We Are Not Trapped by Our Past Decisions

 

Parshat Reeh begins “Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse.” Rabbi Moshe Feinstein notes the peculiarity of the word “today” in the verse. He suggests that the Torah here is reminding us that often people think that the life that they live today is based on the decisions that they made a long time ago. And now we are trapped by those previous decisions. While it is true that decisions have consequences, and sometimes it is impossible to totally undo a decision, every day is a new opportunity. Every day we have the choice: to either affirm our past decisions and continue down the path that we have been on or to choose to do things differently. While we may feel stuck due to past decisions, the Torah wants us to always remember that so long as we are alive we have the ability to make new choices, different choices. One definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and yet expect different results. If we want to see changes in our life then we must make different choices and act in different ways. While this might be difficult, the word HaYom reminds us that every day is a new opportunity to make new choices. 

All Actions Have Consequences

 

By analyzing two interpretations of the word Ekev separately and together, we can suggest an important theme that emerges from Parshat Ekev.

Rashi does not treat the word literally, but rather homiletically. The word Ekev has the same letters as the word Akev, which means a heel. Rashi explains that Moshe here is warning the people not to discard those mitzvot which some would consider easy, or less important. Make sure not to step on them with your heel, says Rashi, and you will be rewarded for taking even ‘kalot’ light mitzvot seriously.

There really is no such thing as kallot, as small things. An attention to detail is necessary in all aspects of our life. As Larry Bell, 20^th cen. industrialist (founder of Bell Helicopters) once said: Show me a man who cannot bother to do little things and I'll show you a man who cannot be trusted to do big things.” The greatest rabbis are those that have a keen attention to detail, people, and causes.

The Ramban explains that the word Ekev means Baavur, literally “because of” or “as a result of”. According to Ramban, the Parsha opens with Moshe reminding the Jewish People that there are consequences to our behavior. How we conduct ourselves will have a direct impact on how G-d relates to us, or more precisely to what degree we are able to benefit from G-d in our lives. This idea forms the backbone of the entire Parsha and is important enough that the Rabbis chose the end of our parsha as the second paragraph of the Shema b/c of its emphasis on Sechar V’onesh, that there are consequences to our actions.

If we allow Rashi’s comments to inform our understanding of Ramban’s interpretation, then the word Ekev reminds us that there are consequences to even seemingly small decisions and actions. And those consequences may be significantly different or more severe than anyone would have ever imagined.

Chazal were familiar with this idea. Take, for example, Shemitah. The idea that Shemitah cancels debts was to benefit the borrowers and allow them to get a leg up every seven years. Instead, it was worse for them as people stopped lending money, Hillel had to ameliorate the situation with the Prozbul. The pages of the Talmud and Midrash are replete with examples of seemingly minor acts of goodness or evil that had consequences far beyond what anyone could have imagined. One word, Ekev, has multiple interpretations. We must appreciate that our actions have consequences.  We must understand that nothing of substance can ever be classified as kallot. Even seemingly minor actions or events can have major impact. If we keep these lessons in mind then we can be assured that that we will be worthy of all the blessings that Hashem has promised us in Parshat Ekev.

 

True Nechama through Changing Our Perspective

 The Talmud in Makkot tells us that Rabban Gamliel, Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah, Rabbi Yehoshua, and Rabbi Akiva were walking in Jerusalem. Upon reaching Mount Scopus, they saw a fox emerging from the Kodesh Ha-Kodashim. The rabbis were crying while Rabbi Akiva laughed. They asked him, “Akiva! How can you laugh at a time like this? The Beit HaMikdash is in ruins!”

Rabbi Akiva replied, “How can I laugh?! How can you cry?”

They countered, “The Holy of Holies - that could never be entered except by the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur - is now a fox’s den. How can we not weep?”

“That is exactly why I laugh,” answered Rabbi Akiva. “If Uriah’s prophecy of a destroyed and barren Jerusalem can be fulfilled, then I am confident that so, too, Zechariah’s vision of a restored Jerusalem will also be fulfilled.”

The rabbis then declared, “Akiva nichamtanu, Akiva nichamtanu – Akiva, you have comforted us.”

Rabbi Akiva laughed in the face of tragedy because he realizes that consolation will ultimately come. What is difficult to understand is why the rabbis are comforted. What kind of solace is there, when the pain is so intense and so deep, to know that there will be a redemption? For that matter, how does nechama work? We read this morning, “Nachamu, nachamu ami – be comforted, my people.” So begins the shiva d’n’chemta – the seven Haftorahs of consolation that we will read until Rosh Hashanah. They are eloquent and powerful words of encouragement, and they come to strengthen our belief in an ultimate redemption, but how is this supposed to provide comfort?

Nechama is an important concept for Jews. Nichum aveilim – comforting mourners – is a very important mitzvah. There is an organization called Nechama which is dedicated to sending volunteers to trouble spots to help those who are suffering. But what exactly is Nechama?

A look at the term throughout Tanach and in the story of Rabbi Akiva offers us guidance as to what a Jew can hope for in times of sadness, tragedy, or pain. The very first time it is used is in Parshat Bereishit (6:6):

וינחם ה' כי עשה את האדם בארץ, ויתעצב אל לבו.

If we were to translate this using the word comfort, it would read that God was consoled by the fact that He created man, and His heart was saddened. Rather, we should translate the verse as, “And God reconsidered having made man on earth, and He had heartfelt sadness.”

Nechama is not necessarily about feeling better. Even our usage of the traditional expression of consolation, “HaMakom yenachem eschem besoch she’ar avaylei Tzion vi’Yerishalayim,” which we often translate as, “May God comfort and console you among all of us who mourn for Zion and Jerusalem,” is not only about comfort.

Nechama is about a change in perspective. It represents reaching a place – mentally or emotionally – where the individual recognizes that the current reality cannot be the permanent one. God recognized that his initial creation of mankind required adjustment. We encourage the mourner that she or he should, and hopefully will, find perspective in theaftermath of the loss of their loved one. And Rabbi Akiva did not make the Sages feel jovial. He, instead, gave them a new perspective on their tragic situation. The Temple may be in ruins, but there is a next chapter still to come.

The Privilege and the Challenge of Being A Star

 

Towards the beginning of Parshat Devarim, Moshe reminds the Jewish People of the challenges that he faced at the beginning of his tenure as leader (1:9-10): “And I said to you at that time, saying, 'I cannot carry you alone. The Lord, your God, has multiplied you, and behold, you are today as the stars of the heavens in abundance.” On the surface, Moshe is making the argument that the number of Jews is too vast for Moshe to lead alone. In response Hashem suggests that he appoint a number of other leaders to help tend to the people’s needs and to help answer the nation’s questions. However if we look a little closer at the two verses there may be another lesson that we can learn from Moshe’s description. Back in Sefer Bereishit God tells Avraham that he will be the patriarch of God’s Chosen Nation. Hashem goes on to say that Avraham’s descendants will be as numerous as both the sand of the sea and the stars of the heaven. Many commentators try to understand this promise in light of the reality of Jewish history and the population of the world Jewry throughout. While sand and stars both represent the blessing of many, there is an important difference between the two. Each grain of sand is insignificant, and only when many grains of sand come together does sand exhibit the great power to hold back the ocean. On the other hand, each star shines on its own. Throughout the universe there are billions and billions of stars, and each one is significant in its own right. Perhaps here in Devarim Moshe is hinting at the fact that one of his challenges in leading the people was that each one considered themselves a star. We can imagine that it could be difficult to lead a nation comprised of individuals when each of them had a Jewish mother telling them that they are the best and that they are a star. Self-confidence can be tricky. On the one hand it is critical to have a healthy degree of ego. On the other hand, it can be a big problem when a person has too much self-confidence or expresses self-confidence in an inappropriate way or at an inappropriate time. Reb Simcha Punim of Peshischa is famous for saying that a Jew should have two pockets. In one pocket should be a piece of paper saying: "I am only dust and ashes." When one is feeling too proud, reach into this pocket and take out this paper and read it. In the other pocket should be a piece of paper saying: "For my sake was the world created." When one is feeling disheartened and lowly, reach into this pocket and take this paper out and read it.