Parashat And Sidra Of Devarim

Parashat Devarim is the 44th weekly Torah portion in the annual Jewish cycle of Torah reading.

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev says in one place that Shabbat chazon (when we read the haftarah the well-known vision of Isaiah – chazon) is the day in which we receive the vision of the third Temple, even though
we only see him as if from a great distance (the Hebrew word chazon is a designation for seeing “from far away”, distant vision, imagination). Based on this idea, we can also understand the relationship between “seeing” the haftarah and the sidra Devarim, sections that are always read on the Sabbath preceding the 9th of Av. With Sidra Devarim begins the “mishne torah” – Moses’ summary of the Torah – and the entire book of Dvarim (the 5th book of Moses) from it differs from the previous four parts in that it addresses the generation that will soon become the Holy One countries. This generation, unlike the previous ones, needed advice and warnings. While the Jews who wandered in the desert knew G-d directly, they saw Him on Sinai – generations the following, marked by a responsibility to the physical world, lacked this immediacy: She heard G-d, but did not see Him in the slightest – G-d addressed Israel like this: “Now, listen Israel…” (Deuteronomy 4:1). There is the following difference between seeing and hearing: one who has witnessed an event is in he will not let his testimony get used to him; he saw, as they say, with his own eyes. On the other hand, someone who has heard a story about the same event may doubt the testimony. Hearing does not mean being sure. For that reason, the generation that was soon to enter the the territory of Israel, the one who heard G-d but never saw it, felt it as a command that it was necessary to from himself to make some sacrifice. Such a command would be superfluous for a people who were passing through the desert. As is evident, the generation referred to in the book of Dvarim was lacking in some ways the immediacy of the spiritual experience of his predecessors. However, it was this generation that was to achieve what the previous generation failed to achieve. How
it is said: “You have not yet come to the place of rest, the inheritance which the Lord your G-d has given you” (Deuteronomy 12:9). Only a later generation was to enter Shiloh and Jerusalem, because only by descending into the material world concern and putting G-d’s will into practical action can be “rest and inheritance” achieved.
In short, Devarim speaks to us of a paradox: through descent he comes promotion; the highest deeds of the spirit are achieved on earth, not in heaven. Such is also the message of the “vision” on the Sabbath of Chazon: although the haftarah of that day is read in the period the “nine days” of mourning when we remember the destruction of the Temple, the exile in which these tragic losses resulted, will bring true redemption. And we can see a vague vision of this redemption, as Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev says, already in the very moment of misfortune. The feeling of grief, this being “in distress” (Lamentations of Jeremiah 1:3; the mentioned verse, according to our of the wise refers to the period of “three weeks” from the 17th of Tammuz to the 9th of Av), which our mind controls during
“nine days”, when we remember the destruction of the Temple, can only replace the joy of the saint
sabbath. We even have to rejoice over the Sabbath preceding the 9th of Av more than usual, so that we managed to lift from the heaviness of the days surrounding this festive rest, and to find the true spirit of the Sabbath. However, this command also has a deeper meaning. The Sabbath is a reflection of the future life – and this future life will be as perfect as possible
erases all traces of past exile.
Therefore, it is not appropriate to remember the exile on this day.
At the same time, there is more to it: on the Sabbath we don’t just get rid of sadness – we multiply our own joy. The future redemption will be much more spiritually intense than any that have preceded it. If it was only to establish a kind of “status quo”, exile would be useless. Each exile of the Jews resulted in a new possibility of the spirit; in their distraction they were redeeming it, to bring to G-d’s service those who would otherwise not know the Torah. And the conclusion of this journey – the future life – it will be redemption without exile, a state of complete spirituality for which the new wanderings are complete unnecessary. So the Sabbath, when we begin to read the book of Dvarim, a day very closely connected with exile, a day of “vision” and at the same time, a prelude to the events to come, it indicates the dissolution of the entire exile and its transformation in one great, untainted joy. The Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chayim, 552:10) tells us that on Shabbat Chazon it is possible to sit down to a banquet similar to the one arranged by King Solomon, so that we anticipate the world to come they gained the power to transform the pain of exile into the joy of redemption.

