Dear Friends,
This week’s Torah portion, Ki Tavo, offers some of the most dramatic images in the entire Torah. Early in the portion, the Israelites are told to position themselves between two mountains—Har Gerizim and Har Ebal. From the top of one of the mountains words of blessing were proclaimed. Thus the Torah states:
All these blessings shall come upon you and take effect, if you will but heed the word of your God.
Blessed shall you be in the city and blessed shall you be in the country.
Blessed shall be your issue from the womb, your produce from the soil, and the offspring of your cattle, the calving of your herd, and the lambing of your flock.
Blessed shall be your basket and your kneading bowl.
Blessed shall you be in your comings and blessed shall you be in your goings.
The message proclaimed from the top of the second mountain was rather different, however. From it came statements such as:
Cursed be any party who makes a sculptured or molten image, abhorred by God, a craftsman’s handiwork, and sets it up in secret. And all the people shall respond, Amen.
Cursed be the one who insults father or mother. And all the people shall say, Amen.
Cursed be the one who moves a neighbor’s landmark. And all the people shall say, Amen.
Cursed be the one who misdirects a blind person who is underway. And all the people shall say, Amen.
Cursed be the one who subverts the rights of the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. And all the people shall say, Amen.
Imagine standing among our ancestors millennia ago in a valley between two large mountains and hearing words of blessing from one side and words of curse from the other. What a powerful experience that must have been. And the message is clear: If our actions lead us toward one of the mountains—the mountain from which messages of love, respect, and commitment were being proclaimed—our lives will be a blessing. If, however, our actions lead us toward the other mountain, the mountain that rejects kindness, denies God’s presence, and focuses only on the self, our lives will take a different path.
Clearly, the Torah wanted our ancestors, and us, to understand that life is shaped by the choices we make. How we act, how we speak, how we treat one another are not neutral acts that occur in a vacuum. Instead, we make choices, and the choices we make lead us either toward blessing or toward curse.
The choice is ours.
The portion then moves into a series of tochacha—long and painful rebukes. In searing detail it describes what will happen if the covenant with God and one another is abandoned. The words are harsh, but the ultimate purpose of such dire warnings is not to crush us, but rather to wake us up and push us to choose the path of blessing. They remind us that our actions and our words have consequences.
We need that reminder now.
This week we’ve once again seen how words and harsh rhetoric can lead to violence. On Wednesday we were shockingly reminded that political speech that demonizes and dehumanizes doesn’t just evaporate into the air. Words that corrode trust have impact. So do words that wound. Ultimately, left unchecked, hateful words can ignite anger that spills into action. Thus, what begins with rhetoric too often ends in violence.
That is why Elul, the month leading to the High Holy Days, is so urgent. As I wrote last week, teshuvah—repentance and return—is not only about the big mistakes of our lives. It’s also about the small, daily choices we make: how we speak to one another, how we measure our words, how we make sure that what leaves our lips builds trust rather than tearing it down.
Shabbat itself is a kind of remedy to the malignant social norms that have taken hold. Tonight, our words will be words of blessing. We will recite the Kiddush over wine and be reminded of life’s sweetness. Some of us will pause to offer blessings to children (try it this evening, for there is no better way to end the week and enter into Shabbat). And the words of Torah that will be taught are intended not to divide but to uplift. This and every Shabbat remind us that we always have a choice: to constantly walk toward blessing or to let curse take hold.
As we move deeper into Elul, may our words bring blessing into our families, our community, and our society. And may we, by how we speak and how we live, help turn our world back toward compassion and peace.
Shabbat Shalom.
Rabbi Daniel M. Cohen