Parashat Ki Tavo Deuteronomy 26:1-29:8
Dear Friends,
Ki Tavo, this week’s parasha can be taken in a variety of ways, simply because “Ki” in Hebrew has a number of meanings. It can mean, “when.” It can mean, “if.” It can mean, “because.” In keeping with the simple meaning of the text, the Children of Israel are being told by Moses that “when” they come into the Land of Israel, things are going to change. Not a surprise. We had been a nomadic people even before our time in Egypt. Certainly after our redemption from slavery into freedom, we remained in the wilderness, not really at home, for 40 years. Now we are faced with a transition. We are going to be rooted in the Land. It will be transformative.
Our behaviors are going to have to change. It will no longer be enough to be “wandering Arameans.” We are going to have to unite. We are going to have to respect property boundaries. We are going to have to pay taxes (tithes) to maintain the infrastructure of our government (i.e. the priests, levites and the Temple). And, we are going to be required to remember from where we came, who we had been, and who we have become. To that end, we are given the ritual of the “First Fruits,” the festival of Shavuot, a ritual that affirms a wonderful future.
Implicit in that future vision is the idea that we will wander no more. We will be secure enough, rooted enough, to plant trees, vineyards and crops, and be around long enough to harvest them. We will get to enjoy the fruits of our labors, and rejoice.
Yet, nothing in life is free. This great, rosy future requires us to be loyal to our covenant with the Divine. To gain the blessings that are described in this Torah portion, we must become a just and honest people. We must continually seek justice, true justice, and care for the disenfranchised in the society. We must offer the sacrifices of all the various sorts, and not worship idols.
It seems simple, but is it? Judging by our history, clearly not. The Temple was destroyed, not once but twice. We have been exiled, and returned to our homeland, not once but twice. To survive, we invented synagogue worship as a replacement for animal sacrifice as a way to lift the spirit, and seek the Divine. More than that, we elevated the Sabbath to be a holy sanctuary in time to replace the physical one in space. While marble columns are not portable, we survived because the Shabbat, and the Torah, are portable and can be carried in our hearts.
So let us pause on this Shabbat, at least for a moment, and contemplate the miracle of our survival. The survival of a small people, that by all logic should have long ago become a footnote in the history of the world. Instead, we still seem to have a role to play. We hallow the role of the individual. We hallow the memories that connect us to our past and yet promise us a fruitful future. Yes, let us pause for a moment, and allow Shabbat to be just that, a time that refreshes and nurtures the soul. And in so doing, may this Shabbat give us that sense of completeness, that against all odds, we still seek, and may we find that Shalom. And having done so, renewed, may we return to our daily task, in small ways and large, to perfect the world.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Marv
rabbischwab@bethelsp.org