Parshas Devarim - Get Out of the Back Seat
💠A Thought on the Parsha: Get Out of the
Back Seat The
Ramban describes that the final sefer of the Torah serves three main
purposes. One theme of Sefer Devarim is to repeat many of the mitzvos
already commanded earlier in the Torah. For this reason, Sefer Devarim is
often referred to as “Mishna Torah”, meaning “repetition of the Torah”.
Another function of Sefer Devarim is to introduce some mitzvos which,
although taught already on Har Sinai, were not yet written in the actual
sefer Torah. Some of these mitzvos include hilchos yibum, motzei
shem ra, geirushin, and eidim zomimin .
The third facet of Sefer Devarim is to document Moshe's mussar to the B'nei
Yisroel. As
in every area of Moshe's life, the final mussar Moshe gave to the
B'nei Yisroel was calculated based on da'as Torah and ratzon Hashem. Rashi explains
that it was no coincidence that Moshe waited until this particular point to
rebuke the B'nei Yisroel. Moshe understood that the time of his death was
approaching and therefore chose this moment to give mussar to the
B'nei Yisroel. He learned this from Yaakov avinu. Yaakov too waited
until his deathbed in order to offer his divrei mussar to his sons.
Rashi continues to explain some reasons brought by chazal as to why one
should not give mussar except immediately before death: In order that
he should not rebuke him and then have to do so again, and in order that the
one getting the mussar should not be embarrassed to later face the one
who rebuked him. This
was not the only calculated aspect of Moshe's final speech to B'nei Yisroel.
The passuk describes that Moshe gave mussar to the entire
B'nei Yisroel. However, certainly this was not necessary. After all, there
were many people among the B'nei Yisroel who took no part in any of the
activities that Moshe rabbeinu was giving mussar about. So why
was it mandatory attendance for everyone? Rashi points out that this was done
purposely to circumvent a potential issue. Moshe was concerned that if he
only give mussar to part of B'nei Yisroel, then the part
which was not there would later come and say to those who were, “You heard
from the son of Amram [i.e- a disrespectful way of referring to Moshe] and
did not respond at all with such-and-such a point. Had we been there, we
would have answered him...” Therefore, Moshe invited everyone to attend and
share their thoughts so no one would be able to come later and say, “Had I
been there I would have said x, y, or z back to Moshe.” Upon
reading this Rashi, a moshol immediately comes to mind. Anyone who has
played chess among friends is certainly aware of the annoying onlooker who
seems to know how to get every opponent into “check-mate”. As you try to
concentrate on your game of chess you keep turning your head and rolling your
eyes at the guy breathing over your shoulder staring at the chess board
speaking to himself with a megaphone, “Ooh! I could win in four moves. Should
I tell you where to go? Are you sure you do not want me to help you?” As
annoying as it is to you, when the game is finally over and it is now your
turn to watch someone else play, you too instinctively find yourself playing
better as an onlooker than the one in the seat. Whether
it is true that an onlooker plays a better game of chess than the one
actually playing or not is debatable. On the one hand, perhaps the onlooker
is indeed in a better position because of the lack of pressure. However, on
the other hand, perhaps the onlooker's feeling is baseless and really it is
only because he is not putting in the same concentration or developing a
long-term strategy, as the real player is, to see the flaws of his “great
moves”. Either way, there seems to be a real sense of “back seat driver
syndrome” which exists in the world and Moshe rabbeinu was trying to avoid
this. He did not want to have any onlookers to “know better”, or any back-seat
drivers who would swear to have done things differently. Instead, Moshe
wanted everyone to be involved and therefore unable to later say, “You should
have said this or you should have responded that”. This
Rashi, however, is difficult to understand. Did Moshe really resolve this
problem with his solution? Let us turn back to our chess moshol and
see. Imagine that it is now the know-it-all onlooker's turn to play in the
actual game of chess. He plays, makes some bad moves and ultimately loses the
game. Does this mean that objectively there were no better moves he could
have made? Of course not. Could the back-seat driver make mistakes when he is
in the driver’s seat? Certainly! The probability of getting into an accident
does not decrease when back seat drivers get behind the wheel. All that changes
is where the person is situated, however the hypothetical efficiencies or improvements
that an onlooker or back seat driver could point out are still virtually
there. If so, how could we understand what Moshe did to solve the problem he
was faced with? If Moshe was trying to give indisputable mussar, how would making
the “onlooker” into a “player” solve this? The external truths and refutes
still exist and could be thought of at a later point. The fact that there is
now a larger crowd under the spotlight should not reduce the fear of an
argument erupting in the future. In
order to understand this Rashi, it seems that there is a slightly different
or deeper explanation in the words of Rashi. It must be that the fact alone
that the entire B'nei Yisroel was present and listened without interruption
was indeed the solution to Moshe's dilemma, despite the possibility that a
cynic could always show up later and find some fault to refute the mussar.
