Vaetchanan

 

What Is Enough? Where Is Home?
Sue Levi Elwell

Last week, we began the Book of Deuteronomy, D’varim , literally “Book of Words.” The name of each parashah throughout the Torah is determined by significant words, often verbs, that are among the first words of the portion. This week’s “word,” Va-et’chanan , “I pleaded,” sets the tone for a portion that can be read as a primer for biblical—and subsequent—Jewish belief and practice, for both the Decalogue and the Sh’ma appear in this portion. The previous portion sets the stage for Moses’s words to the people Israel “on the other side of the Jordan” (Deuteronomy 1:1) and continues with his recollection of God’s angry response to the people’s rejection of Caleb and Joshua’s report: “Because of you the Eternal was incensed with me too, saying: ‘You shall not enter [the land] . . .’” (Deuteronomy 1:37).

Moses’s pain embedded in this statement erupts as this new portion begins: “ Va-et’chanan . . . I pleaded with the Eternal at that time, saying, ‘O Eternal God, You who let Your servant see the first works of Your greatness and Your mighty hand, You whose powerful deeds no god in heaven or on earth can equal! Let me, I pray, cross over and see the good land on the other side of the Jordan, that good hill country, and the Lebanon” (Deuteronomy 3:23–25). How often have we begun to tell a story and then been surprised at the power of the emotions evoked by our recall? It is almost as if Moses is ambushed anew by the grief that he has carried since that time when “the Eternal was wrathful with me on your account and would not listen to me” (Deuteronomy 3:26).

As we read Moses’s plea, we hear the echo of one of the names of God in his petition; the use of the verb root , chet-nun-nun , reminds us of , El rachum v’chanun , the “God compassionate and gracious” we beseech in our liturgy (Exodus 34:6 and Mishkan T’filah [New York: Central Conference of American Rabbis, 2007], p. 496). In our parashah , Moses continues, “You who let Your servant see the first works of Your greatness . . .” (Deuteronomy 3:24). It is as if Moses says, “You with whom I have a long and established and tested relationship—You who have shown me wonders throughout my life’s journey—will You please let me cross over and see ‘the other side’? Will You grant me the grace to continue this journey with the people I have served with faithfulness? My service has not been perfect, and this people Israel has stumbled and erred. But, Holy One, will you please extend your generosity and allow me to cross into this promised—and promising—land?” Moses is not arguing with God, but rather bargaining, crafting his words to strengthen his case. God’s response is unequivocal: “Enough! Never speak to Me of this matter again!” (Deuteronomy 3:26).

This final book of the Torah is Moses’s diary, his recounting and retelling of his relationships with God and with the people Israel, connections of love and anger and frustration and commitment so compelling that we return to this book again and again. Each time we read these words, we discover new ways to understand Moses’s story, and our story. God says, “Never . . . again,” and Moses responds to this “never” with a version of “forever.” He adjures the people to remember “the things that you saw with your own eyes . . . so that they do not fade from your mind as long as you live ” (Deuteronomy 4:9, italics added). Then he repeats, “This is the Instruction . . . that the Eternal your God has commanded [me] to impart to you, to be observed in the land that you are about to cross into and occupy, so that you, your children, and your children’s children may revere the Eternal your God and follow, as long as you live , all the divine laws and commandments, that I enjoin upon you, to the end that you may long endure” (Deuteronomy 6:1–2, italics added). This juxtaposition of never and forever frames the Book of Deuteronomy and this portion, which includes a reframing of the Ten Commandments and also includes the version of our beloved statement of God’s unity and uniqueness, the Sh’ma (Deuteronomy 5:6–18, 6:1–9). Moses, facing his own mortality, turns from never to forever, from personal loss to his people’s survival.

Let us return to God’s response to Moses’s plea: “, The Eternal One said to me, ‘Enough! Never speak to Me of this matter again! Go up to the summit of Pisgah and gaze about, to the west, the north, the south, and the east. Look at it well, for you shall not go across yonder Jordan’ (Deuteronomy 3:26­–27). God’s terse first phrase is , rav lach. Our translation, “Enough!” is alternatively rendered, “Enough for you!” in The Five Books of Moses [Robert Alter [New York: W. W. Norton, 2004], p. 896) and as “You have much” in Ma’ayanah shel Torah (Wellsprings of Torah) (A. Z. Friedman [Brooklyn, NY: Judaica Press, 1990], p. 573).

What is enough? Is this about sufficiency or about abundance? The phrase appears twice in the previous portion to describe God’s response to the Israelites’ tenure, “You have stayed long enough” (Deuteronomy 1:6, 2:3). Alter calls this God’s “impatient phrase” ( Five Books of Moses , p. 896). Rabbi Shefa Gold reads , rav lach , as a reflection of God’s blessing: “You have so much!” She continues as if to say Moses need never speak of this matter again: “I am answering your request in this very moment, but you must open your eyes to receive it. You must lift your eyes beyond your own limited expectations. You must climb the mountain to take in the wide expanse. You don’t need to cross the Jordan. You are already Home” ( Torah Journeys: The Inner Path to the Promised Land [Teaneck, NJ: Ben Yehuda Press, 2006], p. 177).

Because we have read this book before, we know the ending. We know that Moses will not cross over. He will not physically enter Canaan, the Promised Land. Yet we continue to measure and consider each word of his very human journey, for it is our journey as well, a journey we continue throughout our lives. Does Moses’s cry for mercy remind us of the rivers each of us longs to cross? Do we crave abundance when we can live well with sufficiency? Do we have the strength, vision, and courage to cross over from never to forever? What might it take for Moses, or for us, to know that we are already home?  (Return)

 

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell , Ph.D., serves as the director of the URJ Pennsylvania Council and the Federation of Reform Synagogues of Greater Philadelphia and as co-president of the Women’s Rabbinic Network. You can contact Rabbi Elwell at slelwell@urj.org