give us an external set of laws to live by. The point of the aseret hadibbrot was to reveal the essence of who we are.
We embodied our truest selves at Har Sinai. With each dibbur, we lived the reality of that dibbur. If the dibbur was a negative command, we embodied the positive state which made us unable to transgress. For example, when Hashem commanded us not to kill, that statement created a reality inside ourselves in which we were filled with love for one another. Killing each other was simply not possible. Rabbi Akiva says that our response to even the negative commandments which we received at Matan Torah was “Yes!” Hashem said, “Do not kill.” We answered, “Yes, this is truth, of course we can not kill.” We recognized the truth of the Torah from within the truth of ourselves.
This was not something the nations of the world were able to accept. They perceived their essence as antithetical to Hashem’s will. They may not murder in fact, but they would still view themselves as murderers. We accepted the Torah from a completely different perspective. What we realized at Har Sinai is “ein od milvado, there is nothing besides Hashem.” We were created by Hashem, we are connected to Hashem, we are meant to do His Will. This is the essence of who we are. This is our deepest self.
Yaacov was the av that exemplified this idea. In Hebrew, the name Yaacov begins with a yud, which has the numerical value of 10, like the 10 commandments. The name continues with the letters ayin, kuf, vet, which have the numerical value of 172, the number of words in the first set of commandments. Yaccov stands for the embodiment of the commandments in general as well as in all their particulars.
The yud at the beginning of Yaacov’s name is also the letter of wisdom. And in Yaacov’s case, that wisdom illuminated his entire body, straight through to the end, the heel, eikev (the last three letters of his name). This is in direct contrast to Eisav, who possessed quite a bit of wisdom. But that wisdom did not affect the way he acted. In the end, his head, repository of his wisdom, was buried in Ma’arat Hamachpelah, together with his parents. But the rest of him, which was not ruled by his wisdom, never made it in.
After the repetition of the Aseret Hadibbrot, the parsha includes the Shema, which we say twice a day. When we say the Shema, we can elongate the last word, echad, and think about how the letters reflect the unity of Hashem in the world. The aleph (1) represents one G-d. The Chet (8) represents the ground and the seven heavens. And the dalet (4) is the four corners of the earth. R’ Yisrael Salanter, and perhaps also the Kotzker Rav, used to say that there are those who crown G-d in all his glory during the shema: above and below, and in all four corner of the earth. But they don’t accept that kingship on themselves.
The revelation at Har Sinai and the words of the Shema are a return to center, a recognition of who we are, an acknowledgment of Hashem’s kindship over us. This is how we move forward from Tisha B’av into Teshuva, by recognizing the truth of who we are. We are Hashem’s children, living in Hashem’s world. At our core, we are naturally drawn into a relationship with our Creator. The Torah and all the mitzvot are in sync with who we really are.