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The Monster at the End of the Book
I grew up reading Grover’s charming book, “The Monster at the End of the Book,” and in turn read it to my children. The premise was innocent, that there are no monsters, just cuddly grover. But this week, and the coinciding of Parashat Ha’azinu in our Torah reading and the anniversary of October 7th, are a stark reminder of innocence shattered and the monsters who linger at the end of our book.
This song of celebration which Moses prepares for God, quickly transitions from respecting the close ties and important relationships between God and the people Israel to the consequences of rebellion and stepping out of line. The litany very quickly transforms into the monster at the end of the Five Books of Moses, with harsh consequences for the people hand picked by God.
Or perhaps, that is how it feels on this, the one year since October 7th, the worst attack on Jews since the Holocaust, and the worst attack on innocent Israeli civilians, since Israel has been defending its right to exist from the day of its establishment. On a recent news episode on Keshet (Israel’s channel 12), an Israeli modern Orthodox panelist, when asked her reflections for the new year said, (and I translate loosely): “I want to say, and forgive me for this, but KBH (God, the Kadosh Barukh Hu), what do you want from your people? What are you waiting for? You have a beautiful people here, who have done everything they could to take care of one another and the land, what are you waiting for?”
Indeed since October 7th Israelis, as a society, have done everything they could to recover from the most significant and devastating political and military failure of the country. They have pulled together, advocated for the release of hostages, provided supplies and housing for the displaced, cared for the families of the military, shown up time and again to the funerals and Shiva homes for far too many young lives lost, and answered each and every call to action.
They have answered the call, as Moses outlines in verses 46-47, “…take to heart all the words with which I have warned you this day. Enjoin them upon your children, that they may observe faithfully all the terms of this Torah. For this is not a small thing for you: it is your very life; through it you shall live out long days on the land that you are to have when crossing the Jordan.” (adapted from JPS). Rashi goes on to explicate that one must hold their understanding of God and interpretation of God’s law with their eyes, heart, ears. It is a complete sensory experience, one that even in its description can feel overwhelming. And why must we employ and embody Torah? Because the study of Torah can be like a mountain suspended by the thread of a hair. It is that precarious, that vulnerable, and yet at the same time, its consequences can literally be miraculous. It feels exhausting to have to work so hard especially knowing that this is what keeps us from turning the page and revealing the monsters.
That is, if we read this love song as a linear unfolding from line to line. Knowing that there is no real sense of timeline in the Torah, what happens if we read this song as a spiral, where each line of comfort can be a refrain for the warning embed within?
Specifically, what changes, if we go back and read verses 11 as a response to the warnings that come after of the punishments; or as a consolation of how we can possibly walk the walk and talk the talk of Torah so intensely?
Verse 11 we recall, describes the ways Adonai nests us, as we, the people of Israel, try our best to set out on our way as little eagelets, ” Like an eagle who rouses its nestlings,
Gliding down to its young, so did Adonai spread wings and take them.” (adapted from JPS translation) Rashi suggests that this verse is a reminder that Adonai provides respite in order for the children of Israel to recover and find a place in their hearts to love Adonai and follow his ways. Nachmanadies goes much further, reminding all of us, that the reason we might need this respite, is that in each and every generation we might question Adonai, we might question being the chosen people, as evil sets out to destroy our people. And somehow, in each generation the story of our devastation is coupled with our story of survival. It can be hard amidst the devastation to recognize and name this survival, as it comes at such a high cost to us while living through it. But, Nachmanadies concludes, we must trust that the survival will follow, because, as he hits his punchline, God needs us as much as we need God, and this parasha, this love song, is a mutual commitment of each to the other.
God needs us, and even if today we know that the interventions and the support are not personal, that God has moved further away from each of us, that we carry that spark of sacred and we find those interventions happening in other ways. We find, as Mr. Rogers always reminds us, “The Helpers”, we find the people who make the hardest of times a little easier. We find our eagles who are there, willing and ready to carry us for a bit, as we are too weary to make the journey solo. We find the organizers, the upstanders, those ready to take a risk and speak up and speak out.
How do we know God needs us as much as we need God? Siftain Chachamim brings that point forth, that everything was written in the Torah for a purpose, but the only way to reveal the meanings and reason of what is written is by the act of midrash, but studying and interpreting Torah through human activity. God needs us in order for Torah to be a living sacred activity in our lives. And we need to tell the stories so that we can be reminded that in fact there is not a monster at the end of the book, there is Adonai, waiting, arms stretched open, to nestle us and carry us when we tire and feel we cannot keep moving forward. We will recharge in the arms of Sh’khina, and come back ready to battle that which seeks to destroy us, heal that which has harmed us, and repair that which is broken.
We have four goals during these ten days of repentence this year, four goals for which we need both Adonai and our fellow humans as partners:
1. Return the hostages home. It is unfathomable that these 101 innocents are being held by terrorists. We need every person in the world to say their names, every media outlet to publish their pictures, and outroar from every government whose citizens are being held to demand that this is our global priority.
2. Watch over our soldiers and all our security forces. There is nothing more precarious than battling terrorism and as Israel eliminates some of those on the “most wanted” lists of all nations, we turn our prayers to the young who make up these security forces and pray for their safe return home.
3. Confront and battle antisemitism as it manifests around the globe. It is coming with dumbfounding support for global militant terrorism – terrorism that rejects all the liberal tenents of an equitable and just society. We must protect ourselves from the hatred, the ignorance and the harm of this newest wave of antisemitism.
4. Use this time for each and every personal pain, loss and sorrow. These ten days are crafted for the very personal and private mourning. Even with the mounting public focus on these days for communal outcries, there is a place and a mandate to make space amidst all of this for the personal losses, challenges and battles each of us is encountering in our lives. Make time and space for that healing.
How do we move through these Ten Days of Repentence with so much hanging over us? We find our helpers, we find our eagles. And if we have space and capacity we are the Eagles. Each one of us, every day, but especially these ten days, can show up for one another. Show up as we have all year – calling our legislatures, raising funds for the families of hostages, for the families of those serving, for the families of those displaced. We show up baking challah, lighting Shabbat candles, making daily minyan. We show up sharing social media posts, writing op-eds, and calling out fake news. We show up being eagles and holding others when they need to pause. We show up asking for help when we cannot take another step.
This new year, we wish one another a Shana Yoter Tovah, not a good year, but a better year.
B’sorot Tovot
- This was delivered originally as a sermon for Shabbat Shuva at the Midway Jewish Center, Syosset, NY, where we pray for the return of all hostages, in particular for our dear member, Omer Neutra.
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