
Rabbi Lewis John Eron
Parshat Vaethanan
The Book of Deuteronomy, in general, and the Torah portion, in particular, can be read as a pep talk.
Moses, the soon-to-be retiring coach is prepping his team, the Israelites, for its next season. The training in the wilderness is ending, and shortly they will begin their next adventure — finding a home in Canaan, the land promised to their ancestors.
The Israelites are rookies. Although they were victorious in a few wars as they approached the Promised Land, they also took a few passes. They are still untested in battle and have little experience as settled people.
Moses does his best to remind them of the game plan, warn them about the obstacles and provide them with basic instructions. Above all, Moses wishes to inspire them. He repeatedly reminds them of the special relationship between God and the people of Israel, telling them they have a distinct identity, purpose, mission, expectations and responsibilities. He knows the difficulties before them and encourages them through warnings, threats and promises to stay true to the task.
Moses’ reassurance that there is a special relationship between God and Israel plays an important role in his pep talk, but it is neither an objective fact nor an exclusive claim. Moses speaks to and for his people. He uses it to encourage them and to help define their mission. It is for internal consumption. It is not self-evident. It is something our ancestors need to make manifest in their personal and communal lives.
As part of our unique spiritual heritage, we can think about and evaluate how our ancestors’ understanding of their special relationship with God, the election of the people of Israel, functioned and continued to function throughout Jewish history.
Was it successful? Does it remain helpful? How can we use it in ways that are contiguous with our past and appropriate for our present as we engage with our spiritual and cultural heritage?
Many find the expression “chosen people” difficult. When I was a young person, we often had discussions in youth group or a summer camp about what the term meant. What does it mean to be chosen? For what are we chosen? Maybe “choosing people” is better than “chosen people”? If the Jewish people are chosen, what about all other people?
Many of us may have received a mug with the phrase “World’s Greatest Mom” or “Dad.” This statement is not objectively true, but it, hopefully, reflects a subjective truth that the relationship we have with our children is warm, nurturing, loving and supportive. Every time we drink from the mug, these values are reinforced. The expression reminds us of our commitment to pursue that goal — to be the greatest for our children.
Choseness, as an objective truth, is problematic. Other nations have misused their sense of divinely ordained destiny to justify expansionism, imperialism, missionary zeal and xenophobia. Moses tempers this threat by associating election with holiness, humility and a commitment to a value system (Deut. 7:6-11). Choseness — or at least the benefits it can bestow — become conditional. It is up to us to maintain the relationship.
Parshat Vaethana is a pep talk to Israelites as they prepare to enter into the Promised Land. We, however, read it on the Shabbat after the fast Tisha B’Av, which concludes a period commemorating the great tragedies that befell the Jewish people, particularly the loss of the Temple, and exile.
Moses employs the idea of election to give strength and purpose to a generation that survived the trials of the wilderness. Does choseness still work today to overcome our sense of weakness evoked by our history and our current challenges?
Does it offer the message of serenity, hope, strength, courage and love we need today? Does it help us to proceed with the sense of honesty and humility, or does it present an undeserved sense of self-righteousness and pride? Is it a spiritual tool from our toolbox that we can use today, or should we keep it in the box and use another?
Rabbi Lewis Eron is the rabbi emeritus of Lions Gate CCRC in Voorhees, New Jersey. He graduated from the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College in 1981 and received a doctorate from the Religion Department of Temple University in 1987. The Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia is proud to provide diverse perspectives on Torah commentary for the Jewish Exponent. The opinions expressed in this column are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Board of Rabbis.
