The Torah and the Land

Parshat Bamidbar always precedes the holiday of Shavuot.  Rabbi Sacks points out that the Torah was given in the desert, before we conquered Eretz Yisrael and made it our homeland.  This is highly atypical.  In the United States, the Founding Fathers did not write a Constitution while they were elsewhere and then build a country in which it could become the basis for their  laws.  The British did not draft the Magna Carta and then build a constitutional monarchy.  No. They found the land, they built a civilization, established a culture, and then they adopted governing instruments for their society.

Israel is different.  First we got the Torah.  The blueprint preceded the construction. The Torah guides our lives whether or not we are privileged to be in our land.  Indeed, for the greater part of recent Jewish history, we were deprived of a homeland.  Yet we survived, because we have the Torah, which provides a focus whether we are home or in galut. This is why the Torah had to have been given even before we had a land.

God gave the people of Israel two gifts that he calls “Morasha”–birthright, or inheritance.   The Torah and the Land of Israel.  As noted above, the people of Israel have always had the Torah as a guide throughout their existence, no matter in what condition or what locale they found themselves.  On the other hand, that other birthright, the Land of Israel, has been our home and in our possession for only a tragically small percentage of our recent history.  It is a sad fact that most Jews lived and died without ever experiencing a Jewish homeland.  But they always had the Torah.

Why? An inheritance is an inheritance. Why should one inheritance always be with us, and one inheritance have been withheld most of the time?  Why should one accompany us irrespective of our location, and one be bestowed so sparingly?

A number of commentators, including the Tosefet Bracha, suggest that the answer may be found in the manner in which we accepted the inheritance when it was proffered to us.  In the case of the Torah, given on Shavuot, we said נעשה ונשמע, accepting it unconditionally, without inquiry or investigation, out of pure faith in God.  It was our inheritance, and we accepted it with open arms, grateful for the gift, asking no questions, and harboring no reservations.  God reciprocates, providing us with the Torah irrespective of whether we deserve it at any juncture in time.

In the case of Eretz Yisrael, however, we were much more selective.  Frequently, we asked why we had been taken from Egypt and begged to be allowed to return. We insisted on sending spies to determine whether the land was indeed appropriate for us and would be acceptable.  This conditional acceptance, which implies that if we had found the land, chas v’sholom, unacceptable, we would have rejected it, in turn gives God the right to determine, from time to time, whether we deserve to be in Eretz Yisrael. Sadly, when we have been subjected to whatever measurement devices He utilized, the Jewish people has not always been found to be worthy of Eretz Yisrael.  Moreover, some of the people (Reuven, Gad and half of Menasheh) exercised their discretion and chose to remain outside the confines of Eretz Yisrael, an example that many Jews with the opportunity to make aliyah followed throughout our history.  This further provides God with the equitable right to choose when and whether we are entitled to inhabit the land.  If we can choose, so can He.

As Shavuot approaches, we should remember the manner in which our ancestors acquired the eternal right to the Torah, by accepting it wholeheartedly and without question, and we should resolve to do the same.

And we should appreciate those who have lived and died for the sake of Eretz Yisrael, demonstrating that last measure of devotion that provides God with a compelling reason to determine that we are indeed worthy of it.

Shabbat Shalom, Yom Yerushalayim Sameach, and Happy Shavuot.