Edited and Adapted from Ari’s Grill & Torah
Hey, people, what’s going on? It’s Friday afternoon, and it’s time for some Grill and Torah.
This week’s parsha is an absolute powerhouse. It is all about Am Yisrael, the Land of Israel, and the secret of succeeding in the Land of Israel as the nation of Israel.
Those of us living in Israel are constantly asking ourselves: How do we succeed here? How do we gain the world’s respect? How do we achieve peace? How do we stop the killing of Jews and others in this country?
This week’s parsha gives us the answers.
Parshat Va’etchanan is read on Shabbat Nachamu, the Shabbat immediately following Tisha B’Av. After the mourning and destruction of Tisha B’Av, the prophet tells us, “Nachamu, nachamu ami”—“Be comforted, be comforted, My people.” Everything will ultimately be okay. Jerusalem will be rebuilt.
And we are seeing that happen in our days.
What Moshe Could Only See
It is unbelievable to realize that we live in a generation that merits to do what Moshe Rabbeinu himself was not permitted to do.
At the beginning of the parsha, Moshe Rabbeinu begs HaKadosh Baruch Hu: “Please let me enter the Land of Israel. I want to see it. I want to be there.”
God tells him no.
Moshe may climb the mountain and look at the Land, but he will not set foot inside it.
Yet here we are, living in the Land of Israel. I am standing here in the middle of Judea, surrounded by the beautiful hills of Israel, doing what Moshe Rabbeinu was not allowed to do.
It is an unbelievable merit to be here.
HaKadosh Baruch Hu then tells Moshe concerning Yehoshua:
“וְחַזְּקֵהוּ וְאַמְּצֵהוּ, כִּי הוּא יַעֲבֹר לִפְנֵי הָעָם הַזֶּה, וְהוּא יַנְחִיל אוֹתָם אֶת הָאָרֶץ.”
“Strengthen him and give him courage, because he will cross before this nation, and he will cause them to inherit the Land.”
The parsha is then filled with Moshe Rabbeinu’s instructions to Bnei Yisrael. He tells them what they must do in the Land of Israel to ensure that their settlement of the Land is successful and that the Land does not throw them out.
The Land of Israel was not simply handed to us with the message, “Here it is. Do whatever you want.”
No.
It was given to us on condition.
The Secret of Earning the World’s Respect
Moshe tells Bnei Yisrael:
“וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם וַעֲשִׂיתֶם, כִּי הִוא חָכְמַתְכֶם וּבִינַתְכֶם לְעֵינֵי הָעַמִּים.”
“You shall safeguard and perform them, for this is your wisdom and understanding in the eyes of the nations.”
Throughout history, Jews have sometimes tried to gain the acceptance of the nations by becoming more like them.
The Reform movement began in Germany with the desire to merge Judaism with German culture. Its leaders wanted to be fully German while somehow retaining elements of Judaism. References to Zion and the Land of Israel were removed from their prayer books, and Berlin was called their new Jerusalem.
Why did they do this?
They did not do it because they hated Jews. They did it because they wanted to be welcomed into German society. They believed that if Jews became just like the Germans, the Germans would have no reason to hate them.
The Torah tells us the opposite.
Moshe says:
“I have taught you the statutes and laws exactly as Hashem commanded me, so that you may act accordingly in the Land that you are entering to inherit.”
Then he tells us to safeguard those laws because:
“כִּי הִוא חָכְמַתְכֶם וּבִינַתְכֶם לְעֵינֵי הָעַמִּים.”
That is our wisdom and understanding in the eyes of the nations.
Our natural instinct says that if we give up our customs and become more like everyone else, the world will love us. If the United Nations or UNESCO lies about us, perhaps we should compromise a little and show them that we are part of the international community.
The Torah says, “No way.”
When we stand up for who we are and remain loyal to the Torah, the nations will look at us and say:
“רַק עַם חָכָם וְנָבוֹן, הַגּוֹי הַגָּדוֹל הַזֶּה.”
“Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people.”
That does not mean everyone is perfect. I am certainly not claiming that I, or anyone else, keeps the entire Torah perfectly.
There is one thing called keeping the Torah, which we should try to do, and another thing called advocating that we should keep it.
Not everyone is perfect, but at least admit that we should be keeping it.
