אָר֗וּר מַטֶּ֛ה מִשְׁפַּ֥ט גֵּר־יָת֖וֹם וְאַלְמָנָ֑ה וְאָמַ֥ר כׇּל־הָעָ֖ם אָמֵֽן׃
Cursed be the one who subverts the rights of the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow.—And all the people shall say, Amen. (Deuteronomy 27.19)
Shalom beloveds,
On this Shabbat we find our ancestors poised to enter the Land of Promise. Whenever we read about the “Promised Land” it’s useful to consider the ways in which this phrase has become, in modern parlance, a meme. In the same way that we might say “home” and mean something different to each of us, a promise such as this is difficult to define. As the Sages tell us, each word of Torah can be understood in as many as 70 different ways.
What is a promise? and what is a place of promise?
A “promising” concept is one that seems positive, full of the as-yet-unseen, whispering of success. Promise is not a word that denotes reality, but possibility. It speaks of fertility, not birth; of a beginning, not a consummation.
There are those who would insist that, as the theme song from the movie Exodus put it, “this land is mine, G*d gave this land to me.” It’s the same song as that of the toddler: “you promised!” But a good look at this week’s parashah makes it clear that the promise is conditional.
וּבָ֧אוּ עָלֶ֛יךָ כׇּל־הַבְּרָכ֥וֹת הָאֵ֖לֶּה וְהִשִּׂיגֻ֑ךָ כִּ֣י תִשְׁמַ֔ע בְּק֖וֹל יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ׃
All these blessings shall come upon you and take effect, if you will but heed the word of your God יהוה:
בָּר֥וּךְ אַתָּ֖ה בָּעִ֑יר וּבָר֥וּךְ אַתָּ֖ה בַּשָּׂדֶֽה׃
Blessed shall you be in the city and blessed shall you be in the country. (Deuteronomy 28.1-2)
Just as clearly we are warned what will happen if we do not “heed the word of HaShem your G*d”:
בַּבֹּ֤קֶר תֹּאמַר֙ מִֽי־יִתֵּ֣ן עֶ֔רֶב וּבָעֶ֥רֶב תֹּאמַ֖ר מִֽי־יִתֵּ֣ן בֹּ֑קֶר מִפַּ֤חַד לְבָֽבְךָ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּפְחָ֔ד וּמִמַּרְאֵ֥ה עֵינֶ֖יךָ אֲשֶׁ֥ר תִּרְאֶֽה׃
In the morning you shall say, “If only it were evening!” and in the evening you shall say, “If only it were morning!”—because of what your heart shall dread and your eyes shall see. (Deuteronomy 28.67)
It’s important to parse this correctly and understand it. There are two covenants, two promises if you will, between HaShem and the People of Israel. One is the Covenant of Sinai, and the other is the Covenant of Zion.
The Covenant of Sinai is the record of the mutual expectation between HaShem and the People of Israel. It is a recognition of the spiritual culture of the Jewish people, unique and personal:
יְקִֽימְךָ֨ יְהֹוָ֥ה לוֹ֙ לְעַ֣ם קָד֔וֹשׁ כַּאֲשֶׁ֖ר נִֽשְׁבַּֽע־לָ֑ךְ כִּ֣י תִשְׁמֹ֗ר אֶת־מִצְוֺת֙ יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ וְהָלַכְתָּ֖ בִּדְרָכָֽיו׃
If you keep the commandments of the Eternal your Almighty and walk in His ways, the Eternal will establish you as His consecrated people, as He has promised you at the covenant of Sinai. (Deuteronomy 28.9)
Throughout the Tanakh, we are told over and over that our relationship with HaShem is Eternal, that even if we experience disaster, HaShem will never forget us.
הֲתִשְׁכַּ֤ח אִשָּׁה֙ עוּלָ֔הּ מֵרַחֵ֖ם בֶּן־בִּטְנָ֑הּ גַּם־אֵ֣לֶּה תִשְׁכַּ֔חְנָה וְאָנֹכִ֖י לֹ֥א אֶשְׁכָּחֵֽךְ׃
Can a woman forget her baby,
Or disown the child of her womb?
Though she might forget,
I never could forget you.
הֵ֥ן עַל־כַּפַּ֖יִם חַקֹּתִ֑יךְ חוֹמֹתַ֥יִךְ נֶגְדִּ֖י תָּמִֽיד׃
See, I have engraved you
On the palms of My hands,
Your walls are ever before Me. (Isaiah 49.15-16)
The Covenant of Zion, on the other hand, is conditional:
וּשְׁמַרְתֶּ֤ם אֶת־כׇּל־חֻקֹּתַי֙ וְאֶת־כׇּל־מִשְׁפָּטַ֔י וַעֲשִׂיתֶ֖ם אֹתָ֑ם וְלֹא־תָקִ֤יא אֶתְכֶם֙ הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֨ר אֲנִ֜י מֵבִ֥יא אֶתְכֶ֛ם שָׁ֖מָּה לָשֶׁ֥בֶת בָּֽהּ׃
You are to keep all my laws and all my regulations, and observe them, that the land not vomit you out into which I am bringing you to settle. (Leviticus 20.23)
There are many lessons we might draw. On this Shabbat, the Torah seems to be trying to tell us that home cannot be a place where the laws of the Sinai covenant are broken; that the Covenant of Zion is entirely revokable. As it has been, more than once. We carry Sinai with us into Exile and back again. We gain and lose Zion and back again. Still we have not learned something important. Still we are not home.
Let us be strong, and strengthen each other, for this season of introspection, of aspiration toward change, of the possibility, even now, of hope.
Shabbat shalom
Rabbi Ariel
Torah for the 21st Century by Rabbi Ariel Stone 