blogs/rabbi-huberman

In 2012, Israeli author Amos Oz wrote:

“Jewish continuity has always hinged on uttered and written words…Ours is not a bloodline, but a text line.”

In many ways, these words capture the Jewish journey over thousands of years.

Think about it. How was it possible, before 1948, for the Jewish people to survive, when countless nations repeatedly sought our elimination?

Last time I looked, there are no Babylonians, Assyrians or Ottomans on this earth. But we’re still here.

Over the centuries, despite having no land, no army, few defenders or champions, the Jewish people has endured when so many other nations have not.

Has it been due to our physical might? It has not.

In his book Jews and Words, Oz begins with an amazing observation.

“We are not about stones, clan or chromosomes,” he writes. “You don’t have to be an observant Jew. You don’t have to be a Jew…All you have to be is a reader.”

It all boils down to words.

When my younger brother, Ron, was born, my parents did not placate me with toys.

They invented a word game. “Mummy loves Daddy, Ronnie and Irwin.” “Daddy loves Mummy, Irwin and Ronnie.” “Irwin loves Ronnie, Mummy and Daddy.”

And in that simple and sweet way --with those words—we became a family founded upon love.

Countless times, against forbidding odds during the Jewish exile, the study of Torah, ethics and values and the lessons of kindness and fairness were passed from generation to generation. That is what has sustained us.

Even when we were forbidden to read the Torah, we found ways to keep its lessons alive, through discussion, debate and discourse.

So, it is significant that this week’s Torah portion, which begins the last of the Five Books of Moses, is titled Devarim—words. 

There are 23,008 words in Devarim, and it doesn’t take long for the Torah to get to the point.

“These are the words that Moses addressed to all of Israel on the other side of the Jordan.” (Deuteronomy 1:1)

For someone who had so much trouble expressing himself during his early days, at the end of his life, Moses has a lot to say.

He notes that during the 40 years the desert, with only words, the Israelites developed into a morally strong nation.

Indeed, the Torah was given and received at Mount Sinai without physical distractions.

Over time, we’ve seen that land and materialism cause nations to fight. Religious differences fuel wars.

Is there any better example than the history of the city of Jerusalem, where, from the Crusades to this day, its control is symbolic to so many.

The Torah never boasts about crushing other nations or religions, or acquiring land and possessions for personal or national gain, only to:

Be kind. Cherish family. Honor the privacy of others. Help someone before being asked to do so. Attempt to make peace before engaging in war.

The word “Torah” does not represent black letters on a scroll. It means teaching or—more precisely—instruction.

Think for a moment. What were some of the most important lessons you learned from your parents and grandparents? That oral chain of instruction has extended more than 3,000 years.

Our parents reminded us perhaps once or twice not to steal.

More often, they told us to share our toys, to comfort someone who may feel alone, shake hands at the end of a soccer game, get along with our brother and sister, and to never hurt someone’s feelings.

This “chain of life” has enabled the Jewish people to survive throughout the millennia.

We cherish and protect our children. We respect our grandparents and sanctify our families. And we do so through what we term our “oral tradition.” And that means words..

And so, as we begin the final book of the Torah, we remind ourselves that rather than worship materialism and transactions, the Jewish people has survived through an unyielding connection with Derech Eretz—“the right moral path to follow“– taught and transferred through devarim.

Isn’t it time we reclaim the importance and integrity of words?

Kind words do not represent moral weakness, but rather a sturdy, bold foundation that enables us to thrive, and for the world to flourish through mutual respect.

Even as we carry these teachings forward today, I believe there is a way to stand strong with Israel against a brutal foe while expressing compassion for those who suffer. Let us, therefore, use our words wisely.

As Amos Oz wrote more than a decade ago: You don’t have to be “observant” to be part of this enduring people.

As the Jewish people ends its time of wandering, Moses begins his final teaching by inspiring us to consider the value and integrity of words.

For without these devarim, we—like so many nations that have passed—are merely dust in the wind.

Indeed, as the world around us seems to close in, we continue to survive and thrive based on Moses’ final teaching.

Our present and our future are eternally linked to our actions—connected now and forever to the value and sanctity of words.

Shabbat shalom, v’kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman