Parashat Nitzavim, Deuteronomy 29:9-30:20

Individuals have responsibilities, and groups have responsibilities, and both are answerable to God.

I have always loved Impressionist painting, not only for the subject matter but also for the technique with its visible brushstrokes, soft lines, and emphasis on light. Perhaps it is the optical illusion, having to step back from the painting to get the full effect that I find so attractive. This illusion is even more pronounced in the work of the Pointillist Georges Seurat. Look at his most famous work, La Grande Jatte, up close; and all you see is a bunch of colourful dots, step back and the dots disappear, revealing a lovely afternoon in the park.

The effect is quite the opposite in the work of the Pop artist Roy Lichtenstein. He took the four colour printing method used to create colour pictures in newspapers and comic books and enlarged it. Whereas in commercial printing the effect was as though you were stepping away from the dots, Lichtenstein's work revealed how the dots formed the colours.

Dots have been used to play with our sense of sound as well as sight. Morse code is a series of long and short sounds (dots and dashes), which to the trained ear forms words. A dotted note in Western musical notation indicates the note is lengthened by 50%. Our examples on the use of dots could go on and on…

Dots also appear as notation in the Bible. There are fifteen such occurrences, ten of which are found in the Torah, one instance being in this week's portion Nitzavim. Here, a series of dots is found over a part of the verse: Concealed acts concern the Lord our God; but with overt acts, it is for us and our children ever to apply all the provisions of this Teaching. (Deuteronomy 29:28) There are eleven dots in all in this verse and they appear over the words lanu u-le-vanenu (for us and our children), and over the first letter of the next word ad (ever).

The dots are thought to have been placed over words or phrases that carry an ethical or moral lesson or over incorrect or doubtful words or phrases that crept into the Hebrew text. It is known that the scribes of Alexandria in the third century BCE, who had come under the influence of the Greeks, had used dots for such a purpose by dotting words or phrases but not altering them, the ancient text was preserved, but notice was given that a commentary was called for.

Alfred J. Kolatch, This is the Torah, p. 230-1

The ancient rabbis' midrashic imagination drew on the tradition that the dots had an editorial purpose. The explanation was place in the mouth of Ezra the scribe:

If the prophet Elijah comes and asks me, "Why did you write it thus?" I will reply, "But I did put dots over the letters [to indicate my uncertainty about the text]." If, however, he says to me, "You wrote out the text accurately," I will remove the dots.

Avot de-Rabbi Nathan 34 as quoted in The Book of Legends (Hayim Nahman Bialik and Yehoshua Hana Ravnitzky, eds.) 444:406

As Kolatch points out, once the dots became part of the written tradition, they begged for an explanation. Of course, our favorite commentator, Rashi, obliged. Let's look at the entire verse again: Concealed acts concern the Lord our God; but with overt acts, it is for us and our children ever to apply all the provisions of this Teaching. According to Rashi, Concealed acts concern the Lord our God means that only the individual is punished for a wrong that is hidden. After all, how can a community be held accountable for something of which it is unaware? … but with overt acts means that the community is aware of an individual's actions and as such it is for us and our children ever to apply all the provisions of this Teaching. Thus, an individual's action, if known, becomes a communal responsibility.

Then he gets to the phrase with the dots, it is for us and our children ever, and things become more complicated. The explanation that knowledge brings responsibility gets a "yes, but…" from Rashi. Yes, the responsibility is for us and our children ever, but it only went into effect once we had crossed the Jordan. Huh, where did that come from?! Go back to last week's reading and look at chapter 27, which describes a covenant ceremony that took place after we crossed the Jordan. According to Rashi, this is the point in time at which we took on communal responsibility.

Where does he get this interpretation? It is derived from the last Hebrew word that is dotted, the word ad. In our translation it means "ever," but it can also mean "until." So, instead of the community always being responsible to apply all the provisions of this Teaching, the community could not apply all the provisions of this Teaching until it had accepted them. This took place once they settled in the land. Rashi could only get this reading because the dots highlighted a group of words that otherwise might not be read as a distinct phrase.

Ultimately, the message is that individuals have responsibilities, and groups have responsibilities, and both are answerable to God. We're dealing with these complex situations called relationships. Sometimes things are in the open, sometimes they're hidden. Either way, there are plenty of opportunities to get things wrong.

So let's connect the dots and go back to our Pointillist artist. Step close to a canvas and you focus on a dot, a dab of paint. Walk back a few steps and suddenly everything becomes clear, you see the entire picture. So too with us and our relationships: Sometimes, at a particular point in time (pun intended) we are just too close to see everything that is taking place. Time passes, and hindsight permits us a better view. Close up things seem like they will "always" be that way. With the passage of time we understand that there is a possibility to change "always" into "until."

At which point does "always" become "until"? It is when we step back from the canvas and turn back for another look. This is literally and figuratively the turning point. Sometimes we need that distance from an event to really understand it. This is especially true when emotions are involved and relationships are at stake. It can take time to understand that perhaps we were off the mark, missed the point, or totally messed things up. Once we are aware of this, it is our responsibility to rectify the situation, to turn things around.

Human nature being what it is, we often put off this seemingly unpleasant but most rewarding task called teshuvah (repentance). Fortunately, the Jewish calendar comes with built-in time management. Repentance, forgiveness, and making amends are all on the schedule.

As Pete Seeger drashed on Ecclesiastes:

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)

There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)

And a time for every purpose, under Heaven

We are now at that turning point. Elul will soon end and the High Holy Days will be upon us. Now we have the opportunity to turn and return. This very portion, Nitzavim, encourages us to do so. Deuteronomy 30:1-10 contains the word shuv (turn) seven times. This is not a hidden message that calls for Morse Code or the Bible Code. The message of turning back to God and being welcomed back is found over and over in Deuteronomy. The lesson of responsibility to other people is highlighted by a series of dots in Deuteronomy 29.

The upcoming holiday of Rosh Hashanah is traditionally seen as the date on which the world was created. According to tradition (Genesis Rabbah 1:4) six things were created by God before the world was brought into being; the first being Torah, our covenantal teaching. Rabbi Ahava (whose name means love) said a seventh thing was created before the world came into existence: repentance, turning back. The time is upon us, the teaching is in our grasp, it is our turn to (re)turn. Get the point?

Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Michal Shekel

Parashat Nitzavim-VaYelech, Deuteronomy 29:9-31:30

This week's parashah has been generously sponsored in loving memory of Meryl Gardner's mother, Harriet H. Cohen. Kolel is grateful to Meryl for her ongoing support and appreciates its weekly sponsors.

In transgressing we have started on the wrong path, but we always have the opportunity to change directions.

This is a time of transition both in the secular world and in the Jewish one. Stores have been touting their "back to school" sales for weeks, and Judaica shops have been displaying their back to shul items in preparation for the High Holy Days. With Labour Day behind us, we are back to our "normal" schedule of work and school. It is a transition so familiar to us that we take it for granted.

In Jewish time, the transition is both gradual and increasingly intense. The month of Elul is a time of introspection and soul-searching in preparation for the New Year. As we bid farewell to Shabbat this week, the force of our soul-searching increases with Selichot services. With the observance of Rosh Hashanah the seasonal transition intensifies even more, culminating in Yom Kippur.

Transition is at the core of our double Torah portion this week. In Nitzavim, Moses addresses the people once more, reiterating the obligations incumbent upon us as partners in God's covenant. This is a covenant that we freely accept and is within our reach (Deut 30:11-14).

The image of entering into a covenant with God is very different from what occurred at Sinai. When we received the commandments at Sinai, it was a spectacle that would inspire the likes of Cecil B. DeMille in the future:

Now Mount Sinai was all in smoke, for Adonai had come down upon it in fire; the smoke rose like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled violently. The blare of the horn grew louder and louder. (Exodus 19:18-19)

Compare this with the description in Nitzavim which focuses on the people who are to be part of the covenant:

You stand this day, all of you, before Adonai your God – your tribal heads, your elders, and your officials, all the men of Israel, your children, your women, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer – to enter into the covenant of Adonai your God which Adonai your God is concluding with you this day… (Deut. 29:9-11).

