Devarim 2008

This week we begin the Book of Deuteronomy, the last of the Five Books of the Torah. The name comes from the Greek, Deuteronomion, meaning ‘Second Law.’ It was called ‘Second Law,’ or “משנה תורה” in Hebrew, because it is basically one long speech, in which Moses retells the Israelites what happened to them in Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers.  Although some of the commandments given in Deuteronomy are new, Moses repeats many of the old ones, including the Ten Commandments. This book is almost like a summary of the previous three books. Hence, Deuteronomy, “Second Law.”

The Hebrew name for this book is different. As you know, the name of each parasha is taken from the first important word in the parasha, and the name of each book of the Torah is taken from the first important word in the book. Deuteronomy begins “ אלה הדברים אשר דבר משה אל כל ישראל,” “These are the words which Moses spoke to all Israel...” Therefore the name of the book of Deuteronomy in Hebrew is דברים, Words.

There is something strange about calling a book “Words.” After all, aren’t all books just words? And if we read about the battles and the commandments and the rebellions, why do we have to now read about Moses describing them for us? Why do we waste our time hearing the same stories over again when we could be reading about what happens next? We could read about the battles for Canaan, the Walls of Jericho, the sun standing still, Samson pulling down the house of the Philistines, Yael the housewife killing Sisera, the enemy general. Aren’t actions more exciting than mere words?

In our lives, too, we sometimes value actions over words. We talk about a woman’s accomplishments in the business world, not what she said to the worker in the supermarket. We talk about a baseball player’s earned run average, not how he speaks to his children.

In the Jewish world too, we honor those who lead services, who make large donations, who agree to sit on committees, who arrange events. After all, it’s actions that change things, not words.

And it’s true, deeds are important. The Mishnah tells us that a person with wisdom but no deeds is like a tree with branches but no roots. A person with deeds but no wisdom is like a tree with roots but no branches. Only a tree with both roots and branches can survive. No one claims that deeds are unimportant. But what about words?

Some people say that language is what separates humanity from the animals. Others say no. We know that many animals communicate with each other through a variety of sounds, of greater or lesser complexity. But one thing that is different between humans and animals is that humans use words to contextualize their deeds. Using words, we give meaning to our actions. Therefore, unlike the actions of animals, the actions of human beings can take on a significance greater than that of the deed itself.

One of the stories Moses tells in this week’s parasha is that of the twelve spies who go up to Canaan. In Moses’ version, he says to the people “All of you approached me and said let us send men before us to search out the land, and they will return and tell us the way to go up...”

If we look at the first version of the story in Numbers Chapter eight verse one, it is Gd who tells Moses to send men to spy out the land, not the people. And Moses tells them not just to find the best route, but to see if the people in the land were strong or weak, whether they were few or many, and whether the land was good or bad. As you recall, the spies returned with the message that the land was good, but the people were strong and their towns fortified. The spies convince the people that they cannot fight the inhabitants of Canaan. “We were like grasshoppers in our own eyes,” they said, “and thus we also seemed to them.”

In Numbers, the story is confusing. Why did Gd want the people to spy out the land in the first place? When the spies said that the people were strong and their cities were fortified, weren’t they just doing their job? Were the people wrong to believe the spies? Shouldn’t the ones who actually saw the land be entitled to their opinions? 

In Devarim, Moses contextualizes the story very differently. The people wanted to send spies. The spies came back and said the land was good. Period. But the people did not have sufficient faith in Gd, and so they did not go up. Moses takes an ambiguous incident and, with his words, makes it a story of moral clarity. Whose fault was it? Doesn’t matter. Whose idea was it? Moses doesn’t care. Moses contextualizes the events, and the events take on a meaning and a message. The moral of Moses’ story, Moses’ words, is that we must have faith that Gd has a plan.

Moses also uses his words to explain to the people why he will not be going into the Promised Land with them.  גם בי התאנף ה’ בגללכם. “The Eternal was angry with me because of you.” Not because Moses himself had sinned. Because the people had sinned. Moses tells the people that Gd chose Joshua to replace Moses as leader, but he does not tell them that the replacement was Moses’ idea. What is behind the new context that Moses gives all of these stories?

Every change that Moses makes in the stories is made to add moral clarity. Moses stresses the Israelites sins, Gd’s forgiveness, the possibilities inherit in faith, and the promises made to those who walk in the path of righteousness.

When we use our words to create a meaning for our actions, for what kind of meaning are we striving? Do we seek to to blame others for our mistakes? Do we try to make ourselves seem more important than we are? Or do we contextualize for the sake of others? 

Suppose a young man goes to the store to buy groceries for his grandmother. That’s a good thing to do. If he tells her he did it because he wants to save her trouble, because he worries about her driving on her own, or because he loves her, that adds meaning to the action. 

Suppose a businesswoman has the unpleasant task of firing an employee. If she tells him that he was a talented worker and he will be missed, that changes the context of the action.

Every time we describe something we did, or something that happened, we do it for a purpose. No one is a completely impartial narrator of events. With our deeds, we become actors in the world, hopefully doing good as often as possible. But with our words, we become more. We become creators of meaning. We become people with a vision of how the world should be. We become human. 

The Book of Devarim is only a book of words. Words do not feed the hungry. Words do not heal the sick. But words create meaning. And a world with meaning is a world in which there is value in feeding the hungry, a world in which there is a reason to heal the sick. 

May Gd grant us a sweet Shabbat, a day of joy, and an opportunity to use our words to create meaning for good. Shabbat shalom.