Rabbi Dov Kramer on the Parsha

Taking a Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)

Although our Parasha is referred to as “Ki Savo” (or sometimes just “Savo”), the first word of the Parasha is “v’haya,” meaning “and it will be” (Devarim 26:1). The Sifre’s comment on this word has led to much discussion, including whether the Sifre actually commented on this word. The Sifre’s second comment (or first, if there was no comment on “v’haya”) has also led to much discussion, with some using the latter to explain the former. Let’s take a closer look at this Sifre.

The Parasha starts by teaching us the mitzvah of “Bikurim,” bringing the first fruits to the Temple, a mitzvah that didn’t apply until we entered the Promised Land, conquered it, and divided it up by assigning specific portions to each Tribe and to each family within the Tribe (see Rashi on 26:1). It is therefore seems quite puzzling that the Sifre starts off by telling us that the word “v’haya” always means “immediately.” How could the Sifre tell us that the mitzvah of “Bikurim” applied “immediately” if it didn’t apply until 14 years later? For this reason, several commentators insist that these words were never really part of the Sifre. And, in fact, if you look at the way the Sfre is quoted by Yalkut Shimoni, these words are put in parenthesis, indicating that they do not really belong. The same is true of the Sifre printed with Malbim’s commentary, although Malbim acknowledges that it is in older manuscripts of the Sifre. Last year (5769), Raavad’s commentary on the Sifre was published. Since he comments on these words, he obviously had them in his version of the Sifre. Midrash Hagadol and Midrash Lekach Tov, which are compilations of Midrashim made by Rishonim (early commentators), both include this explanation of the word “v’haya,” so they must have had this comment in their versions of the Sifre as well. This led Rabbi Dovid Pardo (Sifre D’vei Rav) to say that despite the difficulty with this comment, it would still be difficult to just erase these words from the Sifre.

The Sifre’s second comment is also puzzling, as it tells us that by using the opening words “and it will be when you come to the land” to teach us this mitzvah, Moshe was telling the nation to “do the mitzvah that is discussed here, for as its reward you will enter the land.” How can the reward (being able to enter the Promised Land) come years before the mitzvah that it is a reward for can be done?

As I mentioned, these issues are addressed by numerous commentators, and some of their approaches (or aspects of their approach) are incorporated below. For those interested in seeing the sources I used (or was “mechaven” to), as well as others that address one or both of these issues, please see Raavad, Haga’os U’Biurim L’Chacham Kadmon Sefardi, Toldos Udum, Sifre D’vei Rav, Malbim, Meir Ayin, Otzer Hamidrashim, and Sefer Sarasi.

Sifre D’vei Rav says that the usual way of saying that the mitzvah currently being discussed brings about the reward just mentioned is “do this mitzvah,” not “do the mitzvah discussed here.” By telling us that the mitzvah to be done is “what is discussed here” (and not just “this one,” the Sifre is alluding to the previously discussed mitzvah, not the one that is about to be discussed. In this case, the previously discussed mitzvah was remembering that Amelek did everything they possibly could to prevent us from carrying out G-d’s mission, and because they would always keep trying, to wipe them out. We had to wait until after we were in a position to carry out the last part (which would be after appointing a king), but the “remembering “ part, which was a prerequisite to carrying out the rest of the mitzvah, had to be done right away (and be done consistently). It makes sense that being able to enter the Promised Land would result from fulfilling this mitzvah, as if we start the process of avenging “G-d’s war” (see Shemos 17:16), He will give us the tools necessary to finish it, which includes getting the land and settling it.

Sifre D’vei Rav brings a similar example from the Sifre’s comments regarding appointing a king (Devarim 17:14). Moshe also prefaces that mitzvah with “when you enter the land” (although there is no “v’haya” there), upon which the Sifre says, “do the mitzvah discussed here, for as its reward you will enter the land.” Sound familiar? The same issue we had on the Sifre’s second comment in our Parasha applies here. However, if the Sifre is referring to the mitzvah discussed right before this one (making sure we have a judicial system that has a central authority, with the same laws applying to everybody, see www.rabbidmk.posterous.com/parashas-shoftim-5770), it makes sense. Moshe is telling us that if we put things into place now, at Arvos Moav when everyone is together, we can cross the Jordan River and spread out without being concerned that each locale will have its own set of laws. If the mitzvah we must start to keep in order to enter the Promised Land can be done before we cross into it, this second issue is resolved.

