‘Landing in the Wind’ Parashat Nitzavim-Vayelech 5786
As Moshe prepares to take leave of the Jewish People, he paints a vivid picture of the future. The nation will be exiled from its land, suffer greatly, reflect upon its fate, and ultimately return to G-d. Then comes one of the most bizarre promises in the entire Torah [Devarim 30:7]: “G-d will circumcise your heart and the heart of your offspring, to love G-d with all your heart and with all your soul.” The phrase “circumcise your heart” demands explanation. According to Rashi[1], the “foreskin” of the heart is a kind of blockage, a covering that prevents a person from perceiving truth clearly. It is a spiritual filter that distorts reality through desire, fear, ego, and habit. This begs a question: Twenty chapters earlier, the Torah commands us [Devarim 10:13] “Circumcise the foreskin of your heart.” If circumcising the heart is our responsibility, why does G-d later promise to do it for us?
The Or HaChaim HaKadosh[2] deepens the mystery. Moshe has just told the Jewish People in the previous verse that they will repent. But if they have already repented, why is further intervention in the form of cardiac circumcision even required? To answer this question, we begin with one of the most basic principles of Judaism. The Talmud in Tractate Berachot [33b] teaches: “Everything is in the hands of Heaven except for the fear of Heaven”. Human beings possess free will. G-d may determine circumstances, opportunities, and challenges, but He will never force our moral choices. If so, then how can G-d promise to circumcise our hearts without violating the free will that so defines us?
This question is addressed by the Seforno[3], who explains that G-d’s future circumcision of our hearts does not remove free choice. Rather, it removes false perceptions. He asserts that G-d will eliminate the erroneous conceptions that prevent a person from recognizing truth. Once those blinders are removed, man realizes that everything G-d has done was motivated by His love and by His desire to sustain life. G-d is not changing our decisions. He is changing the quality of information upon which those decisions are based. The choice remains ours, but the filters that distort reality are removed. This distinction is crucial. Human beings make decisions based on our perception of reality. Two people can observe the same event and reach completely different conclusions because each of them processes the event through a different set of assumptions. For example, one person interprets adversity as randomness while another interprets it as providence. The inputs are identical but the outputs are radically different. The difference lies in the filters. Modern life is filled with such filters. Political ideology, social media, conventional wisdom, personal experience and a slew of other factors shape the way we understand the world. The Seforno teaches that the final redemption will not involve new information. Rather, that redemption will involve the removal of the distortions that prevent us from seeing what has been in front of us all along.
As an engineer, I find it useful to think about this through the lens of flight dynamics. You may have seen videos of large passenger jets on final approach in strong crosswinds. The aircraft appears to be flying sideways, aimed somewhere far off the edge of the runway. That is precisely what is happening. The wind is pushing the airplane laterally away from the runway, so the pilot intentionally points the nose into the wind in a manoeuvre called “crabbing”. The airplane’s control system continuously compensates for a disturbance to keep it tracking toward the runway centreline. Just before touchdown, the pilot kicks the rudder, straightens the aircraft, and lands normally. The mission succeeds because the control system cancels the effects of the crosswind. The wind continues to blow with the same force throughout the approach. The pilot recognizes its existence and compensates for it. The airplane lands safely not because conditions are favourable but because the pilot understands the conditions under which he must operate. Human beings face a similar challenge. We navigate through a world filled with competing pressures. Ambition pushes us in one direction. Fear pushes us in another. Public opinion, financial incentives, ego, and laziness all act as spiritual crosswinds. A righteous person is not the one who experiences no temptation. A righteous person is the one who recognizes temptation and compensates for it. Just as a pilot continuously adjusts his controls throughout an approach to remain aligned with the runway, a righteous person continuously adjusts his decisions to remain aligned with truth.
Actually, there is a far easier way to solve the problem. The pilot would not have to compensate for the wind if there was no wind. He would still fly the airplane. The runway would remain unchanged. Yet his mission would become far easier. This, I suggest, is the difference between man circumcising his heart and G-d circumcising his heart. Human beings live amid spiritual distortions that constantly push us away from the correct path. Every time we identify those distortions and choose correctly despite them, we are circumcising our own hearts. We are compensating for the crosswind. G-d, however, can assist without infringing upon our free will. He can eliminate the crosswinds. He can provide security, prosperity, stability, and clarity. The destination remains unchanged. He simply removes the environmental disturbances. We can now address our original questions. Man is commanded to overcome distortions through repentance. In return, G-d then promises Divine assistance. First we must demonstrate that we are willing to fight the crosswinds. Then, and only then, G-d calms the storm.
There is, nevertheless, one remaining danger. Sometimes G-d circumcises a person’s heart and the person does not notice. The external conditions improve but he continues behaving as though nothing has changed. A pilot who keeps compensating for a crosswind that no longer exists will drift away from the runway centreline. The Jewish People have experienced profound changes in recent years. Assumptions that once seemed self-evident have been shattered. New realities, new opportunities, and new responsibilities have emerged. One of the lessons of October 7 is that strategic assumptions can become obsolete overnight. Ideas that seemed reasonable on October 6 suddenly appeared dangerously flawed. The challenge is not merely to recognize when circumstances deteriorate – it is to recognize when circumstances improve, as well. A person can become so accustomed to compensating for yesterday’s problems that he continues doing so even after those problems have disappeared. Habits that once reflected prudence can become obstacles when conditions change.
This insight applies not only on a national scale, but on an individual scale, as well. We all carry assumptions about ourselves that were formed years or even decades ago. Some people continue viewing themselves as powerless long after they have acquired strength. Others continue viewing themselves as isolated long after help has become available. G-d may remove obstacles from our path, provide new opportunities, or create conditions that make growth easier, but none of that matters if we continue operating according to an outdated map of reality. Circumcision of the heart requires not only the courage to change our behaviour but also the humility to recognize that the world around us may have changed as well. The great promise is not that G-d will make our choices for us. The promise is far more subtle. If we are willing to return to G-d even when the winds are strong, He will help us see clearly. He will remove the blinders. He will calm those crosswinds. G-d will take care of the final approach. The landing, however, will always remain ours.
Shabbat Shalom,
Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5786
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Rachel bat Malka, Iris bat Chana, Sheindel Devora bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Meir ben Drora, Golan ben Marcelle and Hodayah Emunah bat Shoshana Rachel.
[1] Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known by his acronym “Rashi,” was the most eminent of the medieval commentators. He lived in northern France in the 11th century.
[2] Rabbi Chaim ben Atar, better known as the “Or HaChaim HaKadosh”, lived in Morocco and in Israel in the first half of the 17th century
[3] Rabbi Ovadia ben Jacob Seforno, known as “The Seforno”, lived in Italy at the turn of the 16th century.
