FOCAL POINT |

These are the words that Moses addressed to all Israel on the other side of the Jordan. . . . It was in the fortieth year, on the first day of the eleventh month, that Moses addressed the Israelites in accordance with the instructions that the Eternal had given him for them. (Deuteronomy 1:1–3)

D'VAR TORAH |

This week we begin to read again the fifth book of the Torah, in the never-ending cycle of probing the depths of our sacred scriptures, which are the foundation of our Jewish identification and existence. And even as we read the parashah for Shabbat we are also beginning our annual eight-week pilgrimage that culminates with the celebration of the High Holy Days.

This fifth book is presented as a series of farewell messages from Moses to his people before he dies and as the twelve tribes prepare to enter the Promised Land of Israel. Now, as we prepare to enter the Promised Land of the New Year 5767 in eight weeks, this book also provides a preamble for us, their descendants. Indeed, after we cross the border into that brave new world, on Yom Kippur morning we will read a stirring reaffirmation of our eternal covenant from that book’s final message from Moses in Deuteronomy, chapters 29 and 30.

This book’s Hebrew title, D’varim, like the names of the Torah’s first four books, derives from its opening phrase, Eileh had’varim . . . , “These are the words that Moses addressed to all Israel on the other side of the Jordan.” In English this book is called Deuteronomy, the “second law,” from its Greek translation, which comes from the reference in Deuteronomy 17:18 to a mishneih haTorah, a “second” or “duplicate Torah.” Since in Greek, Torah was consistently translated as nomos, or “law,” the entire book was called deuteronomion, “second Torah.” Hence we get the common name, Deuteronomy.

Even though this book is primarily a compilation of laws, D’varim, “Words,” is a far better title. As Professor William Hallo notes in The Torah: A Modern Commentary, the Torah’s fifth book should also be read as homily, cult libretto, covenant, and history (W. Gunther Plaut, ed., The Torah: A Modern Commentary, rev. ed. [New York: URJ Press, 2005], p. 1,149 ff.). Here, we shall focus on the single word d’varim as the key to what it means to be a Jew, not only when we read from this parashah this Shabbat, but also as we begin to prepare for the coming High Holy Days.

It’s true that much of Judaism seems to consist primarily of words: our synagogue worship, our sacred writings, the Passover seder. But we are in serious error if we understand d’varim simply as spoken or written words. Talk is cheap. It’s easy to make the mistake of equating the declaration of words, whether in the Sh’ma or in our American “Pledge of Allegiance,” as the fulfillment of our duty as Jews or as American citizens. Talking the talk is futile if we do not then proceed to walk the walk. Yes, the basic Hebrew meaning of davar (the singular of d’varim) is “word,” but it also can be translated as “action,” “task,” “deed,” “matter,” or “thing.”

If we do not implement our religious words concretely, tangibly, substantially, then they are only empty air. In Exodus 34:28, the Ten Commandments are called Aseret HaD’varim—literally “the Ten Words”—but functionally they are “the Ten Tasks.” Honoring parents, observing Shabbat, and abstaining from theft, murder, and adultery are more than mere concepts for us to discuss. Rather, they are specific actions that we are instructed to do or to avoid doing.

We like to declaim “You shall love the Eternal your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:5) and “Love your fellow as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18), but if we don’t follow these statements by implementing and demonstrating our love in tangible ways, we begin and end with mere words. As Eliza Doolittle admonishes in My Fair Lady:
 
     Don’t talk of stars burning above,
     If you’re in love, show me!
     Tell me no dreams filled with desire.
     If you’re on fire, show me! . . .
     Don’t talk of love lasting through time.
     Make me no undying vow.
     Show me now!
     (Alan Jay Lerner, “Show Me,” My Fair Lady, 1956)

When Moses addressed his people before they entered the Promised Land, his d’varim were not rhetoric. They were a working list that showed the Israelites what they were expected to do, told them what actions to carry out, and instructed them on the tasks to complete in their new home. This week we are still basking in midsummer leisure, but in eight weeks we too will be standing on the boundary of a Promised Land—the New Year 5767. We too will be summoned to repent our past failings and inactivity, and to complete our unfinished tasks and take on new challenges.

BY THE WAY |  

• Return, O Israel, to the Eternal your God, for you have stumbled in your iniquity! Take words [d’varim]  with you and return to the Eternal, and say, “Forgive all iniquity and accept the good; and we shall offer the fruit of our lips.” (Hosea 14:2–3)

• “What are your many sacrifices to Me?” says the Eternal One. “I am sated with the rams you bring as burnt offerings, with the fat of your fine animals; I take no delight in the blood of bulls. . . . Wash yourselves; cleanse yourselves, put your evil doings away from My sight. Cease to do evil, learn to do good, seek justice; relieve the oppressed. Uphold the orphan’s rights; take up the widow’s cause.” (Isaiah 1:11, 1:16–17)

• “I have noted how many are your crimes, and how countless your sins—you enemies of he righteous, you takers of bribes, you who subvert in the gate the cause of the needy! . . . Seek good and not evil, that you may live, and that the Eternal, the God of Hosts, may truly be with you, as you think. Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate. . . . I loathe, I spurn your festivals, I am not appeased by your solemn assemblies. . . .  But let justice well up like water, righteousness like an unfailing stream.” (Amos 5:12–15, 5:21–24)