That is the first lesson of the parsha: If we want the world to respect us, we must know who we are.
If we do not know who we are, the world will never respect us.
We do not gain respect by conforming to whatever the world currently says. We gain respect by standing up for who we are and understanding what we represent.
Unity Does Not Mean Sameness
This lesson applies nationally, but it also applies personally.
Judaism does not teach that everyone must look the same, speak the same or behave in precisely the same way. There were twelve tribes, and each tribe was different. They were different in the way they spoke, the way they looked, their characteristics and their traits.
What unified them was not sameness. What unified them was the Torah.
I used to explain that Judaism is like an orchestra. If everyone plays the drums, you do not have music. You have noise.
One person plays the piano. Another plays the guitar. Another plays the drums. Each instrument sounds different, but together they create music.
Unity does not mean that everyone is identical.
The twelve tribes were different, but they were united under one Torah.
That is the first piece of advice the Torah gives us about succeeding in the Land of Israel: Do not conform to the morals and demands of the world. Know who you are and remain faithful to the Torah.
No Peace Treaty With Evil
The parsha then addresses our relationship with the nations that inhabited the Land:
“לֹא תִכְרֹת לָהֶם בְּרִית, וְלֹא תְחָנֵּם.”
“You shall not make a covenant with them, nor show them favor.”
This sounds difficult. Peace—shalom—is one of the names of God. How can the Torah, which values peace so greatly, tell us not to make a covenant with them?
The answer is that the Torah is not simply speaking about individual people. It is speaking about their morals and the culture upon which they are built.
There can be no peace treaty with evil.
According to Judaism, peace in the Land of Israel is possible when Jews and non-Jews accept, first of all, that the Land of Israel belongs to the Jewish people, and they accept the seven Noahide laws.
But when a culture openly rejects the morality that God intended for the world, we cannot make peace with that culture’s immorality.
The Torah continues:
“מִזְבְּחֹתֵיהֶם תִּתֹּצוּן, וּמַצֵּבֹתָם תְּשַׁבֵּרוּ, וַאֲשֵׁירֵהֶם תְּגַדֵּעוּן, וּפְסִילֵיהֶם תִּשְׂרְפוּן בָּאֵשׁ.”
“You shall break down their altars, smash their monuments, cut down their sacred trees and burn their idols in fire.”
This is not permission to attack people merely because they think differently from us. I am certainly not telling anyone to go out and destroy anything today.
The point is not only to break down the physical altars. The point is that we cannot accept their idol worship.
If they say, “We are no longer going to bow down to idols. We are no longer going to worship false gods and spit in the face of the real Creator,” then peace is possible.
But the culture itself must be destroyed—not because we merely disagree with it, but because we believe in objective truth, not relative truth.
When we come to the Land of Israel, we cannot make treaties with people who believe in a morality that contradicts the morality God wants for us.
Neville Chamberlain wanted peace with Hitler. He returned from Munich declaring “peace for our time.”
Churchill understood that peace with evil is not peace. In a remark attributed to Churchill, he told Chamberlain:
“You had a choice between war and dishonor. You chose dishonor, and you will have war.”
There are times when compromising with evil does not prevent war. It merely strengthens evil and postpones the war until the enemy is better prepared.
When Prosperity Makes Us Forget
The Torah then warns Bnei Yisrael about a different danger.
They will enter the Land and find beautiful cities they did not build, houses filled with wealth, wells they did not dig, and vineyards they did not plant.
When they enjoy that prosperity, they must not forget HaKadosh Baruch Hu.
They must not forget who gave them the Land and to whom they owe their loyalty.
The Torah repeatedly tells us that if we abandon God’s laws, we will be expelled. The Land of Israel cannot tolerate that kind of immorality.
And Jews are not immune.
If we do not maintain the standards HaKadosh Baruch Hu demands of us, we will not be able to continue living here.
Who Decides What Is Moral?
The third lesson appears in the following verse:
“וְעָשִׂיתָ הַיָּשָׁר וְהַטּוֹב בְּעֵינֵי ה’, לְמַעַן יִיטַב לָךְ, וּבָאתָ וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ הַטֹּבָה.”
“You shall do what is right and good in the eyes of Hashem, so that it will be good for you, and you will come and inherit the good Land.”
Why does the Torah say to do what is right and good “in the eyes of Hashem”?
