Sing with me

It is no coincidence that we restart the Torah reading cycle after Sukkos. Sure, we are almost an entire month into the new year, but it is only once we’ve done the avoda of the Tishrei chagim, that we can now approach the Torah with a new perspective. Hopefully the focus and growth that we’ve fostered over the last year, but in particular throughout our experiences of Tishrei, can guide us to relate to the Torah with a new perspective. Even though we are reading the same parshios as we have for many years now, every time we start the cycle again, we are given a fresh start. This year is different from the years that came before it because we are a year older, wiser, and more developed. A year of new experiences brings the opportunity to see things from a different vantage point, because we are not who we were last year. We are not who we were before Tishrei.

This year, I decided to focus my attention on the haftoras. Though the origins of reading the haftoras along with the weekly parsha readings are somewhat vague and disputed, one suggestion is that when Jews were forbidden to study the 5 books of Torah, the chachamim replaced the weekly parsha with a corresponding excerpt from Navi.

In Yeshaya 42, the haftorah for Parshas Bereshis, the navi speaks a lot about the world being plunged into darkness and he calls upon Yisrael to be the light unto the nations.
He describes the inhabitants of the world as being blind and imprisoned, but who will ultimately see the light and the glory of Hashem, if Yisrael does his job. He then urges us to sing a new song, a song that will be sung at the final geula. This week, I found that aside from complimenting the parsha, the haftorah also sheds light on the parsha itself (pun intended).

Bereshis is where it all begins. It is the parsha that gives us the most insight into Hashem and into ourselves. It establishes for us how Hashem created the world, and through that, we learn why Hashem created the world, and what our job is in it.

In the very first passuk, when we learn of Hashem creating the world, the Torah doesn’t actually call it that. We are told that Hashem created the shamayim and the eretz, two separate entities. My father, Rav Simcha Baer Shlita explains that Hashem intentionally created two separate spheres to leave us a place to partner with Him in the creation. Our job is to fuse the spiritual aspects of creation with the spiritual until they become one. There is great discussion amongst generations of scholars of how we are meant to go about this.

In Bereshis Raba 1, we learn that Hashem looked into the Torah and created our world. When Hashem decided to create a physical world for us, He took the truth of Torah and translated it into the language of physics. That is to say, every reality, every law of physics, every blade of grass, is an expression of the truth of Torah. Because of this, it is possible for us to learn and glean Torah from our surroundings, and in fact that is what our great ancestors did before Matan Torah. If you consider that Hashem created us with the intention for us to transform the world He gave us, it makes perfect sense that He chose physics to be the platform through which we achieve this. The distinctive property of physics is that things must always change. Nothing stays as it is and is always in a state of motion. This invested our world with the disposition necessary for us to affect it in the way Hashem had planned. This is also the reality of relationships. They too are always moving forward with nurturing, or decomposing with neglect. This is also why the foundation for physics is centered around the theory of relativity. Everything is seen in the context of relationships. Because the world was founded on the basis of relationships, our lives revolve around them.

When we consider what is most important in our lives, and what we are most willing to sacrifice for, it usually comes down to our relationships. Our relationships have the ability to give us the most joy and conversely the most anguish. In short, they hold immense potential. The positive relationships that we have in our lives are the ones that make life worth living. Relationships give us the opportunity for legacy here in this world, whether it be through our children (an obvious outcome of a relationship), or our good deeds, which are the testaments to the relationships we have had with fellow men.

If we can develop positive relationships with the people in our lives, we can exercise those skills in order to apply them to the ultimate relationship- that of ours with Hashem. I believe that it is through engaging in a relationship with Hashem, that we are able to bring the world to its complete state.

Ideally, the relationships that bring us the most joy are the mutual ones. The kind of relationship that emerges out of a constant give and give that propels both parties closer to one another. The obvious hurdle when one attempts to have a two sided relationship with Hashem is the issue of what we can possibly offer to Him. How do we make this relationship reciprocal?

David Hamelech teaches us through his Tehillim that the one thing we always have to offer Hashem is our thanks. Our acknowledgements of Hashem and the things that He does for us here on this earth brings forth the kiddush Hashem that Hashem created the world for. This simple act has the capacity to make everything worthwhile.

David honed this ability through the genes he inherited from his great ancestors Leah and Yehuda. The Gemara in Brachos daf 7a tells us that when Leah named Yehuda- she was the first person to ever thank Hashem. Later when Yehuda acknowledges that Tamar was right, Breishis Rabba 98:6 explains that it is because of this that his brothers will all be called Yehudim. It is part of our makeup, our defining quality.

