פרשת דברים
In this week’s Parsha, and indeed in much of the Book of Devarim, Moshe Rabenu rebukes the children of Israel for the times that they misbehaved in the desert, and reminds them about the commandments of the Torah and how important it is that they properly guard these commandments. I would like to focus on a particular verse which seems quite strange. In the midst of Moshe’s admonishments, he comments to the Jewish people, “And you said to each other in your tents, ‘Hashem only took us out of Egypt because He hates us and wants to have us killed at the hands of the Emorites!’” We know that the Jews complained inappropriately a number of times, but this time, it seems even Moshe was exaggerating. Could it really be after Hashem had brought ten plagues upon the Egyptians, split the sea for the Jews, brought them out of Egypt, miraculously sustained them in the wilderness for 40 years, that they would comment to each other that Hashem hates them?!
The Seforno insightfully explains that Chazal say that a person sees in his friend a reflection of his own feelings. The Jews had worshipped idols in Egypt for over 200 years and had sunk to very low spiritual depths. They were therefore not feeling very good about themselves and felt pretty certain that Hashem was somehow going to exact vengeance upon them for their misconduct. They were so convinced of this, that they were literally blinded to the rather obvious overtures of love Hashem was lavishing upon them, and they misinterpreted them as a devious plan to lure the Jews out of Egypt and have them perish in the wastelands just yonder. The Seforno concludes by exposing this nefarious trick of the Yetzer Hara so that we will be aware of it and not be sucked into it – the trap of despair. When a person has fallen into desolation, he will be so myopically focused on his own faults and mistakes, that he will be literally incapable of registering the fact that the people around him are showering him with love and have long ago forgiven him. He will be incapable of believing that somebody could love someone as lowly as himself or could forgive him for the things he has done. Obviously, this attitude of guilt and despondency is not what the Torah wants of us, and certainly not the way Hashem views us after we err. Rather Hashem observes us with the patient love of a father who sees his son make a mistake, and waits to see how they are going to fix it as best they can. In fact, it could even be said that almost the only way to grow is through mistake, and the valuable lesson learned from those failures. Chazal say “A person will not acquire the words of the Torah truly until he has erred with them.”
Rashi adds another very complimentary point to this Seforno. Rashi says that the reason the Jews were unable to perceive accurately Hashem’s feeling toward them, is because they hadn’t adequately prepared themselves to receive those feelings. Meaning love is and must be, by definition, mutual. Unrequited love cannot exist according to the Torah. Because the Jews hadn’t fostered a strong enough love for Hashem yet, they were unable to believe that all the obvious acts of love He was performing for them were coming from affection, and they therefore sought out another more diabolical explanation for those advances. For us, the lesson is rather obvious. To the extent that we develop our love toward Hashem, we will be able to recognize that much more of the boundless love which He is constantly pouring forth in an endless stream, and to the extent that we fail to see it, or worse, misinterpret that adoration for something else, that is the extent our position will be skewed.
In truth, Hashem’s continual love for the Jewish people is obvious to anyone who contemplates this matter. The Gemorah in Kiddushin (36) says, “You are children to the Lord your God whether you do His will or not.” It is obvious that the reason Chazal chose the metaphor of a parent and a child is because a (healthy) parent will always love their child regardless of their actions. They may be disappointed, but will never stop loving them. The second blessing of Krias Shma that we say twice daily begins with the words “Eternal love” to reaffirm this concept, that no matter what happens, Hashem will always love us and this knowledge will cause us to view our lives differently, and act accordingly.
This Shabbos is referred to as Shabbos Chazon, named after the Haftarah that we read before Tisha B’Av. The vast majority of the reading deals with intense words of rebuke and admonishment from Isaiah the Prophet on account of the Jews’ wayward behavior. But the Slonimer Rebbe, in his typical upbeat fashion, finds another hidden message in the portion chosen. The verse says, “I have raised children up from nothing, and given them splendor… and they have become children of destruction”. The Slonimer keenly notices that even when Hashem is referring to the Jews derogatorily, He still calls them His children. He says that this message is particularly important during difficult times. When we see tragedies happening, whether on a global level, a national level, or even on a personal level, it is easy to feel despondent and give up hope that things will ever look bright again, or to misconstrue these circumstances as a sign of Hashem’s abandoning us, but the Prophet is reminding us that in reality, the opposite is true. Hashem specifically scolds us because He loves us and it is absolutely imperative that we keep this in mind during the reprimand or its meaning will be completely lost on us and we may need to have the unpleasant message repeated a number of times. The Slonimer cites the Ibn Ezra and others who point out that the verse, “You are children to Hashem” is juxtaposed with the verse which forbids us to scratch our skin in mourning a dead relative. They explain this seemingly strange connection by saying that when a person is in a state of bereavement, he is required to demonstrate to the world (and himself) that he knows that Hashem’s love for him as a father is greater than the love of his biological father or other relative that he has recently buried, and therefore should not get carried away in his grief. This poignant lesson is applicable to us both on a nationalistic level, and on a personal level. The Jewish people are now in a state of exile, and have been for the past 2,000 years. Things have not really been going our way. On a personal level, we have seen many a home ravaged by sickness and tragedy, and on a less serious note, by financial ruin. It is essential that we not view these events as haphazard random bad luck, or worse, malicious acts of cruelty performed by Hashem as the Jews had in the desert, but rather that we inculcate deep into our consciousness how deeply Hashem loves us, and how much He wants for our good, and is only allowing these events to occur so that we learn from them, and return from our evil ways.
May we all merit to recognize and reciprocate the unlimited love of our Creator!