No thunder and lightning, this is a non-smoking covenant. The verb describing this momentous event is le-ovrecha, translated as "to enter," whereas the more common verb for entering into a covenant is likhrot "to cut," comparable to our "cutting a deal."

Rashi picks up on the use of the verb avar, "to enter," and explains that entering into a covenant involved making a partition on one side and the other, and passing between these partitions. He brings an example from Jeremiah 34:18-20 where an agreement was made by cutting a calf in half and walking between the two halves of the offering. A more familiar example would be the "covenant of the pieces" where God promises Abram that his descendants will inherit the land:

And he [Abram] said, "Adonai God, how shall I know that I am to possess it?" God answered: "Bring Me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old she-goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove, and a young bird." He brought God all these and cut them in two, placing each half opposite the other; but he did not cut up the bird. … When the sun set and it was very dark, there appeared a smoking oven, and a flaming torch which passed between those pieces. On that day Adonai made a covenant with Abram… (Gen. 15:8-10, 17-18)

The verb avar appears elsewhere in Nitzavim as well:

Well you knew that we dwelt in the land of Egypt and that we passed through (avarnu) the midst of various other nations through which you passed (avartem); and you have seen the detestable things and the fetishes of wood and stone, silver and gold, that they keep. (Deut. 29:15-16)

Here the meaning of the verb appears to be the simple "crossing" or "passing though." However, the next few verses warn of turning towards the gods of these nations. This provides a deeper understanding of avar, "crossing." Physically passing through an area is bound to affect you – be it walking between items for a covenantal ceremony, or traversing the territory of a nation whose influence you are to avoid.

This week's second parashah, Va-yelekh, also has examples of the verb avar:

Moses went and spoke these things to all Israel. He said to them: I am now one hundred and twenty years old, I can no longer be active. Moreover, Adonai has said to me, "You shall not go across (ta'avor) yonder Jordan." It is indeed Adonai your God who will cross over (over) before you; and who will wipe out those nations from your path and you shall dispossess them. — Joshua is the one who shall cross (over) before you, as Adonai has spoken. (Deut. 31:1-3)

On a simple peshat level, the verb provides "just the facts" of the transition from Moses' to Joshua's leadership under God's auspices. But the change in leadership is not simple. Crossing over the Jordan is more than a physical act, it is the first step in a new life for the nation of Israel; and it will take place under the direction of a different leader.

Moreover, crossing the Jordan has spiritual implications. Symbolically, it is a covenantal action. Crossing the Sea of Reeds carries the same imagery as a "covenant between the pieces." Crossing the Jordan is reminiscent of crossing this earlier body of water. At the Sea of Reeds we transitioned from being slaves to a free people. Crossing the Jordan is the threshold where we are transformed into a nation with full covenantal responsibility to God.

Beyond that, avar has theological implications for the individual's relationship with God. Think of Abram sitting by his tent, imploring three divine visitors, "If it please you do not go past (ta'avor) your servant." (Gen. 18:3) Or of Moses asking to see God's presence and being told "I will make all My goodness pass (a'avir) before you…" (Ex. 33: 19). Or most importantly for us at this time of year – Adonai passed (va-ya'avor) before him [Moses] and proclaimed: "Adonai! Adonai! a God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin… "(Ex 34:6-7)

"Crossing over" can be the first step in a life-changing experience. At this season of introspection, we are painfully aware of our transgressions (averot). Interestingly, even the English word is rooted in a journey: "trans" is from the Latin meaning "across" and "gressus" from "gradi" meaning "to walk, or go." In transgressing we have started on the wrong path, but we always have the opportunity to change directions. Now as we cross over from Elul into the New Year, our past transgressions open a sacred path of soul-searching that can lead us from simple transition to spiritual transformation drawing us closer to God.

Shabbat shalom,
MS