To continue with our example, when one sits down to play a game of chess, he
may know that the rationalization exists that had he only been an onlooker,
he could have won. Nevertheless, he sits down to play the game and will
accept the outcome as a fair win or loss. It is true that external moves exist
and it is true that he may have played a better pretend game as part of the
audience, but the fact that he was willing to put that aside is a sign that
he is all ears. The
part of B'nei Yisroel who were not the direct subject of Moshe's mussar would
have remained on the side lines. However, by Moshe joining them in the
proverbial game and them not speaking out, they were doing more than just not
speaking. They were acknowledging the fact that despite any external
arguments which may have existed, Moshe was speaking the truth and that there
was a relevant lesson in it for all of them. The
three weeks, leading into the nine days and ending with Tisha B'av is a time
for reflecting upon the sins of B'nei Yisroel as a whole and the
ramifications thereof throughout history. Yet, for most of us it becomes a
time when we fall subject to the back-seat driver or chess-onlooker syndrome
in one of two ways. Some read through the mistakes of B'nei Yisroel and
think: “Had I been there I would not have made those same mistakes”. Others
may read through the kinnos and the mussar of the nevi'im and
think: “I could refute his argument in this way or that way”. We must
realize, though, that these types of thoughts and beliefs are truly baseless
and stem from looking for refutations instead of listening to the mussar.
Instead,
we must ask ourselves if we are even really mere onlookers entitled to
disassociation in the first place. The gemara says, “ein arud meimis elah
ha'cheit meimis” - “It is not the snake which kills but rather the sin
that kills”. The two Batei Mikdashim
were destroyed not because there were enemy armies we could not defend
ourselves from, but rather because our disconnection with Hashem became too
great. It is easy to turn around now and say, “Well if I was there, there is
no way I would have done that”. However, one who thinks this is really
missing the point. Following the aforementioned theme we must realize that
there is nothing preventing the Beis Hamikdash from returning
other than the fact that the initial aveiros which destroyed the Batei
Mikdashim are indeed still present today. The
gemara tells us that one of the reasons the second Beis Hamikdash
was destroyed was because of sinas chinum. This also means, by
extension, that one of the reasons the Beis Hamikdash continues
to not return on a daily basis is for this same reason. Every day Hashem
wants to give us the Beis Hamikdash but He says, “How could I
give it back if there is still sinas chinum?” We could be
ignorant and say, “If Hashem would tell this to us we would argue and say,
“Impossible! – Look at all the chesed, social networking, and
friendships which exist....” However, what we must understand is that any
cynic could find an argument; better chess moves will always exist, and even
the best back-seat drivers could make mistakes at the wheel. The key is to
accept the position regardless, by stopping to listen to what is being said,
just as the B'nei Yisroel chose to ignore the external truths
to refute Moshe and instead accept the mussar as interested listeners. Tisha
B'av has a deep connection to us despite the fact that we feel we are
mourning an event which took place such a long time ago. On the yomim tovim
we acknowledge the fact that there is a different atmosphere which is
present. We do not just commemorate past events, but rather relive them on a
spiritual level. When it comes to Tisha B'av as well we must
feel this time as a period of mourning on a personal level for once again
failing to correct our aveiros of destruction, which prevent us from
reconnecting to Hashem on a level which merits a Beis Hamikdash.
May
Hashem help us on our mission to fix our aveiros of destruction by
helping us hear the mussar of the nevi'im, reflected in the kinnos,
which were ignored in the past. With this in mind, may we experience Tisha
B'av as a yom tov and witness what we implore Hashem
multiple times a day in Aleinu, “...Then all humanity will call upon
Your Name, to turn all the earth's wicked toward You. All the world's
inhabitants will recognize and know that to You every knee should bend, every
tongue should swear...on that day Hashem will be One and His Name will be
One.” |
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