There is one slight problem with Sifr D’vei Rav’s approach. The Sifre never uses the expression “do this mitzvah,” so the expression “do the mitzvah discussed here” doesn’t necessarily mean “the mitzvah just discussed;” this could be the way the Sifre says “do the following mitzvah.” As a matter of fact, the Sifre uses the expression “do the mitzvah that is discussed here” seven times (all in Devarim). Nevertheless, the same issue of being rewarded before the mitzvah can be done would apply to the other five as well.

The first (Devarim 12:20) is rather straight-forward, as the reward of widened boundaries (and an allowance for eating meat outside the Temple compound) comes if we follow the previously described mitzvah of eating all the offerings by the Temple. The reward of G-d “cutting down the nations [in Canaan] from before us” (12:29) comes for “doing one mitzvah discussed here” (the only instance where the word “one” is added), which implies either one of the mitzvos discussed previously (not eating blood and bringing all of your offerings to the Temple) or one of the mitzvos about to be discussed (not worshipping the deities the nations worshipped and not worshipping G-d using the forms of worship they used for their deities). Since the ones described afterwards include the expression “after they have been destroyed from before you” (12:30), it would be kind of difficult for the reward for doing something after they were destroyed to be getting rid of them. Therefore, here too, it must be doing a mitzvah previously discussed that brings about this reward. The next one (18:9) is a bit trickier, as the mitzvah described before the reward of entering the land is either allowing Kohanim to perform services in the Temple even when it is not their turn (see Rashi on 18:7) or not “learning to do the abominations of these nations.” If we can assume these things (i.e. “Molech” and black magic) were known about even before they crossed the Jordan River, it would be at least as likely that “being completely faithful to Hashem, your G-d” (18:13) would be the mitzvah referred to. However, here the Sifre adds the word “bisecharcha” (“as your reward”) to end its comment, separating the reward (and what turns out to be its cause) from the next mitzvah. Here too, we see the expression “discussed here” to be referring to the previously discussed mitzvah. Similarly, (18:14) is to drive out the nations living there after having crossed into the land rather than the reward being to cross over in the first place; if we don’t mimic their ways after we cross, we will be able to drive them out. (The mitzvah discussed after this one being a continuation of what was discussed before it, and that one being the one after the previous “reward,” makes it impossible for the expression to mean “the next mitzvah.”) The fifth (19:8) discusses the cities of refuge, as we will be rewarded with wider boundaries, necessitating additional cities of refuge, if we set up the cities of refuge properly in our original boundaries. In this case, it is the same mitzvah, so the Sifre must be referring to setting up the first cities of refuge in order to merit needing to set up additional ones. Therefore, although one of Sifre D’vei Rav’s main arguments for his approach (that the Sifre would use a different expression) falls away, I think the approach itself is valid, and is pretty much implied in some the seven cases.

We are still left with our first question, how the Sifre could say that “v’haya” means immediately if the mitzvah of “Bikurim” won’t start until years after entering the land. However, the verse (26:1) doesn’t just mention “entering the land,” it also mentions “inheriting it and dwelling in it,” i.e. conquering it and dividing it up, and the mitzvah of “Bikurim” does start immediately after that. The question becomes why we would think otherwise, necessitating the Torah to tell us that it starts immediately after everyone is settled, and/or why the Sifre had to point it out to us.

