August 27th: Ki Tavo
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Most of us are acquainted with the following excerpt from the Passover Seder: “Rabban Gamliel used to say: Whoever does not explain these three things at Passover has not fulfilled the obligation to celebrate: the Pesach Lamb, the unleavened bread, and the bitter herbs.” (Mishna Pesachim 10.5) In the Seder, it reminds us of the rules and introduces the last few rituals before the meal is served. We contemplate the lamb shank bone; we contemplate, bless, and eat the matzah and maror. However what we might not realize is that this teaching from Rabban Gamliel represents his position in an ongoing discussion/debate about how the ritual of the Seder was to be designed.
Here is a passage from the Mishna in which the debating positions are more obvious: “After they have mixed him his first cup (of wine), the School of Shammai say: Say the Blessing first over the day and then the blessing over the wine. And the School of Hillel say: Say the Blessing first over the wine and then the Blessing over the day.” (Pesachim 10.2) They are debating the order in which the Kiddush is said. Do you say “Boray p’ri hagaffen / Who creates the fruit of the vine” before saying “M’kadesh Yisrael v’hazmanim / Who sanctifies Israel and the festivals,” or vice versa? Someone had to decide, and this passage reflects two positions in the discussion.
One of my favorite debates regards one’s posture while reciting the Shema. “The School of Shammai say: In the evening all should recline when they recite the Shema, but in the morning, they should stand up, for it is written (Deuteronomy 6.7), And when thou liest down and when thou risest up. But the School of Hillel say: They may recite it everyone in his own way, for it is written, and when thou walkest by the way. Why then is it written, And when thou liest down and when thou risest up? It means the time when people usually lie down and the time when they usually rise up. Rabbi Tarphon said: I was once on a journey and I reclined to recite the Shema in accordance with the words of the School of Shammai, and so put myself in jeopardy by reason of robbers. They said to him: You deserved what befell you in that you transgressed the words of the School of Hillel. (Mishna Berachot 1.3)
My point is that all of the rituals we know had to be invented or crafted by someone—and this process usually involved extensive discussions, often over generations. How will services be organized? What subjects will be covered in various prayers? Which words will express the prayerful thoughts? And, if there are several variations in the Tradition, which should a particular community follow?
The Rabbinic teaching—still believed by the Orthodox—is that the exact wording of the Shemonah Esreh (Amidah) was revealed by God to the Anshay K’neset Hag’dolah, the Men of the Great Assembly, several centuries BCE, and that any deviation from this authorized text will negate the efficacy of the prayer. Of course, this belief flies in the face of Talmudic evidence which clearly shows how the prayer service and the wording of individual prayers are the results of a lengthy evolutionary development. Additionally, one can see multiple variations as one travels around and prays with Orthodox, Sephardic, and Hassidic groups. For example, in Nusach Sepharad, the Mourner’s Kaddish in Nusach Sepharad has a few extra words (compared to the standard Ashkenazic version), and Ayn Kelohaynu has different last verses in Sephardic versus Ashkenazi prayer books. The many Sages of many generations prayed the words and innovated and worked on the words and prayers—all to the end of supporting the spiritual processes that connect the Jewish people with the Divine.
It is this context that I approach the opening chapter of this week’s Torah portion. The sedra begins with instructions for an ancient ritual: what to say and do when bringing offerings before the Lord. My suggestion is that we read it in a spiritual way, thinking about the way this ritual worked for our ancient ancestors. How did it help them understand God, and how did it help them express their own spiritual sensibilities?
“When you enter the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a heritage, and you possess it and settle in it, you shall take some of every first fruit of the soil, which you harvest from the land that the Lord your God is giving you, put it in a basket and go to the place where the Lord your God will choose to establish the Divine Name. You shall go to the priest in charge at that time and say to him, ‘I acknowledge this day before the Lord your God that I have entered the land that the Lord swore to our ancestors to assign us.’
The priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down in front of the altar of the Lord your God. You shall then recite as follows before the Lord your God: ‘My father was a wandering Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation. The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors, and the Lord heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression. The Lord freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and wonders. God brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Wherefore I now bring the first fruits of the soil which You, O Lord, have given me…
Look down from Your holy abode, from heaven, and bless Your people Israel and the soil You have given us, a land flowing with milk and honey, as You promised to our ancestors.’” (Deuteronomy 26.1-15)
Just as our ancestors approached God in these ritual processes, may we find ways to encounter the Divine with our own spiritual and liturgical techniques. As we enter the most intense time of our Jewish year and prepare to use our lovingly crafted liturgical tools, let us invest ourselves in the possibilities of uniting with the Holy One of Israel.