Love, The Shema, and Tu B’Av- V’etchanan 5785
Every night, my wife and kids and I have a ritual before bed. Maybe, if you’re a parent, you’ve done something similar. We help them brush their teeth and put on pajamas (which is sometimes a monumental feat in and of itself), and then we read with them in their room. After a few minutes, when the white noise machine is turned on and the blinds are pulled down, we help them cover their eyes and recite the Shema together. After that we chant the V’ahavta. I like to point to each part of their bodies as we mention them in that prayer, as well as mime the actions that we are commanded to do in that paragraph, which we chanted today in parshat V’etchanan.
The Shema isn’t really a prayer per se- it’s a theological statement. It’s among the first words we’re taught as children. We recite them twice daily as part of the morning and evening service, and they’re famously the last words we’re supposed to say before we die. We also recite them first thing in the morning; this is what we do immediately after the opening blessings in our service, as part of what’s known as kabbalat ol malchut shamayim– “acceptance of the yoke of the kingdom of heaven”, which consists of a benediction followed by the recitation of the Shema before Pesuki d’Zimra. I generally recite this in the morning when I’m walking the dog, even before I put on my tallit and tefillin and daven the rest of the morning service.
Additionally, we recite them before bed, as we do with our children. The liturgy of Kriat Shema al ha’mitah, or the “bedtime” Shema, is a beautiful selection of verses blessing God before we lie down to sleep.
Dr. Marc Brettler, a widely known and read biblical scholar, writes: “In [the framework of the V’ahavta], Israel is the child returning appropriate love to the loving, caring [parent]…in any event, it is quite odd to command a child to love a parent. It thus seems appropriate to understand this love in a different way.”
Since the relationship between G-d and B’nei Yisrael is a covenantal one, based on each party’s obligations to the other, Brettler writes: “‘Love’ here is therefore a technical term for acceptance of treaty obligations. In our case of Deuteronomy, the expected love is quite extreme. We are to ‘love’ G-d with all of our ‘mind, body and strength’; express this love by keeping the commandments in mind always (‘when you sit, walk about, lie down and stand up’); and instruct them to the next generation. We are expected also to surround body and house with reminders of them: ‘Bind them to your hand…and set them between your eyes…Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”
“Treaty obligations”, as Brettler terms them, may seem a harsh or clinical way to express love. However, it’s worth noting that this is not the only instance of love in a Jewish context being expressed this way. The ketubah, the Jewish marriage contract, in its traditional text lists in a matter of fact manner a husband’s obligations to his wife- the actions he must take to express his love for her, including food, clothing, and other necessities including intimate physical affection. Love, in all its manifestations, is mandated. We are commanded to love each other.
In his introduction to his wonderful book “Judaism Is About Love”, my teacher Rabbi Shai Held writes:
“Judaism is not what you think it is. Judaism is about love. The Jewish tradition tells the story of a God of love who creates us in love and enjoins us, in turn, to live lives of love. We are commanded to love God, the neighbor, the stranger- and all of humanity- and we are told that the highest achievement of which we are capable is to live with compassion. This is considered nothing less than walking in God’s own ways.”
Tu B’Av, or the 15th of Av, is another manifestation of love in our tradition. This day, curiously, has no special ritual observances associated with it, except the omission of Tachanun if it falls out during the week. The Talmud, in tractate Ta’anit though, teaches some of the reasons why this day is such a special day in our calendar.
The Talmud teaches that Rav Yehudah said that Shmuel said that the 15th of Av is the day when it was permitted for members of the different tribes to intermarry. Additionally, it’s taught that Rav Yosef said that Rav Nachman said that this is the day when the tribe of Benjamin was welcomed back into the congregation of B’nai Yisrael after the tragic incident at Gibeah described in the book of Judges.
Going further, Rabba bar bar Hannah said that Rabbi Yochanan said that this was the day when the deaths of the Israelites in the wilderness ceased, when the old generations were washed away so that their offspring could enter the promised land. Ulla said: The fifteenth of Av was the day on which King Hoshea, son of Ela, canceled the guards that Jeroboam, son of Nevat, placed on the roads so that the Jews would not ascend to Jerusalem for their festivals.
There is another striking, less well-known reason for marking this day, which is sorrowfully extremely relevant for us today: Rav Mattana said: There was an additional salvation on this day, as it was the day that the slain bodies of Beitar were brought to burial, several years after the battle at Beitar against the Romans led by Bar Kochba.
Tu B’Av was also the day when those who cut down trees for the perpetual fire on the altar in the Temple stopped their work, since the coffers of wood were full and bringing further wood would not allow it to dry properly. And finally, the most widely-known reason for celebration on Tu B’Av is it being the start of the yearly grape harvest, without which we would not have wine or grape juice to make kiddush, which is present at every joyful occasion for us. At the start of the harvest on this day, all of the eligible young men and women of Jerusalem would go out to the vineyards, and the women would wear white clothes and dance while the men proffered marriage proposals. To this day, Tu B’Av (when it doesn’t fall on Shabbat) is a major day for holding weddings and is a day of celebration.
We are commanded to always be in a posture of love towards others, which I admit may be hard at times. In our house, when our kids misbehave, my wife and I have a phrase that we say to each other: “I always love them, but I don’t always like them.” There is a great difference between the two; although we may not always feel affectionate towards someone, it does not mean that we don’t love them. We are even commanded to give tochecha, or rebuke someone’s behavior to them, from a place of love. We warn someone not to do something out of spite or animosity, but rather because we love them and don’t want them to stray.
Today, in addition to the romantic love of my spouse and parental love for my children, I’m thinking of other types of love, all of which can be complicated at times. I’m thinking of parental love (yesterday my parents celebrated their 43rd anniversary). I’m thinking of the love I have for my close friends, whom I haven’t seen in a long while and am hoping to see soon during a quick trip to New York. The love for my country here and for Israel, which despite my current stark disagreement with their respective governments I still believe have the potential to live up to the ideals I want them to embody. The love I have for our natural world, which during my runs and walks and other times outside lately I’ve appreciated and loved more than before.
All of these modes of love are encapsulated in the Shema, our most profound liturgical statement about the love between us and G-d. The love for God, love for our children, love for the natural world- it’s all there. When we say the Shema, we realize anew that G-d loves us; and because of this divine love, we are in turn commanded to act accordingly and lead lives of love.
If you look at how the Shema is written both in a Torah scroll and in our chumash, the letter ayin in the word “Shema” and the letter dalet in the word “Echad” are written larger than the other letters. These two letters form the word Eid, meaning “witness”. We are witnesses to G-d’s uniqueness and love, and witnesses to the love amongst ourselves. Let us keep being witnesses for both divine and human love, which the tradition teaches can look like so many actions of goodwill. Love, as my teacher Rabbi Held writes, is truly the basis for living a Jewish life. May we continue to love each other, our world, and the Divine and grow ever closer to G-d through the love we engender.
