HaazinuShabbos Shuvaתשע״ה5775Parsha
The Power of Love
Parshas Hazinu—Shabbos Shuva
The essay discusses the importance of tailoring communication to different spiritual levels within Klal Yisroel and emphasizes the potential for Teshuva M’Ahava to transform past misdeeds into merits.
Shiras Hazinu is one of the most seminal portions of Moshe’s final address that has spanned Sefer Devarim. In a poetic and sometimes cryptic way Moshe Rabbeinu discusses the dichotomy Jewish destiny: how much we can accomplish and be Zoche to when we follow the path of the Torah, and how low we can sink if we don’t.
The Shira opens with the words: “Hazinu HaShamayim V’adaber, Visishma HaAretz Imrei Fi: let the Heavens listen as I speak, and the earth hear my words.” Now, clearly the heavens and earth are not capable of listening, and why would Moshe need them to pay attention to him in the first place?
Rashi explains that Moshe was telling Klal Yisroel that the Shamayim and Aretz would bear witness to his words and he brings two explanations as to why the Shamayim and Aretz specifically were asked to fulfill this role.
It is interesting to note, however, that there is a difference in the Lashon when Moshe refers to the heaven and when he refers to the earth. He instructs the Shamayim: “Hazinu…V’adabera” while to the Aretz he says: “Visishma…Imrei Fi.” Why the difference between the two? Moshe could have said: “Hazniu Hashamayim V’Haretz” or something of a similar nature. What can we learn from this change in language?
The Kli Yakar explains that Shamayim and Aretz are not referring to the actual heavens and earth. Rather, they are referring to those among Klal Yisroel who are akin to the Shamayim—those on a high level—as well as those who are on a lower level, similar to the earth. When speaking to the Tzadikim, those on a higher level, Moshe uses the term Dibur, which we are told by Chazal refers to a harsher way of speaking, but when speaking to the lower people, the Aretz , he uses a term of Amira, which is a softer form of speech.
We can learn from this Kli Yakar the importance of speaking to each member of Klal Yisroel on their own level. Moshe Rabbeinu wished for his vital message to reach everyone, so he had to tailor the words to all those who were present. Those who are on a higher spiritual plane would instinctively understand the importance of Moshe’s words, and would therefore be attentive even if it they were delivered in a harsh manner. Those who were on a lower level however—the Kli Yakar calls them the Pechusim—would not be as receptive to harsh words of Mussar, and they may not pay attention at all, so they required a different style of delivery.
It is interesting to note, however, that there is a class of people called the “Pechusim,” the lower ones. These are people whom, as the Kli Yakar puts it, fight back at the first sign of hardship, and resist any sort of control or authority. There weren’t people who were uneducated or simply “not holding,” they were in this state because of their own Aveiros, why did Moshe Rabbenu deign to speak to them directly? Perhaps Moshe would have been better off giving the message only to those who could handle it, why water it down or change the tone for those who were resistant to his authority and candor?
I think there is an answer to this question that can be very instructive during the Aseres Yimei Teshuva.
Many of us approach these days with a sense of dread, or a feeling of “here we go again.” Elul comes, we start to say L’Dovid Hashem, we hear the Shofar every morning and we know that Rosh Hashana is coming. We know that we must look at ourselves and see how we did this year. Then comes Rosh Hashana, we’re Mamlich Hashem, we stand in Shul and remind ourselves “Ki Lo Yizku B’Eynecha BaDin” and we achieve sense of Hisorrirus—we want to be better, we want to improve ourselves in the coming year.
This leads us to make a Cheshbon HaNefesh and identify the areas in which we must work upon ourselves. At some point during the Aseres Yimei Teshuva we make a series of Kabalos—no more Lashon Harah, Daveing with more Kavana, more Dikduk in our Brachos—and we come to Yom Kippur with a sense of having done Teshuva.
Then comes the rest of the year.
Sometime around the 5th day of Cheshvan the Lashon Harah creeps back in, our Kavana begins to ebb, the Brachos become less meaningful. Before we know it, we’re hearing the Shofar again on Rosh Chodesh Elul and we’re right back where we started twelve months ago.
The Sefer Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh, which is written anonymously by one of the contemporary Ba’alei Machshava, outlines this process with alarming accuracy and he explains why this happens. We look at ourselves, identify the areas that are lacking, and seek to do a patch job. We want to modify the behavior without actually fixing the underlying problem: our relationship with Hashem. This is why we find ourselves in the same position year after year, because we fail to make the important changes in our attitude, focusing only on our actions.
In reality, though, if we change our attitude, if we repair out relationship with Hashem, we can not only be more confidant in our future behavior—secure in the knowledge that we can make changes that will be long-lasting—but we can also alter our past to a degree most people don’t even realize is possible.
In the Perek of L’Dovid Hashem, which is said throughout these days and represents in many ways the entire cycle of the Yimei Harachamim, Dovid HaMelech says “Achas Sha’alti M’Es Hashem…Shivti B’bais Hahsem, Kol Yimei Chayai: I have but one request of Hashem, allow me to dwell in the House of Hashem all the days of my life.”
