Parshas Nitzvim-VaYelech

This year, as is the case in most years, we read the Parshios of Netzavim and VaYelech on the last Shabbos of the year. Because we know that there are no coincidences, it would seem appropriate to try and see what lessons we can take for Rosh Hashana as we learn these Parshios.

Both Parshios were said on the last day of Moshe Rabeinu’s life, and as much as Sefer Devarim represents Moshe’s final instructions to Bnei Yisroel, these Parshios are really his closing remarks, so to speak. As we go through the Pesukim we are privy to a Rebbe’s last words to his beloved Talmiddim—strong Mussar, but also words of Chizuk that are meant to carry us through the darkest times of our history.

As Moshe begins this final Shmuz, he addresses all that have gathered: “Atem Nitzavim Hayom Kulchem Lifnei Hashem Elokeychem: You are all standing here today before Hashem.” Moshe was speaking to all of Klal Yisroel, but he specifics: “Rosheichem, Shiftechem, Zikneichem, V’Shotreichem, Kol Ish Yisroel: Your leaders, the leaders of your Shevet, the Zikenim, the Shotrim, each man in Klal Yisroel.” But it wasn’t just the men, and it wasn’t just the leaders: “ Tapchem, Nisheichem, V’gerecha…MeChotev Eitzecha Ad Shoev Memcha: The children, women and Gerim—from the woodchoppers to the water bearers.”

It is clear that each and every member Klal Yisroel, representing every status and caste, was there to hear Moshe’s final address on that day, and this was surely a sight to see, but why did Moshe have to go to such great lengths to expound on all the various types of people that were there? Kulchem is inclusive—all of you, every member of the Klal—what do we gain from the additional enumeration?

I think that there is an important insight that can be gained from an alternate understanding of the word “Hayom.”

Any time a noun is preceded by the letter “Hey” we can assume that the Torah is referring to a specific identifiable case of that noun. For example, when the word HaChamor (the donkey) appears, Chazal tell us that it refers to the donkey that Avraham, Moshe and Bilaam all rode—and that Moshiach will ultimately ride. This is referred to as a Hey Hayediah.

In our case the word HaYom is proceeded by a Hey Hayieah, but which day does it refer to? The Pashut Pshat is obviously that it refers to the day of Moshe’s Petirah, but there is another explanation as well. The Zohar, cited by the Ohr Gedalyahu and others, explains that the word Hayom when it appears in the Torah, is in each case referring to Rosh Hashana. This is relatable to the Teffilah we say after Tekias Shofar: “HaYom Haras Olam.” Rosh Hashana, the first day of the year, but also the anniversary of the world’s creation, is the ultimate case of a Yom—it is The Day.

If we take this explanation of the word HaYom into account, we can form a totally new understanding of these Pesukim in our Parsha.

R’ Schor explains: as we know that the main element of Rosh Hashana—the central focus of the Avodas HaYom—is to be Mamlich Hakadosh Baruch Hu. So much so that in Mussaf the Birchas Hayom—the Bracha that we end Mikadesh Yisroel V’Yom Haizkaron—is in the Bracha of Malchios, because this is the Ikkur purpose of the day.

We know that Ain Melech B’lo Am, there cannot be a king without a kingdom. Therefore on Rosh Hashana there is a focus on the Klal: we must accept Hakadosh Baruch Hu as out king in a communal sense. This is perhaps one of the reasons that there is a special Zechus to be part of a Klal on Rosh Hashana as we have spoken about in the past.

But, says R’ Schor, there is a danger in that as well. Sometimes we think that by attaching ourselves to a Klal, we don’t have to work on the “Prat”. We can convince ourselves that If we live in the right neighborhood, attend the correct Yeshiva or Shul, associate ourselves with a “good” crowd, then our own personal growth and spiritual wellbeing are not as important.

This is a serious mistake. . If there is no king without a nation, there is no nation without individuals. Yes, on Rosh Hashana we accept the Malchus of Hashem as a Klal, but each of us must make that same Kabalah on ourselves—we cannot rely on the accomplishments of the Klal alone.

That is why Moshe spoke of the Klal and the individuals that make up the Klal. Atem Nitzavim Hayom Kulchem--on Rosh Hashana we stand together, as a unit, Lifnei Hashem Elokeychem and proclaim His Malchus. But at the same time each individual-- Rosheichem, Shiftechem, Zikneichem Tapchem, Nisheichem, V’gerecha—must make the Kabalah himself, must himself be Mamlich the Melech Malchei HeMelachim in his own life.

But the word HaYom appears elsewhere in the Parsha as well. Toward the end of the Parsha, the Passuk says: “Re’ah Nasati Lifnchem HaYom Es HaChaim V’es HaTov, Es HaMaves V’es Ha’rah” Moshe tells Bnei Yisroel that he has laid before them HaYom a choice: The Path of Tov, which comes with Life, or the opposite path that brings with it the opposite of life. This is indeed a brief synopsis of our lives: the choice between good and evil, between the Ratzon Hashem and the opposite. Our goal is to make sure that more often than not we heed Moshe Rabbeinu’s advice, as it appears a few Pessukim later: “U’vacharta B’Chaim.”