Once we’ve established that “v’haya” doesn’t mean “right this second,” but “right after certain conditions have been met” (i.e. right after the land was conquered and divided up), everything falls into place. When the prophet (Micha 4:1) tells us that “it will be at the end of days,” the “v’haya” teaches us that it will occur right away, at the beginning of the “end of days,” not well after they have started. Although the mitzvah of remembering what Amalek did started right away, the mitzvah to wipe them out didn’t start until after there was a king. Nevertheless, since it started right after the first king was appointed, Moshe used the word “v’haya.” Appointing the king, though, was not required right away (and if anything, should have been delayed more), so there is no “v’haya” there. In order to contrast the “coming to the land” regarding appointing a king and the “coming to the land” regarding “Bikurim,” Moshe had to add “v’haya” by the latter and leave it out by the former. Additionally, as the Malbim points out, the mitzvah of separating “Chalah” from dough did not apply to dough that was already kneaded, only to dough that was kneaded after the land was conquered and divided up. Similarly, the prohibition against “Urlah” (fruit from the first three years) didn’t apply to trees that had already been planted, only to those that were planted after the land was conquered and divided up. “Bikurim,” on the other hand, applied even to something that had been planted before the land was conquered. Therefore, Moshe told them that “Bikurim” applied “immediately.” Not “immediately” after they entered the Promised Land, but “immediately” after it was conquered and divided up.

Rabbi Dov Kramer on the Parsha

Taking a Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)

“For Hashem your G-d is repulsed by all who do these things.” Although I have translated the word “to’aiva” as “repulsive,” the most commonly used translation is “abomination.” This term is used by the Torah to describe numerous things, indicating that they are more than just “wrong,” but “repulsive.” The section of the verse quoted above actually appears twice in our Parasha. The first time (Devarim 22:5) it is used to describe G-d being “repulsed” by cross-dressing, i.e. men wearing women’s clothing or women wearing men’s clothing. The second time (25:16), it describes G-d being repulsed by dishonest business practices. However, when discussing how detestable cheating others is, besides saying “all who do these things” the Torah adds, “all who are involved in deception.” Why does the Torah use two phrases, rather than just one? What does the second phrase teach us that we wouldn’t know if there were only one phrase?
On one level, this added phrase indicates that dishonesty is considered worse than other “abominations.” It is interesting to note that while stealing is not called an “abomination,” stealing via deception is. Does it really matter how one cheats (or is cheated)? Why is taking something from others through misrepresentation worse than taking it behind their back, or by force? Why is G-d super-repulsed by those who cheat others through deception more than other forms of cheating and stealing?
Numerous suggestions have been given to explain the Torah using two phrases (e.g. Midrash Hagadol, Or Hachayim, Kli Yakar and Netziv). The context of the verses, which discuss having deceptive weights and measurements without any mention of actually using them, indicates that the “abomination” refers to “those who do these things,” i.e. have the tools with which to deceive others, even if they never use them. Merely owning an inaccurate scale, weight or measure is an “abomination,” let alone using it. The verse may therefore be telling us that it is an abomination to have the means of deceiving others, and an additional abomination to actual deceive others (a “double abomination”). Owning the tools to deceive is worse than just stealing because it is then much easier to become a repeat offender. The institutionalization of deception is therefore more of an abomination. Nevertheless, the second phrase, which refers to the deception itself rather than the institutionalization of deception, teaches us that stealing via deception (even if it’s not “institutionalized”) is an abomination. We would still need to explain why stealing via deception is more “repulsive” than other theft.
In Mishlay (Proverbs), Sh’lomo HaMelech (King Solomon) refers to the “repulsiveness” of deception several times. However, whereas one verse that mentions non-standard weights and measures being an “abomination” (20:10) is set in a context of kindness and honesty (20:6), innocence (20:7 and 20:9), and purity and being straight/just (20:11), the verse that speaks of “deceitful scales” being an “abomination” (11:1) appears in a context of righteousness and wickedness (10:30-32) and sin and modesty (11:2). Because the context here is “dayos” (how we mentally approach things) rather than action, the Ralbag understand it to be referring to thinking straight (not crooked) rather acting straight (not crooked). “For G-d is repulsed by those who weigh their thoughts with deceitful scales, meaning [those] who don’t know to be careful during contemplation from things that mislead, as this is among [the things] that bring one to making great (i.e. large) wrong arguments which will bring about a great amount of heavy destruction. However, [G-d’s] will is that they (the ideas being contemplated) be weighed with a ‘perfect stone’ that doesn’t have anything extra nor anything missing, and this is [accomplished] by watching the ways and the orders that straighten a person out by guarding from making mistakes in the thought process.”
Rabbeinu Yonah (Mishlay 20:10) says that Sh’lomo would not just repeat the commandments of the Torah, so each of the three mentions of deceitful weights, measures and scales much be teaching us an added dimension. According to Rabbeinu Yonah, the first mention in Mishlay of deceit being an “abomination” (11:1) refers to lying (even if the untruth doesn’t bring monetary gain), the second (20:10) refers to a “deceitful heart” (similar to the Ralbag’s explanation of the first mention), and the third (20:23) refers to taking back compensation from someone who cheated you through deceit; even if money was stolen from you, deceitful tactics can’t employed to get the money back since deceit is always an “abomination.”
It can therefore be suggested that reason the Torah added the second phrase of “all those who act deceitfully” in our Parasha is to include not just making (and using) deceitful weights and measures, but any kind of deceit, whether it be lying to others, or lying to oneself by being less than objective during contemplation.
The Talmud (Sanhedrin 92a) equates lying, or more specifically, misrepresenting things through words, with idol worship. The Maharsha says that this comparison is made because truth is the basis for the Torah, whereas other belief systems are built on falsehood. Therefore, dealing in falsehood is tantamount to giving credence to false beliefs. As the Talmud says in numerous places (e.g. Shabbos 55a), “the seal of G-d is ‘truth.”
If what separates the Torah (and worshipping the One True Creator) from everything else is its truth, deceit undermines its value and authority. Acting deceitfully either means not subscribing to the same value system as the Torah, or not believing it to be true. Either way, a supposedly Torah-observant person who acts deceitfully creates the biggest kind of “chillul Hashem,” profaning of G-d’s name, as the message it sends is that the G-d of the Torah is not truthful, and/or is not true. Stealing is bad enough, but when done through deceit, it is a complete “abomination,” and extremely repulsive to the One True G-d.