The Chasam Sofer asks: how is it possible for us to ask Hashem to dwell in his house “Kol Yimei Chayai”, all of our days? Can anyone possibly say that they have never done Aveiros? Can we assume that there has not been a single day until now that we have lived outside the House of Hashem? It would be understandable if we asked that we be allowed to live in the Bais Hashem from now one, to express our desire to eliminate behavior that puts us outside His home, but how can we venture to say “Kol Yimei Chayai?” Do not our past indiscretions put that out of reach?
The Chasam Sofer explains with a life-changing Yesod: If someone does Teshuva M’Ahava, not only are his past Aveiros forgiven, but they are in fact turned into Mitzvos! Each Kezayis of non-kosher food is turned into a Kezayis of Kodshim; each minute wasted doing things that are at best inane is turned into a minute of learning Torah; each word of Lashon Harah is transformed into words of Shiros V’Sishbachos.
If a person accomplishes this, he can turn each of his days into days of Shivti B’bais Hashem. All the time that he spent entrenched in Aveira is turned into blissful Avodas Hahsem—he need only do the proper Teshuva, and Kol Yimei Chayai is well within his reach.
This, however, is predicated on our ability to do Teshuva M’Ahava, something that many of us believe is beyond our reach. We are used to doing Teshuva M’Yirah—our inspiration tends to come from words like “Mi Yichye, U’mi Yamus.” How can we even dream about the Teshuva M’Ahava of which the Chasam Sofer speaks?
I heard an empowering though from R’ Avrohom Schor, based on a Sfas Emes.
We know that there is a Mitzvah of Ahavas HaShem, in fact it is one of the Sheish Mitzvos Temidios. The Ramabam in Moreh Nevuchim asks: how is it possible to have a Mitzvah to love something? Ahava is an emotion, either a person feels it or they don’t, how can we be Mechuyev to love Hashem?
The Sfas Emes answers that the fact that there is a Mitzvah of Ahavas Hashem means that we all have the ability to do so. The very existence of this Chiyuv means that every one of us has the capacity to truly love Hashem. The Rambam is correct—you cannot force someone to have an emotion, so the fact that the Torah says that we must love Hashem means that we have this feeling within us.
Our difficulty is in accessing these feelings.
The Sefer HaChinuch says that if one loves something in the physical world, he violates the Mitzvah of Ahavas Hashem. Why should this be the case? Perhaps he loves the physical and the spiritual at the same time? The Sfas Emes explains that a person has within him a measure of Ahava that he can apply to Dvarim SheBiRuchi or SheBiGashmi—the more love one has for the physical, the less Ahavas Hashem he can have.
The implication of this Sfas Emes is that we are all imbued with the necessary tools to be Ohavei Hashem, but we tend to misapply this love—using it instead for mundane things—and our relationship with Hashem suffers.
R’ Schor therefore explains that Teshuva M’Ahava can be accomplished if one does Teshuva for the purpose of restoring his Ahavas Hashem. If a person realizes that his the trajectory of his pursuits on this world are the very cause of his lack of Ahavas Hashem, and seeks to do Teshuva in order to rectify this, he is doing Teshuva M’Ahava—Teshuva for the purpose of Ahavas Hashem.
This is a level of Ahavas Hashem that we are all capable of. We all want to change our ways, we want to be better people, if we decide to make these changes so that we will have a closer relationship with our creator, we can be Zoche to the words of the Chasam Sofer and our Aveiros will not just be erased, but they will themselves be turned into Mitzvos.
If we accomplish this task, if we can do Teshuva for these reasons, we can make changes that will be long-lasting, and avoid the endless cycle that the Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh describes. We will make changes in our relationship with Hashem, in our attitude and not just our actions, and that can have real permanence. Perhaps this is what Moshe Rebeinu understood. While there are people who are Pechusim, who are on the Aretz level, this is not a permanent state of being. We are all imbued with the potential for Ahavas Hashem, we can all be Zoche to Teshuva M’Ahava. All members of Klal Yisroel have the potential to live in a life of “Shivti B’vais Hashem Kol Yimei Chayai.” It is therefore necessary for Moshe to deliver his message to all members of Klal Yisroel, without exception. The very Pechusim who would reject his authority, and therefore need the softer tone of Amira, can tomorrow be on the level of Shamayim, with no remnant of their prior misdeeds.
As we begin the Aseres Yimei Teshuva, perhaps we can take this approach—to realize that as much as we feel like Pechusim, we are in fact carrying the tools to Teshuva M’Ahava within us. We need only make the choice to use them. We can decide that this year rather than adjustments to our behavior, we can change our outlook. We all yearn for a connection to Hashem and we can use this urge to change our mistakes into Mitzvos, to come into the New Year with a commitment to use our gift of Ahava to restore our relationship with Hashem, thus creating for ourselves a reality of “Shivti B’bais Hahsem Kol Yimei Chayai.”