Yesterday's d'var torah:
Long-term members of our minyan may recall that about 12 years ago, we were a pilot group for an early draft of Mishkan T'filah. This was our movement's first new siddur in a generation, and any new siddur brings some changes. One of those changes was somewhat controversial: the editors added back the two paragraphs following the Sh'ma and Va'ahavta.
The Reform movement dropped these two paragraphs early on. One was about tzitzit, and ritual mitzvot like that were seen as outdated and unnecessary. The other was about reward and punishment -- specifically, the passage from this week's portion. In this passage we're told that if we do God's commandments He will reward us with rain in its season and abundant crops. But if we don't heed God's commandments, the punishment will be no rain, no food, and that we'll perish from the land.
What's wrong with this idea of reward and punishment? I can think of a few things:
- We don't like God to be so tit-for-tat. It sounds petty.
- Post-enlightment, we value individualism, not collective punishment. Rain and crops are not on a farmer-by-farmer basis; they affect everybody. But mitzvot and transgressions are done by individuals.
- But the main problem is: the world doesn't actually work this way! We all know of people, and nations, who do evil and prosper or do good and struggle.
The other reasons might be due to our modern perspective, but the world not working that way isn't new. It's never really worked that way. It's why the rabbis, as early as the mishna in Pirke Avot, came to understand the idea of Olam Haba, the World to Come, where apparent injustices in this world would be corrected. Reward and punishment might come in Olam Haba, not in the here-and-now.
I don't find this idea very satisfying -- Olam Haba is unknown and speculative, and meanwhile this world, Olam Hazeh, doesn't work that way.
So should we just ignore this part of the torah as not applying to us? Or is there another way to understand it?
In addition to the reward-and-punishment part, this passage repeats a lot of Va'ahavta -- you shall love God with all your heart, speak these words when you lie down and get up, teach your children, etc. Why does the torah repeat this? In Va'ahavta it's all in the singular; here it's plural. The whole passage here is addressed to the community, the kehal, not to us as individual Jews.
The torah passage, Moshe's final address, speaks to the concerns of the Israelites in the wilderness -- land, rain, food, sustenance. What are some similar concerns in our kehal?
When we gather in this minyan to serve God we pray with ruach (spirit) -- and that rubs off on others. New people come in and are moved by the music and the intensity and intentionality in our service. We love God with all our plural heart and we get the reward of a stronger minyan.
We connect with each other, those we know and those we don't yet know, at onegs and kiddushes and as greeters and through the activities of the B'racha Center,1 and we get the reward of a stronger congregation, one where we're all family.
We learn and teach and discuss and argue about torah with dedication, taking the text and our tradition seriously, and we get the reward of engaged adults and reaching the next generation.
Our rewards are just as important as rain.
And the punishments?
If we don't work to keep the minyan strong, high-quality, and welcoming to all, the punishment is that people drift away and the minyan diminishes.
If we don't remember that we're part of a kehal, a community made up of people with human needs, the punishment is a disinterested, sterile congregation.
If we don't care about learning our torah and traditions, the punishment is that no one else will care either.
Do these rewards and punishments come from God, or are they the natural consequences of our actions -- just human nature? Pirke Avot teaches: "mitzvah goreret mitzvah, aveirah goreret aveirah" -- the reward for a mitzvah is another mitzvah, and the punishment for a transgression is another transgression. We do what we are in the habit of doing, in other words, good or bad. I'm willing to grant the divine hand in all this -- after all, who made human nature? The reward and punishment are indirect, but they're there. Maybe in this light, this passage resonates more for us.
In the end the editors of Mishkan T'filah compromised; they included the paragraph about tzitzit and omitted this one. Maybe in another generation, or maybe even sooner, we'll be ready to reconsider this passage.
1 The B'racha Center in my synagogue is the group that, among other things, organizes hospitality for newcomers, meals for families that are in mourning or dealing with an illness, transportation help for seniors, and lots of other personal-connection stuff.