Parshat Ha’azinu 5766

Sitting at my desk yesterday, still weary from the fast of Yom Kippur, it occurred to me just how appropriate this week’s Torah portion is not only to this sacred season but also to the recent weather conditions we’ve been experiencing. As I listened to the continuous sound of rain falling outside my window I couldn’t help but identify with the words of Moshe Rabbaynu. In his final song to the people of Israel, Moshe begins:

Let my discourse come down as the rain;
Let my speech distil as the dew;
Like showers on young growth,
Like droplets on the grass.

After forty years in the wilderness, the great leader of Israel speaks to his people one last time. He reminds them of God’s beneficence, how God watched over them in the wilderness and how God would bless them with an abundance of good when they entered the Promised Land. Yet despite all that God did for the children of Israel and would do for the people, Moshe predicts that the nation would repay God with ingratitude and rebellion. He tells the people that they would eventually forsake “the God who made them and spurn the rock of their support.”

Parshat Ha’azinu does not contain a very happy message. After all that he had done, Moshe felt that he had not succeeded in reaching his people. In prophetic tones, he predicts that Israel would come to reject God and that God, in turn, would hide His face from the nation. In the end, Moshe says that God would refrain from punishing Israel not because they are worthy of His kindness but because the other nations would come to think less of God’s ability to redeem Israel. Moshe appears to end his career with frustration, disillusionment and sorrow. It seems like an odd way to end the Torah and to end a glorious career.

Then again, I don’t believe Moshe is so different from most Rabbis today. When the holidays are over we rabbis experience a tremendous sense of let down. We have one chance to speak to our congregation. And when we are done, we wonder if the people were really listening – if our words will make a difference.

Still the message in this week’s Parshah is not completely hopeless. I began to wonder why Moshe compares his teaching to rain and dew, especially since he was living in an arid wilderness. This seems like an odd metaphor for speaking about the teachings of the Torah.

Commenting on this verse the medieval commentator, Rashi, points out that rain can be a blessing or a curse, depending on how you see it. For those who were trying to walk to synagogue Yom Kippur morning, all that rain was a curse. More than a few people complained to me as if I were somehow responsible for the weather. When one person asked me why it rained on Yom Kippur and suggested I should have done something about it, I gave my standard answer whenever someone asks me about the weather: “Sorry, I’m in sales not management; my boss doesn’t consult me about the weather!”

For those who have been aware of the drought that has been hanging over the Metropolitan New York area in recent weeks, all this rain is actually a wonderful blessing. Of course it would have been better if we received it a little at a time instead of all at once. But we have to take it however we get it. In the scheme of things, the rain will turn out to be a blessing in the months and years ahead.

So maybe that is the point of Moshe’s rainy metaphor for the teachings of Torah. When Moshe tells the people that his message is like rain and dew, he’s really telling them: “You might not like what I’m about to tell you. It may even sound depressing. But I hope that by raining on your parade today I will be able to water the seeds buried deep in your souls and that some day what I have to say to you will begin to make sense. No one likes to be rained on, but we know that in the end a few rainy days will assure our future vitality and well being.

This is how Rabbi Simcha Bunum of Peshizcha understood the words in today’s Parsha. Commenting on this verse he said: “Words of Torah are like the rain. The rain does not reveal its influence on vegetation immediately but saturates the earth and germinates seeds. So too, Torah don’t begin to influence us right away. When we first hear them we don’t sense their positive affect they will have on us. Just the opposite - they may even be inconvenient and uncomfortable. But over time they begin to positively influence those who are open to them.” Rabbi Simcha Bunam suggests that like a seed, words of Torah germinate deep in our soul and only begin to grow later. We can’t always know how the study of Torah will influence us.

In these days after Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I hope each of us will take the time to nurture the seeds planted deep in our soul. If we put these holy days behind us, they may be forgotten and lost. Rather, we ought to take the time to think about what we learned and heard in synagogue and how we can apply the lessons of the Yamim Noraim to our daily lives. We might not even have liked everything we heard – we rarely are happy when a rabbi’s words challenge or chastise us. But like the rain, the words and teachings of the High Holy days can cause new blossoms to grow and develop.

We shouldn’t let go of the spirit of this season either. The holiness of Yom Kippur gives birth to the happiness of Sukkot. These few days in between the two observances are filled with frenetic activities and preparations. There’s a Sukkah to build, a Lulav and Etrog to purchase (come and join us tomorrow morning at our Sukkah shuk), and guests to invite. There is something for everyone. And there are still apologies to be made and resolutions to keep in the coming days leading up to Hoshanah Rabbah. I remember reading somewhere that most New Year resolutions are broken with thirty days – so if you made a resolution you are more likely to live up to it if you act now and don’t put it off. There were so many powerful words and promises we made in synagogue this past week – now is the opportunity to set new patterns for our lives for the year ahead.

I ‘d ask you all to consider making just one Jewish resolution for the coming year. If you make too many you won’t live up to any of them. As the saying goes, “Tafasta merubah lo tafasta.” If you bite off too much you will land up with nothing. Make it something small – something at which you know you can succeed and something that you’ve always wanted to do and just never got around to doing.

My friend Danny Siegel suggests that when it comes to doing Mitzvot you should consider first what you are really good at and what you enjoy and then apply those answers to your spiritual life. For instance if you love music and can play the piano (neither of which I can do) maybe you can offer to visit local nursing home once to play for the residents. I guarantee you – even if you’re not the greatest pianist, the residents will tell you that you are and will appreciate your presence all the more.

But I won’t preach to you any more today. You’ve already heard enough for me. I just hope that Rabbi Crespy’s, Jolene’s, Jonathan’s, Carl’s, Jeff’s, Joel’s and my teachings will be with you in the weeks and months ahead. I hope you’ll think back from time to time and that what we shared with you will begin to bear fruit – especially with all the rain we’ve been having.

But that’s enough rain, for now. We haven’t even recited the prayer for geshem yet. And it’s time to start building our Sukkah!!

Shabbat Shalom