Av 6, 5784  ·  10 August 2024

Parashat Devarim

A Devar Torah by Ben Eaton

"The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice."

— Popularised by Martin Luther King Jr., originally attributed to Theodore Parker

Parshat Shofetim commands us: "Justice, justice, shall you pursue, that you may live and possess the land the Lord, your G‑d, is giving you." The commandment doesn't guarantee that we will live to see justice — but we must pursue it nonetheless. Today's parsha, however, calls us to consider something rather more troubling: the modern political concept of "the right side of history."

The Hubris of History

Consider, for a moment, the level of hubris required to believe you stand on "the right side of history." The idea that you can see the ultimate consequences of your actions — to the point that you can be sure history will judge you favourably. To be so full of your own ego that you think this even matters.

We are Birmingham Progressive Synagogue. The very notion of being "progressive" is predicated on the assumption that we can always improve things, but we don't know how until the opportunity arises or new ideas come about. What's considered "progressive" today may not be thought of that way tomorrow. Judging the past by today's fashions is a great way to repeat mistakes. If we were truly certain of the past, present, and future, there would be no need for progress.

There is a Talmudic precedent for this attitude. When Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai lay on his deathbed, he wept. When his disciples asked why, he replied: "I see two paths before me… and I do not know down which path they will lead me. Should I not weep?" Why did he wait until his deathbed to question the trajectory of his life? One explanation is that instead of constantly asking "Where am I headed?", Rabbi Yochanan asked: "What does G‑d want from me at this moment?"

This is an attitude shared with Moses. He is not lecturing us through the whole of Devarim because he wants to be remembered well — he is doing it because he doesn't want us to go astray. He knows he will be leaving us before we enter The Promised Land, and he knows we've messed up in the past, so he wants to prepare us for what is to come after he has gone.

The Commandment to Remember

Judaism places enormous emphasis on remembering — and it is always an active instruction:

"Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy."
"Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt."
"Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey."

On Shabbat we cease from work, light candles, and make Kiddush — every week, so that we do not forget. Every Pesach we remove leaven, eat matzah, and retell the Exodus. Every Sukkot we build a Sukkah to remember how we lived in booths in the wilderness. We say Shema every day. We wear a Talit when we pray. Remembering is not left to chance in the Torah.

We also remember the tragedies that have befallen our people — the destruction of the Temple, the centuries of pogroms that culminated in the Holocaust, the 1,139 people murdered in the Simchat Torah pogrom, and the hostages still held in Gaza. We do this because human beings are very good at forgetting things that are inconvenient or cause us to question our own actions.

The Deconstruction of Falling Stars

When Eisenhower visited Ohrdruf concentration camp in April 1945, he foresaw a day when the horrors he witnessed might be denied. He cabled to General Marshall that he had made the visit deliberately, in order to give first-hand evidence should there ever develop a tendency to dismiss the allegations as mere propaganda. He then instructed that journalists and members of Congress be brought to the camps. He knew how easy it is for the truth to be lost.

In 1945, Winston Churchill was — to use Thomas Carlyle's theory — a great man. In 2002, 37 years after his death, he was voted the greatest Briton of all time in a BBC poll. Then came what screenwriter Joe Straczynski called "The Deconstruction of Falling Stars" — the idea that no matter how righteous the deeds of your life, before long some iconoclast will appear and trash your legacy.

Less than 15 years after being voted the greatest Briton of all time, Churchill was accused of responsibility for the Bengal famine of 1943 — a contextless allegation. During the 2020 protests, his statue was defaced, while quietly ignoring the fact that Churchill saved the world from a tyranny which would have done far worse to those of us who didn't meet the Aryan ideal. He may not have been a saint, but the world is undoubtedly a better place because of him.

Moses and the Groundhog Day Warning

So how did the greatest Briton of recent centuries end up a villain among semi-respectable academics? And how, nearly 80 years after the Shoah, have people been openly celebrating on the streets of Britain and America? In part, because the truth needs to be retold and passed down from generation to generation. This is precisely what Moses is doing at the beginning of Devarim.

By the time we reach Devarim, all the adult generation who came out of Egypt — with the exception of Moses, Joshua, and Caleb — have died, as per the punishment in Parshat Shlach. Moses is repeating the history to the people who are here now. He doesn't want us to end up like the film Groundhog Day, condemned to repeat the same mistakes again and again. He rebukes us so that we remember the miracles and the missteps — so we don't allow nostalgia or political expedience to colour our view of events.

If the entire community does not actively remember, then — as the late Queen Elizabeth II put it — "recollections may vary." Once that happens, we lose an essential part of what makes us Jewish: the collective memory of our people. That includes remembering how fortunate we are to have been chosen by G‑d — Ashreinu! If we remember that, we will treasure the Torah and the Mitzvot. Our future will be assured, even though we cannot know what it is until we get there.

"You will not be able to see My face, for man shall not see Me and live… you will see My back but My face shall not be seen."

— G‑d to Moses, Parshat Ki Tisa (Exodus 33:20, 23)

We cannot know the mind of G‑d, and things will not always be clear to us today. But if we remember and obey His Commandments, we will endure — and everything will make sense in the end.

Shabbat Shalom