Annette Koch
D'var Torah for Sept. 10,  2001                               

Parashat Nitzavim, Dvarim 30:11-14


     My hands grew cold and clammy as I waited for the elevator to arrive. In the few moments it took to rise up to the fourth floor a debate began in my head, again. "I'm not really going to go up there and ask for an application; tell Cantor Dreskin I want to be a rabbi, am I?" All the rabbis I know inspire such respect. Knowledgeable, compassionate, even wise. The right word at the right moment. Although I knew that that was what I really wanted to do, the task appeared so daunting. I wasn't sure I could ever learn enough Torah to make me a colleague of my Rabbis.
     In this week's parashah, Nitzavim, Moses addresses a very similar question. He addresses it at the end of his final discourse after laying out a long series of rules, injunctions, and requirements. The list must have
seemed endless and the children of Israel must have looked as worried as I felt riding up in that elevator, when Moses says what we find in verses 11-14 of Chapter 30, which were so beautifully read for us a moment ago:
        (11) Surely, this Instruction which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach. (12) It is not in the heavens, that you should say, "Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?" (13) Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, "Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?" (14) No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it. Deut. 30:11-14.

Our tradition understands these verses to be reassuring. So much so that we in the Reform Movement read them on Yom Kippur.  But what do these verses actually say to us? Verse 11 tells us quite directly that though the Torah may be "baffling", it is not too baffling. Midrash Rabbah tells us that the law was too difficult for the ministering angels, who "eagerly desired it", but was given to us instead, for whom it was not too difficult.   Rashi tells us that the "oral" law was given to us along with the "written law", to assist us in comprehending it.
      Since Verse 11 tells us that the Torah is not too baffling for us, why do verses 12 and 13 go on to say that it is not in heaven or across the sea? What does Moses mean when he says that this instruction is not in heaven? In a dispute among the Sages over whether or not a certain clay oven could be susceptible to impurity, R. Eliezer, having taken the minority view, calls on miracles to prove that he is right. And the miracles occur! First, a carob tree uproots and replants itself. Then the river flows backwards, and the walls of the Beit Midrash stop just short of collapsing. Finally, a Bat Kol, a Heavenly Voice calls "why do you dispute R. Eliezer, with whom the Halakhah always agrees?"  But the Sages of the Talmud had no need for
miracles or a Bat Kol to interpret Torah. The Rabbis of the majority in the dispute reject the evidence of the miracles and respond that they are no longer bound by Heaven's interpretation, citing Verse 12 for the proposition that  "the Torah is not in Heaven" and heavenly voices have no right to interfere. At the conclusion of the story God responds by laughing with joy at having succeeded so well in transmitting ownership of this teaching to God's children, saying "My children  have defeated me." (Sefer Ha'Aggadah,
p.223) This story teaches us that we no longer need to rely on heavenly interpretations of Torah. We learn from Nechama Liebowitz  that "[s]ince it [the Torah] is not in heaven, man can no longer rely on heavenly guidance but must interpret it and teach it himself with his own resources." Studies in D'varim, p. 324
     Is there comfort in the nearness of Torah? Rashi teaches that had the Torah been in heaven or over the seas, we would still be obligated to find some way or some one to get it for us, and to teach it to us. The Talmud acknowledges that though the Torah is not in heaven, we can feel overwhelmed by how much there is in our tradition to learn. This is like the fool described in Tractate Eruvin who, seeing how much there is to learn, turns away and abandons the effort before he ever begins. How then do we learn it? The sages of the Talmud respond that the one "who is wise ... studies one chapter every day until he completes the whole law."  Bit by bit. One page, one conjugation, one new vocabulary word at a time.
     Torah teaches us that notwithstanding our doubts, we can learn it and interpret it. Verse 14 tells us:

No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.

Ha'davar b'ficha.  B’ficha  means "in your mouth" which is related to the expression which we translate into English as "by heart",  "b'al peh", "by mouth."   The Talmud teaches "open your mouth and learn," According to R. Simeon b. Yochai, in this verse Moses tells us that "You need but utter the word with your mouth."
     "B'ficha" is what we mean when we talk about oral transmission of Torah. We utter the words not only to learn them but also to interpret them, and to teach these sacred words.  At the beginning of his discourse, which coincides with the beginning of the parashah, Moses addresses his words to our entire people:  the men, the women and the children, the Chieftains and the strangers, even the woodchopper and the waterdrawer. Deut. 29:9.  No one is too exalted to be excused from the obligation of learning Torah; nor is
anyone so unworthy as to be excluded from the mitzvah of learning. (Plaut). One legend tells us that at Sinai, when the words of the Torah were given to us, they rolled from the ears of every Israelite to our lips, in a kiss. Ginzberg, vol. 3, p.96.  Every Israelite can taste the sweetness of the word of God in his or her mouth, and can experience the intimacy of that kiss. Moses was commanded to "write down this poem and teach it to the people of Israel; put it in their mouths."  And we are obligated to continue the sacred task that God commanded Moses to fulfill.
        Verse 14 says that Torah  is not only "b’ficha", in your mouth, but also b’levavecha. Not merely by rote, but in our hearts as well. Contrary to our understanding of our hearts as the seat of our emotions, in
other ages the heart was understood to be the seat of the intellect, of our reason. Maimonides tells us from the words "In your Mouth" we understand that we learn the commandments by word of mouth, but " in your heart" means "the reasoning which comes through deliberation, and which is the power that is drawn to the heart." (Quoted elsewhere from Intro. to Mishna, 2.)   
               It will be our responsibility to inscribe the words of Torah on our hearts and on the hearts of the members of our communities; to help them understand our tradition so that they can take ownership of it. And when we do we will fulfill the mitzvah of putting the words of Torah in the mouths of the people we will someday serve; to transmit ownership of this teaching to them, to empower them to utter the words and thereby taste their sweetness and the sweetness of God's presence in their lives.
     The midrash, however also cautions us about the awesome power of the word. After all, God spoke and the world came to be. Legend has it that the mouth was given to Jacob as his weapon; we are the people of the word. (Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, Vol. III, p. 366.)  Another midrash further explains that when God breathed life into Adam, God chose to do it through Adam's nostrils, rather than his mouth. Our nostrils reject what is not fragrant, but a person can use the mouth to speak ill of fellow human beings. Ginzberg, I, p.60.  These midrashim caution us as future Jewish leaders whose words will carry weight and authority. Though our tradition teaches that we no longer rely on heaven to interpret Torah for us, it warns
us that what we teach must be grounded in the tradition itself.
     The words of our parashah acknowledge that entering into the Covenant and engaging in a relationship with God is difficult, at times baffling, but ultimately rewarding and, contrary to the anxieties I may have felt when I first began this process, within our reach.  We have come to this place to learn to utter the words of Torah out loud. Indeed, we have even crossed over the sea to do so. And yet, we still have much more wandering in the wilderness to do in the years ahead of us. Nevertheless, we are walking in the footsteps of the teachers who came before us. When we feel discouraged or overwhelmed by what may seem to be the magnitude of the task we have undertaken, we need but remember how close these sacred words are to each of us. May we all taste the sweetness of God's words in our mouths and inscribe them on our hearts. Ken Y'hi Ratzon.