Shabbat Shalom: Parshat Re'eh (Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17)
By Shlomo Riskin

Efrat, Israel - "Behold, I present before you this day a blessing and a curse; the blessing when you hearken to the commandments of the Lord your G-d… and the curse if you do not hearken to the commandments of the Lord your G-d…" (Deuteronomy 11:26-28)

There are three important and fascinating issues which emanate from these verses. The reader will note that I translated the very first verb in the opening verse, "present" (Hebrew, notein), as in the noun "present" or "gift" (Hebrew, Matana, the noun built from the verb naton) One can well understand the positive elements of a blessing, but how can the Biblical text refer to a curse as a blessing? And clearly, what the Almighty is giving or presenting "on this day" are both a curse as well as a blessing!?

The second issue is the fact that the blessings and curses referred to here are more specifically delineated later on in the Biblical text (Deuteronomy 27:11 -28), within the context of the planned entry of the Israelites into the Land of Israel. Indeed, this is the third covenant, in addition to the national covenant which G-d made with Abraham when He promised our founding patriarch children and a homeland (Genesis 15), and the religious covenant which G-d made with the Israelite nation when He revealed to them the Torah at Sinai (Exodus 20). It is called the covenant of mutual responsibility, of co-signership, by the Sages of the Talmud (B.T. Sotah 32, areivut, Hebrew) Why are the blessings and curses associated with our keeping or not keeping the Torah bound up specifically with the Land of Israel? Does this third covenant of areivut (co-signership) not apply equally to the Jews living in the diaspora communities?

And finally, this third covenant is dramatized around two majestic mountains near Shekem: six of the tribes ascend Mount Gerizim, the other six ascend Mount Eybal, and the priests, Levites and Holy Ark remain below between the mountains. The Levites turn first towards Mount Gerizim with the blessings and then towards Mount Eybal with the curses, and with each pronouncement the Israelites atop the mountains respond Amen (B.T. Sotah, ibid., Deuteronomy 27:12, Rashi ad loc). What is the unique message of these mountains? After all, the very next verse in the opening portion of our Torah reading testifies as to the inextricable bond between this third covenant, the Land of Israel, and the two mountains: "And it will be when the Lord your G-d will take you to the land you have entered there to inherit, then you shall present the blessing on Mount Gerizim and the curse on Mount Eybal (Deuteronomy 11:29)." What is the connection?

Let us begin with the Divine gift or present of a blessing and a curse. I believe the Bible is teaching us that the greatest gift which the Almighty bestows upon humanity is the gift of freedom of will, the human possibility to choose between right action and wrong action, between perfecting the world or polluting the world. Undoubtedly built in within the very structure of free will is the possibility of one's taking the wrong path and bringing about the curse of destruction. However, without free-will, the human being would be no different from a rat in a maze, a mere puppet or pawn; with free will - despite its concomitant dangers - the human being is a partner to the Divine, "but slightly less than G-d, crowned with honor and glory; whose G-d -given task it is to perfect the world in the Kingship of the Divine.

Since Israel is the land set aside for the Israeli nation-state, the sovereign society which enables us to serve as a "beacon-light to the gentile nations," the back-drop of the Temple Mount from whence the message of ethical monotheism and a G-d of love, justice and peace will eventually be accepted by the world, the final expression of the success of our mission and the true gift of our free will can only come to fruition in Israel and Jerusalem. And since the task G-d has set for us and we have accepted for ourselves is a formidable one, fraught with danger and demanding enormous discipline and dedication, the best metaphor for our challenge is climbing to the top of a steep and rocky mountain. In the words of Rav Nachman, "The entire world is a very narrow bridge, (from which it is all too easy to fall into a deep abyss). But the essence is, not to be afraid." And when one succeeds in climbing a mountain like Grizim, Eybal or Everest, the "high" at the top, the sense of accomplishment and success, is a gift of satisfaction which has no equal.

A number of years ago, I truly understood the gift of our freedom of choice to fulfill our mission of "tikkun olam", the perfection of the world. One of our Yeshivot which combines Torah study and army service was under heavy enemy attack during this current Oslo War. Forty IDF soldiers and two tanks were protecting the Academy; each Thursday I gave our students a shiur (Torah lecture). One particular Thursday, one of the soldiers came in to hear my class; I noticed him immediately, not only because he took copious notes but mainly because he was very tall and very Black. In a discussion with him after class, he told me he came from Nigeria, his name was Dan, and he became Jewish because of "tikkin olam," his pronunciation of tikkun olam, the perfection of the world. He explained that when a delegation of Israel's 'Peace Corps to the Third World' came to Nigeria to impart new techniques in agriculture and medicine, he was befriended by one of them who happened to be an observant Jew. This "friend" taught him about "tikkun olam," invited him to visit Israel, and the rest is history.

I invited him to share Friday evening dinner with my family and me. He accepted for the following week - but never got to my home. He was killed in the line of duty by a Palestinian sniper's bullet. Only the Yeshiva attended his funeral at Mount Herzl cemetery; his family in Nigeria was informed, but never responded….

Three months later, my wife woke me up from a Shabbat afternoon nap and apologetically explained that I had important guests. I found a middle-aged black couple sitting in my living-room drinking tea, "We don't understand why our son came to Israel, we don't understand why our son converted to Judaism, and we don't understand why our son had to die. Everyone we asked said that you could tell us, that shortly before he was killed he had a long conversation with you…"

We spoke for more than three hours. A few months ago I was invited to the "hanukkat habayit" (house-dedication) of Dan's parents and put up the mezuzah. This amazing couple went to Ulpan Akiba to learn Hebrew, converted to Judaism, and now have made their home in Netanya. I hammered in the mezuzah; Dan's mother spoke. She said, "All my friends back home in Nigeria ask why we made such a move to such a dangerous place. There is only one reason: "tikkun olam."
 

Shabbat Shalom.