However, once again understanding that the word HaYom can be taken to mean Rosh Hashana, we are faced with a bit of a different message. On Rosh Hashana itself, we have an opportunity to make a choice for how we will lead our life in the coming year—Es HaChaim V’es HaTov, Es HaMaves V’es Ha’rah—the option is there, but we have to resolve to take the path of Chaim.

This brings to mind the second characteristic of Rosh Hashana—the Yom HaDin. We know that on this day we are all judged. Our actions and behavior of the last year are reviewed and a determination is made as to how that will affect the coming year. Because we are given the gift of Teshuva (discussed elsewhere in these Parshios) we have the opportunity to make a new choice for the new year, giving us the opportunity to fulfill the rubric of U’vacharta B’Chaim.

This dual nature of Rosh Hashana, however, can be a little troubling. On one hand, it is a day of coronation, on which we renew our allegiance to our King. This should be accompanied by great joy, and indeed Rosh Hashana has an aspect of Yom Tov. On the other hand it is the Yom HaDin, the day in which our inadequacies are reviewed and brought to life—and who among us has nothing to fear? One might assume that these two days be separate—perhaps we should first improve our ways, go through the Aseres Yimei Teshuva, and then be Mamlich Hahsem anew having first renewed our commitment to the path of Tov and Chaim. Or else, allow us to be Mamlich Hashem, and use that renewed commitment to spur us to Teshuva and have a Yom HaDin after that. Why has the Torah created this day with such a duality? It is common for people to be so nervous about the Din that they cannot properly appreciate the Malchus aspect, how are we supposed to balance the two?

There have been many hours of Mussar Shmuzen and many pages of Seforim devoted to this question, but I would like to suggest an approach based on a Passuk in the second Parsha we read this week.

In Parshas VaYelech, Moshe describes the process that Bnei Yisroel will inevitably go through, wherein we do not live up to our responsibilities as Shmorei Torah U’Mitzvos and are therefore sent into Galus. When that occurs, we will experience Hester Panim and Hashem’s presence in our lives and our sense of security will be shaken.

At that point, says Moshe, we will perform much needed self-introspection and come to the conclusion that “Al Ki Ein Eloka B’Kirbi Motzuni HaRaos HaEleh: Because Hashem is not inside me I have experienced these travails.” In our darkest moments will recognize that our own failings caused the Tzaros to happen.

R’ Shimshon Pincus points out that throughout history this has been a reality, on both an individual and national level. When we are truly shaken by circumstances and tragedy, we are able to recognize that our connection to Hashem and the Torah is lacking. It is at that point that we are able to repair this relationship, hopefully bringing ourselves salvation.

What is the reason for this phenomenon? Why at those points in our lives and history able are we to come to the realization of Al Ki Ein Eloka B’Kirbi?

R’ Shimshon explains based on a Bais HaLevi in Parshas Toldos. We know that when Rivka was pregnant with Yaakov and Eisav the two brothers fought in the womb. The Bais HaLevi says that the fact that Eisav was fighting with Yaakov even before they were born shows that Eisav’s hatred for us is natural and inborn.

The Medrash also says that Yaakov would kick when Rivka passed a Makom Kadosh. If we are to take the Bais HaLevi’s idea to the fullest extent, this means that Yaakov’s love for Kedusha is also innate—it was present even before he came into this world.

Each member of Klal Yisroel is born with a desire for Kedusha, just as the Umos HaOlam are born with a hatred for Klal Yisroel. If we were to live our lives based on our natural inclinations, we would be connected to Hashem at the highest levels. Our problem is that we cloud this natural inclination with our own shortcomings. We focus on the physical world and fleeting pleasures and this inhibits our inborn desire for Kedusha from being a reality.

Sometimes this condition worsens to the point that we are totally disconnected from the Kedusha that we ultimately crave. But when we are shaken by tragedy or fear that fog is lifted and we revert to our natural state: an unadulterated desire for connection to Hashem. At that point we look at our lives and say: “Al Ki Ein Eloka B’Kirbi.”

Perhaps this is the reason that Rosh Hashana must have the dual nature that it does. The primary purpose of Rosh Hashana is to be Mamlich Hakadosh Baruch Hu upon ourselves anew. But if we were to attempt to do this in the natural course of our lives we may be prevented from doing so by the fog of our focus on trivial matters.

The added element of Din, however, helps change that. On Rosh Hashana we know that “Kol Ba’ei Olam Yavrun Lifanecha K’beni Maron,” we are each being judged, and that instills some fear into us. Perhaps we can utilize that fear, that sense of trepidation, to awaken our inner desire for Kedusha. We can reconnect with Hashem start on a path of Teshuva that will restore our inborn need to connect with Hashem, to establish that Yesh Eloka B’Kirbi.

In doing so we will fulfill the true purpose of the day—and be able to truly be Mekabel the Malchus of Hakadosh Baruch Hu. In so doing we will be Zoche to a Ksiva V’chasima Tova, and a year of only Chaim and Tov.