In whose eyes should it be?
This verse is talking directly about moral relativism.
The Western world has many positive qualities, including its belief in freedom. But how does the Western world define freedom?
People may do whatever they want, provided they do not hurt someone else.
Once that becomes the only standard, all definitions can be erased and blurred, and man becomes the one who decides what is right and wrong.
When I speak to atheists, I sometimes ask them, “What is the foundation of your morality?”
They answer, “I do not need God in order to be moral.”
I agree. But I still want to understand the foundation of that morality.
Suppose I see someone’s car and decide that I want it. Why may I not kill him and take it?
Someone might answer, “Would you want someone to kill you?”
But suppose I am stronger and am not worried about anyone killing me. Why, on an objective level, may I not kill him?
The answer is usually, “Because society would fall apart.”
But why is preserving society necessarily a moral obligation? In nature, the strong survive at the expense of the weak.
We all know that murder is wrong. The question is why.
The Problem With Relative Morality
If there is no objective morality, then morality becomes subjective. Anyone can redefine it whenever it becomes convenient.
Some people say that society determines morality.
But what happens when society decides that murdering Jews, Gypsies, the disabled and homosexuals is acceptable? That happened in Europe.
Did society’s approval make those actions moral?
Of course not.
If society does not determine morality, perhaps each individual determines it for himself.
But if you may determine morality for yourself and I may determine morality for myself, on what basis may you condemn my moral choices?
Without an objective source, morality ultimately rests upon changing feelings, preferences and social expectations.
Empathy is important and wonderful. But empathy alone is still a human emotion. It is based upon personal feelings.
Human opinions change from society to society and from generation to generation.
The Romans and Greeks are often celebrated as the foundations of Western civilization and democracy. Yet they took poor people, the crippled and others, threw them into arenas with lions, and watched as they were torn apart for entertainment.
The crowds cheered.
Had we lived then, would we have possessed the moral clarity to say that this was wrong? And where would that moral clarity have come from?
Even what we call Western morality represents only one portion of the world. China, Africa and the Muslim world do not necessarily share Western assumptions.
We are the minority of the world.
If the majority defines morality, then we are in big trouble.
The Torah therefore tells us:
“וְעָשִׂיתָ הַיָּשָׁר וְהַטּוֹב בְּעֵינֵי ה’.”
Do what is right and good in the eyes of Hashem.
Do not allow your emotions, comfort or the changing standards of society to define morality.
Why God Created the Choice Between Good and Evil
That does not mean Judaism prohibits independent thought.
Knowing what is objectively right and wrong does not mean I do not think for myself. Once I know what is right and wrong, I still have the choice to choose between them.
That is my thought process, and according to Judaism, that is the reason the world was created.
People ask: Why did God create evil? Why did He create the yetzer hara, the evil inclination? Why is it often easier to do something wrong than to do something right?
The world was created so that human beings could build a relationship with HaKadosh Baruch Hu and receive His goodness.
But a genuine relationship cannot be forced.
If someone points a gun at another person and says, “Tell me you love me,” and the person responds, “I love you,” that is not love.
Love and relationship require choice.
In order for us to choose good, evil must exist as an alternative.
But in order to choose between good and evil, we need clarity about what good and evil actually are.
Good cannot simply be whatever I find comfortable or whatever society currently approves. It must be defined by an objective source.
That does not mean that every person who does not believe in God is immoral. Thank God, most of Western civil law runs parallel to Torah law. You cannot kill. You cannot steal. And that is wonderful.
The conflict arises when society changes its definitions.
What happens when American law suddenly says, “You know what? It is your right to kill a fetus,” and Judaism says, “No, you cannot do that”?
What is real morality? Is it what society decides, or is it what the Torah decides?
For me, the answer is clear.
The Torah determines morality.
Society may call that primitive. I am willing to accept that.
Thirty years from now, society may redefine morality again. I will still remain loyal to the morality I know from the Torah, because that morality is objective. It does not depend upon my emotions or upon society’s current comfort level.
If we want to inherit and remain in the Land that HaKadosh Baruch Hu promised to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, we must do what is right in the eyes of God—not simply what seems right in our own eyes.
Shema Is a Proclamation
This week’s parsha also contains the Shema:
“שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל, ה’ אֱלֹקֵינוּ, ה’ אֶחָד.”