David, who lived to acknowledge and thank Hashem, specifically chose to express his thanks through music. In fact, before we lost them, each perek of Tehillim was set to a specific tune. When we recite Tehillim, the goal is to connect to Hashem with all of ourselves- our bodies and our souls. The body expresses itself through the text, and the soul through the melody. Rav Hirsch explains in his commentary to Bamidbar that words are not adequate to express the emotion of being overcome with the awareness of Hashem. He says, “Let this emotion find proper expression also in music.”

The Midrash Tanchuma on Parshas Beshalach tells us that there will be 10 songs that Bnai Yisrael sing, and that the final song will be the song of Mashiach. This is the song that Yeshaya alludes to in our haftorah.

The first song ever sung was Shir ShelShabbos, which we know as Tehillim 92, written and sung first, by Adam Harishon. On the passuk Tov Lehodos L’Hashem, the Midrash Tehillim explains how important it is to thank and acknowledge Hashem. The next passuk begins with Ali Assur, a reference to a ten stringed instrument. On this detail, the midrash explains that all testimony comes in 10s. The harp that David played was played with ten, the testimony of a dead person is given with ten, bris milah is done with ten, the blessing of Hashem’s name is given with ten, and the testimony of the redemption of a property is given with ten.

This midrash got me thinking. What other tens are related?

The Mishna in Avos tells us that Hashem created the world with 10 statements. Presumably, this was the first 10. If this is the first ten, and we know that the 10th song will be the final ten, maybe there is a connection between the two sets of 10?

The first 10 mamaros got our world started (Bereshis), and the 10 songs bring it to completion (Yeshaya!!!). How does this work?
Tehillim 19 proclaims- Hashamayim misaprim kvodo. The point of the world is to declare Hashem’s glory. There is no greater way to declare Hashem’s glory than by validating His creation. What if the way we are mashlim the briyah is by responding to each one of Hashem’s 10 mamoros with shira? Just like the Jews at the Yum Suf were spontaneously inspired to respond to Hashem’s revelation with song, maybe each of the mamaros needs that validation. Once they have all been validated, Mashiach can come.

But I’m jumping ahead. Let’s go back to Bereshis for a second. When Adam despairs of being mesaken for his chait on his own, he gifts David with 70 years of his life. But this wasn’t just a free gift. It came along with a declaration. Adam says, “This beautiful one, I present him with sovereignty and songs of praise for the seventy years of his life that he should sing before you.” (Yalkut Shemoni Bereshit 41)

Really? Adam is giving up his life for the sake of song?

The highest form of praise of Hashem is when all of His creations work in harmony to do exactly that which they were created to do. This is the greatest testament of Hashem’s glory, and the greatest validation of His creation of the world.

Think of an orchestra. Each musician knows his part flawlessly. He understands exactly what he is meant to do, and when he is meant to do it, but it is up to the conductor to make sure that each musician is working together in perfect harmony. Even the most talented musician can ruin an entire symphony if his timing or tone is off. However, when the conductor manages to pull every musician together perfectly, the result is magnificent and mesmerizing.

Adam was the original conductor for the symphony that is our world. He met with each creature, assessed its function, and gave it its role with its name. But he lost control. He resigned his role as conductor to David, and instructed David to sing. Because of this gift, David became the sweet singer of Israel.

Now, it is up to us.

In the introduction to Perek Shira, it quotes the Yalkut Shemoni at the end of Tehillim that tells the following story:

At the end of David’s life he asks Hashem, “Does there exist any creature which you created anywhere in the entire universe which sings songs and praises which surpass mine?

At that moment, a frog chastises David and says, “Don’t be so proud of yourself. I sing songs and praises which surpass yours. Not just that, but I also perform a mitzvah. There is a creature on the seashore that draws its sustenance from the sea. When that creature is hungry, I present myself, and he eats me.

According to Perek Shira, the frog’s song is Baruch Shem Kevod. The frog recognizes its role in the world to the extent that it willingly gives its life to maintain the harmonious function of creation. He does not see himself as any more important than anyone else. He, perhaps more than any other creature represents a true commitment to emulating G-d’s glory in our world.

There is no greater testament to Hashem’s glory than us using the gifts that Hashem has bestowed upon us to take part in the orchestra of the world. The recognition that we each have what to give as part of a whole is not just what gives us direction in life, but it also gives us an appreciation for others and their unique contributions.

May this year be the year that we see all of Yisrael as part of the same orchestra. May we focus on our individual instruments to play them the best way that we possibly can, and may we appreciate the instruments that others are playing. May we remember that we are all playing the same song, and that harmony only makes the sound richer. May our song declare the glory of Hashem’s name, and may the darkness finally be consumed by Hashem’s light that He created in this very parsha.

As we truly begin this new year with greater insight than we had last year, may the words of the Torah and Haftorah speak to us in a way that they haven’t before. May we hear the call to be a light unto nations through being mekadash Shem Shamayim, and may we heed Yeshaya’s call to sing a new song.