A week or so ago I helped Akiva and Hillel complete a homework assignment for their 9th grade Talmud class. Their assignment was to prepare a selection from the commentary of Tosafot to the chapter of Talmud they are studying this year. The Tosafot commentaries were written by scholars in Northern France and Germany in the generation of Rashi’s grandchildren and included some of Rashi’s actual grandchildren. Their dialectical reasoning, comparing one passage of Talmud to another, noting contradictions and resolving them in creative ways, is considered to represent a revolutionary advancement in our ability to understand Talmud and halakhic thought more broadly.
Learning through this Tosafot with my children was among the most enjoyable experiences I have had in quite some time. The Tosafot itself was a lot of fun – and a group of us at shul learned it together last Shabbat afternoon before Mincha, but the nachas, the spiritual satisfaction of learning the Tosafot with my children was sublime. I had the feeling of receiving a precious gift of the all-too-rare opportunity to see how investment and fraught choices and anxiety can sometimes, (only sometimes and never conclusively or forever), but sometimes, things work out well.
I thought of the day school tuition, the supplementary tutoring, the learning programs at this shul like Parent Child Learning and Mishmar and Mishnah Club. I thought of the sleepless nights with infants and the diaper changes and pushing a double-stroller. And in the blink of an eye, we have children who learn Torah.
We all have moments like this, where we realize that somehow, gradually, things have changed, but it is only now, on the day, at this moment, that we can stop and see it
A key word in Parashat Nitzavim is HaYom “this day.” Moshe delivers a message, on what seems to be final day of his life, certainly the final day on which he leads and teaches and speaks to the people, and the Torah tells us that message is tailored for HaYom. אַתֶּ֨ם נִצָּבִ֤ים הַיּוֹם֙ כֻּלְּכֶ֔ם you are gathered, all of you הַיּוֹם֙ on this day. לְעׇבְרְךָ֗ בִּבְרִ֛ית ה אֱ-לֹהֶ֖יךָ וּבְאָלָת֑וֹ אֲשֶׁר֙ ה אֱ-לֹהֶ֔יךָ כֹּרֵ֥ת עִמְּךָ֖ הַיּֽוֹם׃ to enter into the covenant of the Lord your God….that God makes with you today. And so on throughout the parashah. That day had special significance. What was that day?
If we go back to the beginning of Chapter 29 (which is the end of last week’s parashah) we find a hint:
וְלֹא־נָתַן֩ ה לָכֶ֥ם לֵב֙ לָדַ֔עַת וְעֵינַ֥יִם לִרְא֖וֹת וְאׇזְנַ֣יִם לִשְׁמֹ֑עַ עַ֖ד הַיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּֽה׃
And God has not given you a discerning heart or eyes to see or ears to hear until this day.
What happened on that day? Why on that day did they gain this ability to understand that which had eluded them before? The Talmud quotes the sage Rabah who derived from this verse the principle:
לא קאי איניש אדעתיה דרביה עד ארבעין שנין
One cannot understand the opinions of one’s teacher for forty years. Meaning, only after a full forty years had elapsed were the Israelites capable of comprehending what Moshe had tried to teach them all along. וְלֹא־נָתַן֩ ה לָכֶ֥ם לֵב֙ לָדַ֔עַת וְעֵינַ֥יִם לִרְא֖וֹת וְאׇזְנַ֣יִם לִשְׁמֹ֑עַ עַ֖ד הַיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּֽה׃ It was not possible for them to understand until that day. And our parasha continues, still in Devarim chapter 29 to convey what Moshe shared on that day when he finally had students who had waited long enough to understand Moshe’s fundamental message of commitment to the Torah and to its mitzvot.
I am forty two years old which means that, other than what I might have learned in nursery school, there is literally not one message that has ever been shared with me that I yet understand. But I have experienced the passage of time and I have experienced occasions when the passage of time affords clarity, and even, sometimes, the passage of time affords satisfaction and contentment.
This is the final Shabbat of the year. It is a chance to look back over the past week and the past month and the past year, the past decade, and the past generation. Are there ways in which you can now see how and why your life took the path that it did? Are there regrets that you will take with you into the season of introspection and repentance? Are there joys that emerge from seeing our present circumstances in light of the struggles to reach this moment?
Perhaps you can think back 40 years ago – or even 4 years ago – to what a parent or grandparent or teacher told you. Can you now understand what they were saying? And if you can now understand the Torah from the past, can you commit to transmitting it to your family and to us in your community so that someday in the future, someone else may finally appreciate what it is that you came to understand today?
On Rosh Hashanah we recite a piyut, a liturgical poem, called “HaYom.” I do not think it’s the most beautiful Rosh Hashanah piyut but it is memorable because it’s among the very last things we recite before the conclusion of Mussaf and the repeated refrain “HaYom” on this day is unusual. We will ask for strength “today” we will ask to be made great “today.” We will recite a litany of requests and all of them will be requests that we make for “today.” HaYom, HaYom, HaYom.
But in order to appreciate today, we need to understand what happened in the past. And, of course the commitments we make now, will be the foundation for who we are when we say “HaYom” on this Rosh Hashanah, and on the next Rosh Hashanah, and on the one after that too.
Shabbat Shalom and Shana Tova.
Rabbi David Wolkenfeld 