Rabbi Dov Kramer on the Parsha

Taking A Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)


“When a matter of judgment becomes hidden from you, between blood [and] blood, between court case [and] court case, and between affliction [and] affliction, words of disagreement within your gates, and you shall get up and you shall go up to the place that Hashem your G-d has chosen” (Devarim 17:18). Unlike our secular courts, where the lower courts issue rulings that determine the law unless or until it is overturned by a higher court, Jewish law is determined at the top. Either it was taught to Moshe by G-d, who taught it to Yehoshua, etc, or it was determined by the Jewish Supreme Court, the Sanhedrin. If there was ever a doubt as to what the law was, or if a disagreement ever arose between courts as to what the law was, the case was brought before the higher courts to see if they knew what the law was, and it kept being “kicked” up to a higher court until either it came before a court that knew the law, or the Sanhedrin deliberated and determined the law (Rambam, Hilchos Mamrim 1:4). It would seem, though, that this could have been stated in a much more concise manner; “If a question about the law ever arises, get ye to the Sanhedrin!” Why were these three categories (blood, court cases and afflictions) delineated?

Maharal suggests that these categories represent three areas of life, the self (afflictions, i.e. “tzoraas”), the household (represented by the wife, i.e. her emissions of “blood”), and society (court cases, both civil and criminal). The implication is that in all areas of life, the law is determined through the “Halachic System,” with the law either being passed down from a previous generation or determined by the halachic authority (the Sanhedrin). Even so, mentioning the categories should have sufficed; mentioning each category twice, using the expression “between blood/case/affliction and blood/case/affliction,” needs to be explained. Why didn’t the Torah just say, “When a matter of judgment regarding blood, court cases or afflictions becomes hidden from you, you shall go up to the place that G-d has chosen?”

