Nitzavim-Vayelech

Written by Janet Berenson-Perkins Thursday, 14 September 2006

Nitzavim-Vayelech

I’ve never been very comfortable in crowds: the unpredictable ebb and flow pushing me in a direction I may not wish to go, the sense that something might happen at any moment and I won’t be able to get out of the throng, and the uncertainty about the people all around me — what do we share? When I read in Torah the scenes of Moses gathering the people, my imagination sees and feels the immensity, the uncertainty and the crush of it all.

Nitzavim-Vayelech rolls along like a wave, pushing the people, the story and us the readers forward almost inexorably towards the end of this stage of the journey and on to the beginning of the next stage — responsible Jewish peoplehood. But before that new phase can commence, Moses must ensure that the people understand how different it will be; he must prepare them to transfer their allegiance to Joshua and to take responsibility for their individual and group actions as the people of the Covenant in a new land.

“You stand today, all of you, before the Eternal your God” (Deut. 29.9)— everyone — leaders, men, women, children, the involved and the uninvolved, the strangers and the labourers, the people of 1300 BCE and the Jews of 2006 CE. God sees us all, speaks to us all, demands of us each and all to become active and involved participants of the Covenant, not merely passive spectators or voiceless followers.

My mind drifts back to the most powerful and moving crowd in which I have ever found myself- the hundreds of thousands gathered along the Reflecting Pool from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial, as Martin Luther King’s extraordinary and unforgettable words were etched forever into the minds of a nation and the world — “I have a dream!”

And Moses’ impassioned plea to the people merges with the echoes of King’s words:

“The secret things belong to the Eternal our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law… (Deut. 29:28)

“For this commandment which I command you this day, it is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say: ‘who will go up for us to heaven and bring it to us and make us hear it that we may do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say: ‘who shall go over the sea for us, and bring it to us and make us hear it that we may do it?’ For very near to you is the word, in your mouth and in your heart, that you may do it.” (Deut. 30:12-14)

Living as a Jew — then and now - is not about passing the buck; it is not about turning aside from the distasteful and unjust; it is not about watching the world from a comfortable distance. We are obliged to pay attention, to feel in our own hearts the imperative for justice, and to speak out and act.

And again Martin Luther King’s words resonate with those of Moses, though he was speaking to the Negro (sic) people:
“In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.”
Simply by substituting a few ethnic names and colour adjectives, we find ourselves hearing and being challenged to address the issues of justice and injustice, life and death, for Israelis and Palestinians, for white British and immigrant ethnic peoples, for Jews, Christians, Muslims, Sikhs and Hindus. We are carried from the massive crowd gathered in the land of Moab across time and space to the television camera peering across borders into conflicts between people today.

And we must choose to hear, to listen, and to act: “I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life, that you may live, you and your descendants, to love the Eternal your God, to listen to God’s voice and to cling to God, for that is your life and the length of your days, that you may dwell in the land which the Eternal swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob, to give them.” (Deut. 30:19-20)

To be the righteous inheritors of the land God promised our ancestors, we must act from our highest motives and our best potential; we must embrace the laws of justice and freedom for all, as Reverend King concluded:

“When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

But the story doesn’t end there, with the hope and idealism. The mantle of leadership is passed to Joshua and the people are encouraged to “be strong and of good courage; fear not and be not frightened because the Eternal your God goes with you and will not fail you nor forsake you.” A battle lies ahead.

We must face the hatred and violence of others who wish us harm with strength and resolution, and at the same time, we must remember the final mitvot in Torah, given at the end of Vayelech:

“Write for yourself this song and teach it to the children of Israel.” Ibn Ezra and later rabbis interpreted this verse as addressed to every Jew, enjoining us to write a Torah scroll for ourselves. Whereas this is traditionally interpreted as copying a sefer Torah, I offer a different possibility. We write our scrolls with our lives, and each of us has both the opportunity and the obligation to create a life and a Torah of peace and justice that allows the milk and honey of the ancient promise to flow for all.

Janet Berenson-Perkins