“Hear, O Israel: Hashem is our God; Hashem is One.”
The Shema is not a prayer.
It is a statement. It is a proclamation.
It is our declaration that there is only one God in the world.
Throughout Jewish history, Jews facing death recited the Shema. During the Holocaust, Jews being led to their deaths declared, “Shema Yisrael.” Rabbi Akiva recited the Shema while the Romans tortured him to death.
Why?
Because the Shema says, “I accept one God.”
Even when a person is about to die, he makes that statement and accepts God at the worst possible time.
Rabbi Akiva had spent his entire life waiting to fulfill the words:
“בְּכָל נַפְשְׁךָ.”
“With all your soul.”
Our Sages explain that this means loving God even when one’s soul is being taken.
Even when his life was on the line, Rabbi Akiva continued to declare his faith in HaKadosh Baruch Hu.
Three Keys to Remaining in the Land
That is the central message of Parshat Va’etchanan.
After Tisha B’Av, we read the words of comfort: Jerusalem will be rebuilt.
We are witnessing that rebuilding in our time.
But if we want to survive as a nation and a people in the Land of Israel, we must understand three things.
First, we must know who we are.
We must understand what the Jewish people are doing in the Land of Israel. We are not here merely to live the same lives we could have lived anywhere else in the world.
That is not what this is for.
According to the Torah, we are only here in the Land of Israel because of the Torah. Without the Torah, we have no right here.
Second, we must understand what we are doing here.
We must build a Jewish society rooted in the purpose for which the Land was given to us. We cannot make peace with cultures of evil or surrender our values in exchange for promises of temporary acceptance.
Third, we must know how to define morality.
Morality cannot be whatever I feel or whatever society happens to approve at a particular moment.
“וְעָשִׂיתָ הַיָּשָׁר וְהַטּוֹב בְּעֵינֵי ה’.”
Only what is right and good in the eyes of Hashem is morality.
Compassion Is Not Acceptance
That does not mean that we start hanging people or punishing people ourselves.
Torah law requires a Supreme Court—the Sanhedrin—which does not exist today. Even when it did exist, they did everything they could never, ever to carry out the death penalty.
There is also a crucial difference between having compassion for someone who has done something wrong and accepting the person’s actions or giving him credit for those actions.
Many people have difficulty distinguishing between those two things.
We must never attack someone because of his tendencies, beliefs or way of life. If I see someone being attacked, I will step forward to defend him.
But defending a person from violence does not require me to accept his ideas of morality.
We must debate ideas strongly while treating people with basic dignity.
So those are the three keys: Know who you are. Know what you are doing in the Land of Israel. Know how morality is defined.
If we do those things, the nations will respect us, we will live securely and happily in this country, and the Land will not kick us out.
Nothing else will work.
I do not want to reach a point where I have to say, “I told you so.”
Chosen Because We Are Small
The Torah then reminds us that HaKadosh Baruch Hu did not choose us because we were the largest or strongest nation:
“לֹא מֵרֻבְּכֶם מִכָּל הָעַמִּים חָשַׁק ה’ בָּכֶם וַיִּבְחַר בָּכֶם, כִּי אַתֶּם הַמְעַט מִכָּל הָעַמִּים.”
“It was not because you were more numerous than all the nations that Hashem desired you and chose you, for you are the smallest of all the nations.”
Why is that important?
If we outnumbered the Arabs ten to one and won a war, no one would be impressed. We would have won because we were larger and stronger.
But when a tiny nation defeats six nations, each far larger than itself, that victory reveals something greater.
It is the story of Chanukah: the strong delivered into the hands of the weak, and the many into the hands of the few.
HaKadosh Baruch Hu did not choose us because we are large. He chose us because we are small.
Fear Begins When Faith Is Lost
Fear can only come when we lose faith.
You can be nervous, but fear comes when we lose faith and stop accepting that there is a plan for everything.
I do not know what that plan is.
But we must remember who we are, why we are here, and what HaKadosh Baruch Hu expects of us.
Whether you are Jewish or not, shut off the pinging and ringing of the phones and computers for a while. Spend time with your family and friends. Focus on what is genuinely important. Get some rest and reconnect with the people around you.
Shabbat Shalom, and God bless from the beautiful, stunning rolling hills of Judea, Israel.