Chassidic Parashat

“These are the words which Moshe Rabbenu spoke to all of Israel. . . “.(Deuteronomy 1:1)
R’ Elimelech of Lizhensk writes, that this verse hints at a lesson for serving Hashem earnestly.
It says, (Ecclesiastes 7:20) “. . . there isn’t a Tzaddik in the Land that does (only) good and has not committed some transgression.” Every one of the mitzvohs in the Torah is associated with one of the 613 limbs of the body. When one has transgressed, his spiritual body is imperfect. Therefore, if even the greatest Tzaddik is suffering from imperfection, how is it possible for any Jew to dare
approach Hashem and to engage himself in some mitzvah or act of Holiness? The answer is that he can unite himself to the whole of his people. There is a spiritual realm called Klal Yisrael, the Community of Israel, and this realm is perfect, complete, without any taint of sin or imperfection.
“Ki Amcha kulam tzadikkim.” (Isaiah 60:21) “Your people, they are all Tzaddikim.” Or read, “your people all together = Tzaddikim.” Even if there are individual
members of the community who are imperfect because of their transgressions, nevertheless, the realm as a whole is complete. This is the strength of Klal Yisrael.
Therefore when a Jew will bind himself up in the realm of the community, any limb that might be suffering from imperfection is healed and re-sanctified. Then it is possible to fully perform the mitzvah or Avodah in complete Kedusha. This is the explanation of the short invocation that we make before performing mitzvah. We say, “For the sake of the union of the Holy One Blessed be He, with his Shechinah to unite the Name “Yud Kay” with “Vav Kay” in a perfect union in the name of all Yisrael. ( for example, look in the Artscroll Siddur before the taking of the four
species)
Bein Hametzarim (17th of Tammuz – 9th of Av)
Unconditional Love

The Chiddushei HaRim explains the Chassidic custom of “circumventing” the prohibition of eating meat during the 9 days from Rosh Chodesh Av until after
Tisha B’Av. Since the Beis HaMikdash was destroyed by senseless hatred, we know that the only way to repair such tragic behavior is through unconditional love. The Gemarra (Shabbos 118) states, “Abbaye said that when a scholar completes
the study of a Tractate of the Talmud, it is proper that he and his friends make a festive meal together.” When Torah scholars gather to celebrate with one another over the completion of
a tractate of Talmud their joy knows no bounds. This is the opposite of senseless hatred. This unity is based on unconditional love. It is the remedy which heals the ravages of senseless hatred.

The Nine Days
This thought was sent out by my friend Rabbi Avraham Novick. He is the outreach worker in Tel Aviv University for Jeff Seidel’s Jewish Student Information Service. Rosh Chodesh Menachem Av begins the ‘Nine Days’. Our sages teach us that “when the month of Av begins we should reduce (memayate) our joy”. During the
Nine Days the tragedies of the `Three Weeks’ intensify. Traditionally, these are days of mourning and deep self reflection. The Chassidic masters interpret the sages as “when the month of Av begins, you should reduce/humble yourself joyously”. During this period of tragedy, (both past and present, national and personal) there is a greater concealment of G-d’s Presence. Finding ourselves surrounded by increasing darkness, not only do we often lose our balance and inner calm, but all too easily, we forget about G-d. Our mission in this world is specifically to reveal G-d’s presence. This is achieved
when we recognize G-d’s greatness and our own smallness. Humbling ourselves, we become vessels that reveal the Divine Presence in this world. In times of
darkness, this is more difficult. However, the light that shines forth from darkness, is brighter and more easily recognizable. This greater revelation that shines forth from the darkness, is the source of our joy in these days.
Feeling The Loss
The Shulchan Aruch, the code of Jewish Law (Orach Chaim 1:1), advises that one who has any measure of the Fear of Heaven, should be distressed and disquieted over the destruction of the Holy Temple that stood in Jerusalem. It is written that
a generation that doesn’t rebuild the Beis HaMikdash (with their exemplary behavior) is as if it destroyed it. But the one who should be the most concerned is the one who feels nothing at all.
He must search his soul as to why he doesn’t feel the pain of his people and doesn’t rejoice in its Simchas.
Fit To Be Tried
The famine in Russia that year was worse than anybody could ever remember. Slowly but surely the markets became bare and soon there was only a meager
selection of vegetables and the barest amount of groat bread and margarine for sale. Letters from all over Russia began to arrive in Shpole. These emergency messages were addressed to the Tzaddik, the Shpoler Zeide, for he had always been able provide for the poor and downtrodden of his people. He was called the Zeide, (grandfather) on account of his great spiritual and practical benevolence. He himself was in such anguish over the famine that he could only partake of a few bites of bread and some tea for weeks on end. Who could beseech Hashem that the decree be rescinded. Even the Gentiles looked to the Jews for help them,
and the Jews looked to the Shpoler Zeide. Still, Hashem wasn’t answering prayers for food. The famine spread. The Shpoler Zeide decided on a bold course of action. He requested 10 of the generation’s most venerated Tzaddikim including, Reb Zusia of Anipoli, Reb Shimshon of Shipitovka and Reb Wolf of Zhitomir, to meet with him in Shpole. When they had all finally arrived a few days later, he seated them around a long and broad table then arose to address them. “My Masters’, I have decide to press charges and to take the Almighty to court. While according to the law of the
Torah, the plaintiff must take his case to the place where the defendant is located, nevertheless Hashem is called Makom (the place) and there is no place
devoid of His presence. Not only this, but as we all know, a place where there is a gathering of 10 men is considered a dwelling place of the Shechinah. (divine
presence) Therefore, the court case will conducted here in this chamber”. The attendant then announced, “Reb Aryeh Leib ben Rachel hereby summons the
Almighty to a lawsuit in this location three days from now.”
For the next three days the Tzaddikim fasted and prayed, allowing no one to interrupt them. On the fourth day, wrapped in his Tallis and crowned in his Tefillin, the Shpoler Zeide instructed his attendant to call the court to order. The Shpoler Zeide presented his case. “In the name of all of the men, women and
children in Russia, I come to claim that the defendant, The Almighty, is failing to live up to His obligation to His People. Instead of sustaining them as is written, “He opens up His hand and satisfies every living thing with His favor” (Psalms 145), he is allowing them to perish from hunger.” “Does not the Torah itself state, ‘For the Children of Israel are bondsmen to me, they are my bondsmen . . .’? (Leviticus 25:55) They belong to the Almighty for eternity. And doesn’t the Law as stated in the Mechilta and the Talmud require the master to provide for the wife and children of the bondsman? How can the Almighty disregard His own Torah? Now I can imagine that some prosecuting angel might argue in the defense of the Almighty that these servants do not serve the Master properly as they should. ‘Nevertheless’, I would answer him, ‘Where is written that if the servant is lazy and unfaithful therefore his wife and children should suffer? Furthermore, it is all the fault of the Master Himself. For He burdened His servants with a Yezter Hara (base inclination), which constantly tries his loyalty. I am confident that were it not for this Yezter Hara, they would provide the Almighty with the most praiseworthy service.” With that, the Shpoler Zeide fell silent. He slumped into his chair, exhausted from the ordeal of bringing a lawsuit against the Almighty. Clutching his head in his hands, he awaited the verdict. The judges huddled, discussing the case amongst themselves for some time in hushed, solemn tones. Finally, Reb Zusia rose to his feet to announce the verdict. “The court finds”, he declared, “that justice is with Reb Aryeh Leib ben Rochel. The Almighty is therefore obligated to find whatever means He deems appropriate to provide for His people. It is our prayer that the Heavenly Court concur with the decision of this court.”
Then all the Tzaddikim rose to their feet, and declared the verdict aloud three times in unison, sealing the outcome.
The Shpoler Zeide jumped to his feet with great joy, and called for refreshments to be served. The food restored their strength a bit and they bouyantly drank L’Chayim together, celebrating the victory. Then each Tzaddik left to return to his home town in expectation of the salvation to come. It was only five days later that the Russian government announced that they would soon be bringing inexpensive wheat and other grains from Siberia over a previously inaccessible route. The price of available grain plunged, as merchants scrambled to cash in before the arrival of the new stock. Within the month, new supplies were on the market. That whole year, even the family with the most humble of means had plenty to eat.

Czech Parashat

Sidra Devarim is always read about the Sabbath before Tisha be-av, the ninth ave, which is a sad date that commemorates the destruction of the first and second Temples, as well as a number of other tragic events that have affected the Jewish nation. This misfortune is reflected in the choice of haftara, a reading from the prophets, which is read at the end after a reading from the Torah. Around the ninth of Av there are three weeks of sorrow, and so the prophecies that are read remind of guilt and rebuke for the sins that were the spiritual cause of the destruction of the Temple, but afterwards bring joy, consolation and hope. This week’s Haftarah, Isaiah’s famous “vision” gives its name to this Sabbath: Shabbat Chazon = Sabbath Vision, Vision (Isaiah 1:1-27). Traditionally, it is read as a strong, harsh indictment of a rebellious people: “The ox knows its master, the donkey knows its master’s cradle, but Israel does not know me; my people are unaware” (Isaiah 1:13). But even this passage ends hopefully, it opens everyone’s eyes to make it clear that the current state is not and may not be final.
It’s a strange connection, that the fifth book of Torah is connected to this vision of the prophet Isaiah. The fifth book is different from the previous ones. It’s like the second Torah, a recap of Moses of the previous Torah. Although this is just a summary, there are also a whole new commandments. This whole book of Devarim differs from the other four books in that it is primarily aimed at the generation which was just about to enter the Holy Land. And these people needed counsel and help, which the previous generations didn’t, because they experienced the immediate knowledge of G-d in their journey in the wilderness. They saw him at Sinai But another generation, that had to prove its responsibility in the physical world, has lost that directness. They heard G-d but they didn’t see him. The one who witnesses the event is understandably convinced of it. But the one who only heard about the same event can have his doubts about it. Hearing does not provide certainty. This is why the generation that was supposed to enter Israel hearing but not seeing G-d had to have commandments and warnings that were useless to the wilderness people. On the one hand, later generations lacked the immediate spiritual experience of their ancestors. But on the other side they received something that was left unfulfilled with their fathers, as it is written (Devarim 12:9): “Hence, you have not entered the place of rest and you have not taken the inheritance which the LORD your G-d gives.” “This was only achieved by the later generation, which began to put it into practice, in their everyday, quite material world. That’s the way it should be. On the contrary, even today, we must find a person who uses the big words of his religious dictionary, which however completely fails with how he really lives his life. That would certainly not be the true understanding of heritage, nor real peace. Let’s return to Silence be-av. Already when we begin to read “Jeremiah’s Cry”, we are filled with a feeling of humiliation and anxiety, which belongs and dominates this time of 3 weeks of sadness which connects the words “eicha” and “acheka”. The words in Hebrew are composed of the same letters. With the first one begins “Jeremiah’s Cry” and with the second God asked man after his first transgression, “Where are you?” “And we have to ask ourselves the same question right now. Another thing I want to mention is sadness on one side and joy on the other. Everything has its own time and its limitations. Even the very weeks of sorrow are interrupted by Sabbaths, and as the tosafists say, Sabbath is a day when joy must win. And on the Sabbath before the ninth ave, we are urged to rejoice even more than usual, so that the melancholy of the surrounding days does not interfere with the atmosphere of the Sabbath. There was a story of one czech fellow Jiří Voskovec on it, which pleased us back then. He spoke of the fate of Sisyphas. Sisyphos was an ancient king who was condemned for his wrongdoings to suffer forever in the underworld by rolling a heavy boulder onto a mountain top. Every time he was almost up, the rock somehow laughed at him and rolled down again. And he had to start again and again. And his exhausting and futile work has since been called Sisyphus. And Jiří Voskovec, with the original name Wachsmann, had a beautiful, almost Jewish-Sabesovian comment about it: We still hear about Sisyphos again and again unnecessarily rolling that stone up. But no word has ever been said about what happened when the rock came down on him. And he was describing his own idea, how Sisyphos stopped, straightened his back, turned, looked into the valley, and cheerfully, and maybe even with a song he went down a pleasant way down, sometimes perhaps he jumped out of joy.
So this Sabbath, which is so closely linked to the tragic events in Israel, is precisely the Sabbath of Chazon, in which we must not lose this vision when we have previously thoroughly examined where we (Acheka) are, how we stand before G-d. Sulchan Aruch (Orach Chayim 552.10) tells us that on this day we are allowed to prepare a feast like the one Solomon hosted when he was appointed king. Our expectation and hope should give us strength in every difficult situation.