The Tosefta (Horiyos 1:5) uses these words to prove that the procedure followed (i.e. which offerings to bring to atone for the mistake) if the Sanhedrin issues an incorrect ruling only applies when a law within a category is disregarded, not when a whole category is disregarded (“between blood and blood,” not when there are no laws regarding blood). Nevertheless, in order to learn this concept we would only need the extra words by one category, not by all three.

Rashi explains this extra verbiage as the question arising “between blood that is tamay (ritually impure) [and] blood that is tahor (ritually pure), between a verdict of innocence [and] a verdict of guilt (or obligation), and between an affliction that is tamay [and] an affliction that is tahor.” In other words, the Torah is laying out for us what the doubt is about; is the blood tamay or not, is the defendant off the hook or not, and is the affliction tamay or not. However, this would seem obvious too, as what other options are there? Even though Rashi helps us read the words, he doesn’t seem to help us understand why those “extra” words are there.

Rashi’s explanation is difficult for another reason as well. Not just because the Talmud (Sanhedrin 87a and Nidah 19a, see also Yerushalmi Sanhedrin 11:3) and Sifray (152) explain the verse differently, but because the Talmud (Nidah 19a) rejects the explanation that Rashi uses. The Mishna discusses which colors of blood are tamay, implying that there are some colors of blood that are not. The Talmud asks how we know that there is any blood that is not tamay; maybe all blood is tamay, no matter what color it is. The first answer given is based on our verse, that the extra words indicate that there is blood that is tamay and blood that is tahor, and a doubt arose as to which is which. The Talmud then proves that this can’t be what the verse means, as the third category would then be distinguishing between afflictions that are tamay and afflictions that are tahor, and there are no “afflictions” that are tahor. The term “affliction” (“nega”) only applies if it is tamay; if it is tahor, a different term is used. The Talmud then gives us the “real” explanation of the extra verbiage, that the Torah is referring to sub-categories, which match (or almost exactly match) the sub-categories the Talmud gives in Sanhedrin and the Sifray gives on our verse (the blood of a “nidah,” “yoledes” and “zavah,; a criminal case that involves a capital offense, other criminal cases, and cases that involve monetary issues; and afflictions of the body, of a house and of a garment). Finally, the Talmud proves that there must be blood that is tahor, as if all blood was tamay, a question about it couldn’t have arisen that would need the Sanhedrin for clarification. (The Talmud explains why the Sanhedrin may have to get involved with inflictions even if they are all tamay, detailing what they might need to clarify.) Why didn’t Rashi use Chazal’s approach to explain the verse? How could Rashi use an explanation that the Talmud rejects?

Tzaidah LaDerech offers two possible explanations for Rashi. First he suggests that Rashi didn’t really mean “afflictions that are tahor,” since none exist. Rather, he meant conditions that are tahor and therefore not really afflictions. However, being that Rashi is trying to explain why the Torah uses the word “nega” twice, this possibility is a bit difficult to accept. Tzaidah LaDerech’s second approach is based on the fact that Rashi’s purpose in his commentary is to offer the simplest, most straightforward explanation of the words. Rashi will therefore sometimes choose explanations that the Talmud rejects, if it is the most straightforward way to explain them. Although Tzaidah LaDerech does enumerate several cases where Rashi chooses a minority opinion (or an opinion that is not consistent with the Talmud’s conclusion), using an opinion that is rejected outright seems to be taking this a step further. Even though we do find Chazal using this explanation for the words relating to “blood” (besides Nidah 19a, see Berachos 63b and Yerushalmi Nidah 2:6), and we should try to understand this explanation given its rejection (on Nidah 19a), nowhere is Rashi’s explanation of the words relating to “affliction” given; without a source for this explanation, and given it being rejected by the Talmud, how could Rashi use it?

