Dvar Torah Parsha Re'eh 5783

Devarim 11:26 – 16:17

Grieving Well

Parsha Re’eh introduces a legal collection, laws tied to the covenantal relationship between Hashem and Israel. This is one of three such collections, and this one offers a unifying vision of Israel, absolute loyalty to Adonai and to Adonai’s Chosen Place, the sole official shrine. The legal material in Devarim is framed by two sets of blessings and curses. Our parsha has the first set. Blessing if you obey, curse if you do not. When Hashem brings the people into the new land, they shall pronounce the blessing at Mount Gerizim and the curse at Mount Ebal. Both are on the other side of the Jordan, sites of the covenant affirmation ritual.

Chapter 12 begins with laws and rules to follow. They must destroy all the sites where the Canaanites worshiped. Tear down alters, put sacred posts to fire, destroy any images of their gods, obliterating their name from that site. The Israelites must not worship Hashem in like matter, but only at a site Hashem chooses as Hashem’s habitation. We know later that will be Jerusalem. Many modern scholars have concluded this regulation also targeted village sanctuaries where Israel’s own G_d was worshipped. Those sites had been in place long before Devarim was written. At this one location, they will bring sons, daughters, slaves with offerings to be shared with a Levite family to feast before Adonai. They can eat meat, but do not ingest the blood. For blood is life and you cannot eat the life with the flesh.

Chapter 13 cautions that if a prophet or diviner says to follow another god, even if a sign or portent comes true, do not heed their words. Show them no pity or compassion or cover up the matter. They must be stoned by the people. If a town does this, investigate thoroughly. If true put them and their cattle to death. Burn the town and its spoil.

Chapter 14: You are the children of Adonai. Don’t gash yourselves or shave the fronts of your heads because of the dead. Don’t eat anything abhorrent. What follows are the dietary laws. Eat animals that have cleft hoofs and bring up their cud. Any fish with fins and scales may be eaten. Any birds other than the ones named can be eaten. All winged creatures that swarm are impure. Eat nothing that died a natural death. Do not boil a kid in its mother’s milk. Set aside a tenth of crops, grains, wine, and oil. Also, the first born of herds and flocks. These will be consumed in the place chosen by Hashem. If the distance is too great, you may sell them and purchase goods to consume in the presence of Adonai. Do not neglect the Levites who do not own land of their own.

Chapter 15 reminds them that every seventh year to practice remission of debt. Be sure to care for needy kin with a generosity of spirit. If another Hebrew is sold to you, free them during the seventh year and do not let them leave you empty-handed. Remember we were once slaves in Egypt. If, however they do not wish to leave, put an awl through the ear into the door, and they will be yours in perpetuity. Consecrate to Hashem all firstlings in herd or flock. One must not work the firstling ox or shear the firstling sheep. Rather it will be eaten each year in the place to be chosen by Hashem. If however it has a defect, lameness, or blindness, do not sacrifice it to Adonai. Eat it in your settlement but do not partake of its blood. Pour the blood onto the ground.

Chapter 16 reminds the people to celebrate the month of Abib (Nisan) and offer the Passover sacrifice to Adonai. Other places the celebration happens at home, but in Devarim, at the Temple. Be sure to eat unleavened bread. None of the flesh slaughter on the first day shall remain for the second. This encourages communal eating. Do not work on the seventh day. The Feast of Weeks (Shavuot) is seven weeks from the beginning of the spring harvest. It also requires a pilgrimage, and well as the Feast of Booths (Sukkot.)

I feel the need for this dvar to discuss the commandment that begins Chapter 14. “You are children of the Lord your G_d. You shall not gash yourselves or shave the front of your heads because of the dead. For you are a people consecrated to the Lord your G_d; the Lord your G_d chose you from among all the other peoples on earth to be Their treasured people.” Rashbam says gashing yourselves is like the prophets of Baal who gashed themselves with knives and spears. Ibn Ezra says we are children of the Lord, and the Lord loves us more than our own parents.

I am a 76-year-old trans woman who began life as a gay guy. What that means is that I’m no stranger to death and dying. As Jews we have known great loss over the centuries, including centuries of pogroms leading up to but not ending with the Shoah. In my own life, family members, so very many lost to AIDS, and more with the advent of Covid. Indeed, as a member of my community’s Caring Committee, for a time it seemed like the Shivas would never end. We are in the month of August, and this month I remember the loss of my Father, Mother, and my Partner/Husband on the anniversary of their passing. Other peoples around the world call for a host of rituals including things like slashing, lacerating, self-flagellation.

But for us, the Torah sees this as incompatible with kedushah, holiness. Why is this so? Rambam suggests that it is our belief in immortality of the soul. Sforno and Chizkuni suggest we are “children of G_d” and therefore never fully orphaned, hence the limit to grief.

So it is that our Jewish faith helps create the balance between too little and too much grief. We have aninut (the time between death and burial), shiva (a week of mourning) sh’loshim (thirty days in the case of other relatives), and shanah (a year in the case of parents.) I find our Jewish way of mourning useful, and love how we remember not the death, but the lives of our loved ones each Yahrzeit. I confess, after losing my partner/husband, I thought the world would come to an end. But now I relish each year, recalling our lives together, remembering small things like the little love notes in Latin and German, how despite disabling rheumatoid arthritis, he would come to the parking garage to welcome me home each day. I’m smiling as I type this.

As I sometimes do, I’d end with a quote from Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory: “Torah and tradition knew how to honor both the dead and the living, sustaining the delicate balance between grief and consolation, the loss of life that gives us pain, and the re-affirmation of life that gives us hope.” Shabbat Shalom.