Parashat Re'eh, Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17

This Parasha has been generously sponsored by Sam Markle and Jack Markle, in loving memory of their parents Izzy Markle and Bessie Slywowicz.

What does it mean to establish God's name?

On a recent trip to Europe one thing that stood out was the amount of graffiti everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. Needless to say, I expect to find graffiti in major cities. (I lived in New York City for seven years at a time when, if you stood still, you would be covered with graffiti.) What particularly surprised me were the sights as I took a train ride through picturesque Alpine villages. These are small farming communities where the cows are up and in the field before the rooster has crowed. Every single village had graffiti. Sadly, that is to be expected along the railroad route, but these were items spray painted on barns and tool sheds in private residences at quite a distance away from the tracks. What a lovely sight: Flower covered alpine meadows, snow covered mountains, deep blue skies, emerald lakes, cows lazily chewing on grass, and Heidi running around with a spray can.

Last time I was in Europe in the early 1990s, there was also graffiti. For the most part it was political in nature. At that time, some of it was beginning to change and the MTV logo was visible here and there. This time, I felt as though I was back in New York in the 1980s. The graffiti consisted of elaborate tags (the writer's personal signature), be it in Belgium, in Germany, in the Swiss Alps, or in Italy. I don't know if these were written by people "just passing through" or by local folks, but it looked the same everywhere.

Some people will say that graffiti has a long and sacred history. In the National Park in Capo di Ponte, Italy (a UNESCO world heritage site) I saw Roman graffiti scratched onto stone over even more ancient writings. Perhaps it’s an inescapable part of human nature; we want to leave a lasting mark to let people know "I was here;" and the best way to do this is by writing our names for all to see.

But we all know that's wrong, and—as ours moms used to tell us—just because everyone else is doing it doesn't mean you have to. This is the message we find in parashat Re'eh. Actually, the words of Re'eh are much more emphatic: The parasha doesn't say shouldn't, it says don't. Deuteronomy 12 is concerned with doing away with pagan practices. It instructs us in no uncertain terms to destroy everything related to paganism in the land. Do not worship the Lord your God in like manner, but look only to the site that the Lord your God will choose amidst all your tribes as His habitation, to establish His name there. (Deuteronomy 12:4-5) Beyond the prohibition of pagan worship there is a radical change in how we are to worship God: … you must bring everything that I command you to the site where the Lord your God will choose to establish His name… (Deuteronomy 12:11)

Biblical scholars maintain that this chapter is actually a reflection of reforms that took place under King Josiah in the 7th century BCE. No matter when it took place, this centralization of religious practice had major repercussions:

The limitation of sacrificial worship to a single place is the most unique and far-reaching law in Deuteronomy. It affected the religious life of individuals, the sacrificial system, the way festivals were celebrated, the economic status of the Levites, and even the judicial system.

Jeffrey Tigay (ed.), JPS Torah Commentary, Deuteronomy, pp 118-19

Most frustrating is that no reason is given for the choice of one site. Not surprisingly, this has led to much speculation among commentators such as Isaac Abravanel, who saw the choice of a single location as emphasizing the differences between worshipping God and pagan worship. According to Abravanel, pagan worship is all about what people choose: who or what is worshipped, who acts as priest, where to worship. In contrast, Deuteronomy teaches that the single place of worship, the choice of location, and the selection of priests is all determined by God. Not surprisingly, commentators see this single place as the Temple.

The more difficult part of the verse is where the Lord your God will choose to establish His name. What does it mean to establish God's name? Modern biblical scholarship relates the Hebrew phrase lasum et shmo sham to an Akkadian equivalent. The Akkadian term refers to actually inscribing a royal name on a building or monument after construction is completed.

How futile! We mistakenly think of things set in stone as being permanent while knowing that time slowly erases all the names of those kings as surely as city workers scrub away at graffiti. Buildings themselves are subject to demolition; something that should be noted by those who glory in naming edifices such as Coors Field, TD Banknorth Garden or Trump Tower. Having recently observed Tisha B'Av, commemorating the destruction of the Temples, we are well aware that even stones of sacred sites can come tumbling down. What then becomes of where the Lord your God will choose to establish His name?

An experience recounted by Abba Kovner, Hebrew poet and hero of the Vilna ghetto, sheds light on this matter:

During my first week in the land of Israel, I stood beside the Western Wall. I stood a few paces away from the wall, from the stones. I felt like I did not belong, like I was part of another reality. Then someone tugged at my sleeve and asked me to be the tenth person, to complete their Minyan. I covered my head and joined the Minyan. I joined in the afternoon Mincha prayer. I had arrived.
This is so Jewish, the most uniquely Jewish thing—to be one of a Minyan. To know that nine need the tenth and one needs nine others. This may be the most meaningful thing in Judaism. My prayer is that I should always be one of the group. May my finest words be incorporated into the words recited by the community. Life has no meaning if they are for the individual alone. The individual has meaning only if the individual is connected to the community.*

While roaming in the wilderness, we were instructed to build a Tabernacle so God may dwell in our midst (Exodus 25:8). This is qualitatively different from having a place where God will choose to establish His name. Post Temple we have discovered that God has rejected the permanence of stone and chosen an organic and dynamic structure. As Abba Kovner found out, for us essential sacred space is community. As elaborated elsewhere in the Torah In every place where I cause my name to be mentioned I will come to you and bless you. (Exodus 20:21).

Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Michal Shekel

* I am grateful to Tony Wallis of Temple Emanu-El, Toronto for bringing this quote to my attention.

Parashat Re'eh, Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17

This week’s parasha is in memory of Al Potts, father of Adrienne Rosen, Myra White and grandfather of Alana and Sally.

Our dependence on sight overwhelms our other senses and challenges our ability to believe in an invisible God.

I always thought that Shylock got it wrong when he began his famous speech with "Hath not a Jew eyes." After all, from a Jewish perspective it is not the eyes that are important, it is the ears. The words that we set upon our hearts are sh'ma yisrael, "Hear O Israel" (Deut. 6:4).

Then again, Shakespeare may have read this week's parasha which begins with the word re'eh, "See I set before you this day blessing and curse" (Deut. 11:26). If Billy the Bard knew Hebrew, he would notice the grammatical problem in this verse. The first word re'eh ("see") is in the singular, but the word for "before you" lifneykhem, is plural.

What's going on? The 11th century scholar Bachya ibn Paquda explained that the commandments were placed before the entire people, hence the plural; but the choice of fulfilling the mitzvot is left to the individual's free will.

Writing in The Call of the Torah, Rabbi Elie Munk delves more deeply into the issue of sight: "To clearly understand the problem of free will, one must be able to see into his own conscience. And so the Torah begins its considerations regarding this problem with the verb re'eh, see, which goes much deeper than the verb sh'ma, hear. Whereas hear implies an impression of external factors affecting one's life, see suggests an internal perception, penetrating deep into one's soul."

The idea of sight is woven throughout the parasha; and it is clearly intended to shift the focus from physical sight toward inward perception. Deuteronomy 12:2-3 instructs us to tear down the visible sites (unintentional pun) of other gods, as well as to cut down their images. Chapter 13:2 talks about false prophets who might arise giving us ottot u-moftim, “visible signs and portents,” in addition to the particular prophetic vision arising from dreaming dreams. (Interestingly, Onkelos who provides the Aramaic translation for the Bible, renders the word re'eh as hazei, related to the Hebrew word for a vision –hazon.)

Sight also affects behavior. We are instructed to be visibly different from others (Deut. 14:1). Visible signs also set apart slaves unwilling to go free (Deut. 15:16-17). Even much of the food that is declared kasher, fit to eat, is readily determined by looking at an animal's features (Deut. 14:6-7, 10).

Yet Re'eh also highlights a problem with sight. It has a powerful hold over us and so we are cautioned about each one of us doing what is "right in one’s own sight" (Deut. 12:8). This is the tension that brings us back to the very beginning of the parasha. While God sets the commandments before all of us, each one of us must make an individual choice. Doing what seems right to the individual can end up being harmful to the community. What is "right in one’s own sight" can lead to tunnel vision.

Sight – or lack thereof – plays a pivotal role in a number of important events in the Torah. Eve saw that the fruit was good for eating and "a delight to the eyes" (Gen 2:6). After Eve's snack, which she shared with Adam, "the eyes of both of them were opened" (Gen 2:7). Abraham lifted his eyes, seeing the ram and saving Isaac's life. Isaac's lack of sight meant that Jacob got the eldest's blessing. God uncovered Balaam's eyes, which eventually led him to bless Israel "with eyes unveiled" (Num. 24:4-5).

Sight can also be an obstacle. Most people rely on their eyes more than on any other sense. Yet we Jews believe in a God we cannot see. Our dependence on sight overwhelms our other senses and challenges our ability to believe in an invisible God. Even Moses, on top of Mount Sinai, closer to God than any other human, still requests to see God (Ex. 33:18-23). If Moses is so short-sighted, what hope is there for the rest of us?

The path from sight to perception to insight is the key to the parasha and to the lesson we uncover in it. "See, this day I set before you blessing and curse: blessing, if you obey the commandments of Adonai your God that I enjoin upon you this day; and curse, if you do not obey the commandments of Adonai your God, but turn away from the path that I enjoin upon you this day and follow other gods, whom you have not experienced" (Deut. 11:26-28). Everything is clearly spelled out for us. Seeing is the first step to experiencing; experience leads to internalization, which results in a visible behavioral change. In the words of Isaac Abravanel "Things seen will move the heart more than things heard."

Shabbat shalom,
MS