At first glance, the Talmud’s initial question of how we know that any blood is tahor seems strange. After all, the Torah says explicitly (Vayikra 12:4-5) that a “yoledes” (one who gives birth) has a long stretch where any blood she sees is tahor. However, the Talmud is discussing colors, and asking how we know that there are certain colors of blood that are tahor; the blood of a “yoledes” is tahor even if it is a color that is normally tamay. The Talmud finally proves that there must be some colors that are always tahor because otherwise how would a doubt about whether she is tamay arise. This is not such a simple “proof,” though, as elsewhere (Sanhedrin 87b) the Talmud gives examples for each of the sub-categories of what kind of doubt could arise. For the sub-category of a “yoledes,” the example is whether or not there must be a break between the bleeding after childbirth and the bleeding that is not tamay. This has nothing to do with the color of the blood, so the category of “blood” that must be settled by the Sanhedrin does not really require that there be a color of blood that is tahor. Similarly, the example of the sub-category of a “zavah” has nothing to do with the color of the blood. It is only the sub-category of a “nidah” that revolves around the color of the blood. The Talmud using this sub-category to prove that some colors are tahor indicates that the extra words by each category are understood to be teaching us each of these sub-categories, and since each sub-category must have the possibility of needing clarification by the Sanhedrin, we know that there must be some color (or colors) of blood that are not tamay.

This explains why we need sub-categories by blood. What about the other two categories? Does the Torah point to their sub-categories only to remain consistent, or do we learn something from them as well? If the only sub-categories hinted to by the Torah’s extra words were under the blood category, then the possibility exists that rather than being sub-categories of cases that may need clarification by the Sanhedrin, the Sanhedrin may only be needed to distinguish between these categories, to determine where a certain type of bleeding is considered that of a “nidah, yoledes or zavah.” However, since we have sub-categories of afflictions as well, we know that this can’t be how to read the verse, as there is no way anyone can be confused as to whether the affliction is on a “person, house or garment.” The extra words that tell us that there are sub-categories by afflictions teach us that the Sanhedrin may have to clarify details within each category, not just to help us distinguish between them. It could be suggested that once we need sub-categories by two of the categories, the Torah kept the language consistent and referred to sub-categories of court cases as well. It is also possible that the Torah wants to teach us that all court cases, whether they involve financial issues, more serious crimes/sins, or less serious crimes/sins, must be clarified by the Sanhedrin; there cannot be one set of laws for one city or one Tribe and another set elsewhere, even if those differences are mutually agreed upon in each locale or by each group. There may be a division of federal, state and city law in our secular society, but by teaching us these sub-categories, the Torah is telling us that there must be one set of laws for all of Israel.

Once we’ve established that on the “d’rash” (exegetical) level the Torah is teaching us things about each category (and sub-category), we can return to how Rashi explains the verse on the “p’shat” level (its plain meaning). We can’t learn that there is such a thing as tahor blood by reading the extra words as “between blood that is tamay and blood that is tahor,” but once we’ve learned that through the “d’rasha,” it is now a viable way to read it as “p’shat.” The Talmud only rejected the “p’shat” reading as a source for the law, not as a way to read the verse once we know the law. The problem that remains is how Rashi could say that this is the “p’shat” by afflictions if there are no “afflictions” that are tahor.

But are there really no afflictions that are tahor? Previously (www.RabbiDMK.posterous.com/Parashas-TazriyaMetzora-5770) I have discussed the fact that an affliction does not become tamay until the Kohain declares it to be tamay. Whereas for blood the poseik (halachic decisor) tells us what its status was even before it was examined, the house (or garment or person) does not become tamay until after the Kohain’s declaration. This creates several anomalies, including the existence of a real affliction, one that will become tamay once the Kohain says it is an affliction, that is not yet tamay. It is an “affliction” that is “tahor” (see Shabbos 132b). When it comes to determining the status of an affliction, there is no such thing as an affliction that should be declared tahor. Therefore, when operating in the realm of determining status, the Talmud rejects the possibility of there being an affliction that is (i.e. should be declared) tahor. However, Rashi, operating on the “p’shat” level, is not reading the verse to determine its status, but to determine which kinds of cases to bring to the Sanhedrin for clarification; until it is clarified and declared to be an affliction, it is tahor.

Nevertheless, this “p’shat” is still problematic, as until there is clarification there would be no afflictions that are tamay, and reading the verse as “clarifying between afflictions that should be declared tamay and those that should be declared tahor” brings us back to the same problem of there not being any afflictions that shouldn’t be declared tamay. However, if we re-categorize the types of cases, this difficulty disappears.

As noted earlier, every Jewish law (when there was a Sanhedrin) was determined from the top. I have discussed why the Torah lists these three categories of law on the “d’rash” level (and why the sub-categories were necessary); what about on the “p’shat” level? Why didn’t the Torah just say that all laws must be clarified by the Sanhedrin? Would we think that any laws wouldn’t need to be brought to the Sanhedrin for clarification?

Let’s start with blood. If we are unsure whether the blood is tamay or not, we have two options. We can either try to clarify the situation, or be “machmir” (stringent), and just treat it as if it’s tamay. By including the category of blood, the Torah is telling us that we should clarify the law, not just avoid having to by acting stringently. Although the laws of ritual purity cannot vary from city to city (as either something is tamay or it isn’t), contractual law can, as each party is agreeing to the specific stipulations of the contract. Can a society determine which laws should govern the commerce done within its borders? What about how it deals with those that violate the law? By including the category of court cases, the Torah is telling us that the same standards and rules must apply to everyone, and if a doubt arises about any law detail, it can’t be decided locally (even if all agree to such “arbitration”). Civil laws, criminal laws and ritual laws must be brought to the central authority, even if all agree to abide by the decisions of the local authority, and to be “machmir” if ritual laws come into doubt. What about ritual laws that don’t apply until the determination is made? Must they be brought to the Sanhedrin too, or can we put their determination on hold, much like we do when we remove the items from the house before the Kohain looks at it, or delay showing the Kohain a potential affliction until after Yom Tov? The Torah includes this category too, telling us that we must go to the Sanhedrin to determine whether blood is tamay or tahor (we can’t just be “machmir”), decide innocence or guilt in a court case (we can’t have different societal laws), and declare the status of afflictions, as we can’t leave any afflictions tahor if they really are afflictions and should be declared tamay. Rather, in all these cases, “you shall get up and go up” to the Sanhedrin for clarification.

Rabbi Dov Kramer on the Parsha

Taking a Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)

Throughout Sefer Devarim, Moshe speaks to the Children of Israel about their imminent entry into the Promised Land. This land is sometimes described as “being given” (present tense), i.e. it wasn't ours until now but is about to be given to us. Other times, it is described as land that “was given to us” (past tense) or that was “given to our forefathers” (obviously also past tense).

These different tenses appear in very close proximity in our Parasha, with Moshe telling the nation that they are about to cross the Jordan River “to inherit the land that Hashem your G-d is giving you” (Devarim 11:31), followed shortly thereafter by Moshe telling them which commandments they should be careful to follow “in the land that Hashem the G-d of your forefathers gave to you” (12:1). The Chasam Sofer points out another anomaly, as the first set of verses is accompanied (11:32) by the need to keep all of the commandments, while the second is only accompanied by the commandment to remove all of the idols that were worshiped by the previous inhabitants (12:2).

In order to address both of these differences, the Chasam Sofer references the Ramban's approach to a different issue (quoted in the commentary originally attributed to the Ritva on Shabbos 88a). The Talmud says that the nation being put “under the mountain” (Shemos 19:17) refers to G-d threatening to kill them if they don't accept the Torah. Lest this be used an excuse not to keep the Torah (since we were “forced” to accept it), the Talmud says that this excuse was nullified in the days of Achashveirosh (after the Jewish nation was saved from Haman's decree to wipe them out) when the nation accepted the Torah willingly. The Ramban asks how, if the excuse wasn't nullified until after the Purim miracle (which occurred after the destruction of the first Temple), could the nation have been punished - prior to their accepting the Torah willingly - by being sent into exile? Although there are numerous approaches to answer this question, the Ramban suggests that even though (until the Purim miracle) they had been forced to accept the Torah, being given the Promised Land was conditional. As long as they observed G-d's commandments they could live on it, but if they didn't, they would lose it. Therefore, after they stopped keeping the Torah, G-d took the land away from them, and sent them into exile. This, the Chasam Sofer suggests, is what the first set of verses is referring to. G-d is (present tense) giving you the land on the condition that you keep all of His commandments.

Normally, if a non-Jew used something for idol-worship, it does not need to be destroyed; the misuse needs to be disavowed and the items nullified. Nevertheless, the Torah commanded the nation to destroy the items used for idol-worship, despite that worship having been done by the non-Jewish inhabitants of the land. The Chasam Sofer suggests that when the Children of Israel worshiped the golden calf, it gave implicit approval to the idol-worshiping going on in Canaan. In essence (he says) they were doing it on our behalf, which necessitated destroying those items. However, if we first got the land when we entered it, there would be no connection between our worshiping the golden calf and their worshiping idols. It is only because G-d had already given (via His promise) the land to our forefathers that this connection was made, as they were living on land that had already been given to us, and it was as if those items already belonged to us. Therefore, when commanding us to completely destroy those things used for idol-worship, the fact that it had already been given (past tense) to us (through our forefathers) is mentioned.

This provides a local explanation for the change from present to past tense; an explanation would still be necessary for each time the land being given to us is mentioned in either tense. Aside from the complexity involved in considering the idols“ours” before we ever entered the land, the most straight-forward reading of the verses is that the necessity to destroy them stems from the need to remove them so that we do not serve them too. I would therefore like to suggest a different reason for the tense changes, as well as why the commandments referred to switch from all of them to just the removal/destruction of the idols.

Several years ago (www.aishdas.org/ta/5765/eikev.pdf) I discussed how we become connected to our forefathers by following in their footsteps and continuing their mission. This manifests itself by keeping the Torah, thus allowing us to tap into the promises G-d made to them. G-d had promised He would give them the land of Canaan, not by giving it to them directly, but by giving it to their descendants. First, though, there had to be 400 years of “living in a land that did not belong to them,” which included the years Yitzchok spent in Gerar, Yaakov spent in Aram and Egypt, and the Children of Israel lived in Egypt. Had the generation of the exodus been worthy, they would have been able to enter the Promised Land right away, since the 400 (430 from the “Beris Bein Ha'besarim”) had already passed. Yet, Yitzchok didn't live in Gerar all of his life, and Yaakov lived in Canaan for a number of years as well. These years “counted” because the land wasn't really theirs yet (as evidenced by Avraham having to buy the plot to bury Sara). It was “promised” to them, and G-d's promise is as good as if it were given, but the land wasn't actually given yet.

The land wasn't “given” to us until four decades after the 400 years of “living in a land that wasn't theirs” had passed, because we weren't worthy yet. If the next generation wasn't worthy, they wouldn't have been given the land either. This is what Moshe was afraid might happen if Reuvein and Gad's request to keep the land on the east side of the Jordan affected the nation the way the report of the spies had affected them. There was no guarantee which generation would get the land, only that, eventually, the descendants of our forefathers would get it. Moshe was therefore telling them that if they want to be the generation that gets it (present tense), the have to keep the Torah and its commandments.

However, they didn't deserve to get the land on their own merit, but because it had been promised to their forefathers and were continuing their mission. This was emphasized in last week's Parasha (Devarim 9:4-6), when Moshe told them that they would not be able to conquer the land because of their own righteousness, but because of the sins of the nations that lived there coupled with the promise made to the forefathers. (The wickedness of the other nations is mentioned with both sides of the equation to make sure that they know that righteousness is not relative, and even if they are more righteous than the other nations they are only getting the land because of their forefathers.) In order to be reminded that even though they are being given (present tense) the land now, Moshe adds that it is only because it had been promised/given (past tense) to their forefathers.
Keeping the Torah is incumbent upon every generation. There is one specific commandment, though, that is directed at the generation the land is actually given to: destroying the idols that were there. (If this was done properly, it couldn't apply to any other generation.) Nevertheless, to make sure that they understood that despite fulfilling this commandment, which (ideally) only applied to them, the land was really given to them because of their connection with their forefathers (through their Torah observance), Moshe used the past tense; “you are getting the land now because it was promised to them.”