Parshas Vzos Habracha
A Leader’s Emergency Chord 1
The last pasuk of the Torah amounts to a peculiar epitaph for Moshe.
Rashi sees references to his physically receiving the luchos from Hashem,
his role in the wondrous miracles in the wilderness, and his breaking of
the luchos upon seeing Bnei Yisrael dancing in front of the Golden Calf.
It seems initially to be a strange and incomplete summation of Moshe’s
illustrious career, made stranger yet by including his smashing of the
luchos on the short list – and apparently the crowning, ultimate one - of
his accomplishments. Moreover, the need for this summary is itself
perplexing. The Torah serves primarily as a manual of instruction to us,
guiding us in important life issues. Of what value is it to us for the
Torah to choose these three activities as the defining elements of Moshe’s
leadership? 2
We begin answering the question by posing a different question. “Never
again has there arisen in Israel a prophet like Moshe, whom Hashem had
known face to face.”3 How can
speaking “face to face” jibe with the Torah’s insistence elsewhere 4that “no human can see My face and live?”
These verses do not conflict with each other, because they describe
different phenomena. No human indeed can “see” Hashem. The face to face
knowing can be understood in the context of Moshe’s special midah of
da’as, meaning the ability to cling to Hashem. (This meaning of da’as
parallels the first usage of the word, “And Adam knew/ yada his wife
Chavah.”)5
Moshe succeeded in maintaining absolute connection with Hashem, of not
allowing for a lapse in that connection for an instance. Moreover, part
of his avodah was relating this devekus to Bnei Yisrael in a way that
would penetrate to their core and make it part of them. He did this by
demonstrating how people could remain constant in their devekus, how all
situations and conditions offered ways to stay attached to Him. No set of
circumstances, no matter how difficult or lowly, precludes devekus.
We have thus arrived at an explanation of the Torah’s last pesukim, which
can be understood as an inventory of the extremes of the human condition
in relation to devekus. At times, a Jew can easily sense the greatness of
the Creator. Other times do not lend themselves to such feelings; instead
what he senses is his own lowliness. Devekus, though, is possible at all
times.
“All the signs and wonders that Hashem sent him [Moshe] to perform in the
land of Egypt.” Trapped and mired in Egypt both physically and
spiritually, we were at the nadir of our history as a people. Moshe
succeeded in lifting our spirits, and inspiring us to the point of
devekus. (This dovetails with the Torah’s explanation of Hashem’s
orchestrating the dramatic and wondrous events at the crossing of the Reed
Sea. The Torah writes, “And Egypt will know that I am Hashem.” 6 On the level of interpretation that the
word “know” alludes to devekus, what relevance does it have to the
Egyptians? The Degel Machaneh Ephraim explains that the reference to Egypt
and Egyptians should be understood as the Egyptian-like qualities that had
become part of our lives at that time. Moshe’s devekus was so deep and
profound, that he was able to implant some of it within us, even at a time
that our spiritual fabric was threadbare.
The “strong Hand” of the next verse refers to Moshe’s role at Sinai. There
we stood at the polar opposite point on a spiritual continuum. It was our
greatest moment of triumph, and we achieved, once again through the
stewardship of Moshe, our deepest experience of devekus ever. We connected
with Hashem so deeply that we were able to fathom the real meaning of
Hashem’s Oneness. “You have been shown in order to know that Hashem , He
is your G-d. There is none besides Him.” 7 The last phrase pithily conveys the outer limits of what Man
can know – and only considerable effort – about the nature of G-d’s
Oneness.8 It is significant – and
anticipated by our thesis in this piece! – that the verb we find in this
verse is “know,” once again alluding to devekus.
The next phrase, “and awesome power,” refers to the miracles that
sustained us throughout the years of travels in the wilderness. The Torah
describes it as a place of “snakes, fiery serpents, and scorpions;”9 metaphorically we understand those to
allude to the most potent and formidable forces of tumah that Man is
forced to encounter. Here, too, Moshe instilled in Bnei Yisrael the
recognition that within the tension and struggle with the countervailing
forces to kedushah, Man could still find devekus.
The Torah saves Moshe’s greatest accomplishment for the end. The luchos
were “G-d’s handiwork, and the script was the script of G-d.”10 Can anyone – even Moshe – “break” a
Divinely-created article? We must understand that the luchos represented
the bond between Hashem and Klal Yisrael; breaking them meant severing
that bond. Moshe communicate in that frightful act, and without the
benefit of words, that the element of specialness that Hashem had bestowed
upon His people had been removed. The relationship was over. For this
reason the Torah emphasizes, “before the eyes of all Israel.” Moshe needed
a way to to impress them with a message, and he had only seconds in which
to try. He found it in the breaking of the luchos,
This says a great deal about Moshe. What Moshe saw when he descended form
the top of Sinai would have overwhelmed a lesser leader, and led him to
despair of any remedy for his people. Moshe saw a people not only guilty
of a heinous crime, but gleeful in celebratory dancing. What words of
rebuke could he bring to a people fully satisfied with itself?
Moshe broke the luchos. With this he broke their hearts, which was fully
his intention. Broken-hearted, they could begin to travel back on the
long road of teshuvah. (Note that Hashem refers to them as “your people”
and “the people,” until the effects of Moshe’s action set in. When “the
people heard the bad tiding and … became grief-stricken,” 11 the Torah resumes referring to them by their more
honorable title of Bnei Yisrael.) The success of that teshuvah would hinge
on the degree of brokenness they felt, which in turn hinged on how aware
they were of the enormity of their crime.
This was Moshe’s finest hour as a teacher of devekus. Where others would
have given up in futility or helplessness, Moshe knew exactly what to do
to rescue his people, and to help them regain devekus lost. We would not
be here today were it not for that lesson.
The Torah’s messages are always for all times. Here, in this final verse
and in its final mesasage, the Torah emphasizes to us that every person
can find a way to attach him- or herself to Hashem in each and every
condition and situation that he find himself in.
As the Torah ends, so is its beginning. Bereishis can be read as beis –
reishis. Two very different paths stand before us in our pursuit of our
desired goal. They are shomayim and aretz, heaven and earth. A person can
motivate himself to move ahead through reflecting upon the Heavens – upon
the lofty grandeur of Hashem. Understanding eretz, earthliness, will take
him there as well. Honest recognition of our own smallness and
insignificance can easily become our greatness. 12
1 Based on Nesivos Shalom pgs. 226-229
2 They are not presented to instruct us in some moral lesson
implicit in those incidents, since they were fully described by the Torah
earlier. Rating them as the “top three” doesn’t seem to teach us anything.
3 Devarim 34:10
4 Shemos 20:33
5 Bereishis 4:1
6 Shemos 14:4
7 Devarim 4:35
8 Da’as Tevunos of the Ramchal essentially turns this phrase
into the central motif of his sefer – and the goal of the unfolding of
history!
9 Devarim 8:15
10 Shemos 32:16
11 Shemos 33:4
12 The Kotzker used to say, “Nothing is as whole as a broken
heart.”
Text Copyright © 2008 by Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein and Torah.org