QUESTIONS AND COMMENTARY ON PARASHAT SHOFETIM

1. Elul, the sixth month of the Jewish year, begins at sundown on Wednesday August 23, 2006. According to tradition, what important biblical event occurred on this day? What is the spiritual significance of this month? What spiritual actions should we take? Why?

Rabbi Jason Sobel

After the sin of the golden calf, which occurred on the 17th of Tammuz, Moses interceded on behalf of the Jewish people before the Lord. At the completion of this forty day period, on Rosh Chodesh Elul, the Lord commanded Moses to ascend Mount Sinai again for a forty day period in order to receive the second set of Tablets. During each of these forty days, according to Jewish tradition, the shofar was sounded throughout the camp. A proclamation was also made that Moses would not return for forty days and nights, in order to prevent the people from fearing that Moses was not going to turn, thus causing them to commit another sin like that of the golden calf. To remember this period of shofar blowing, we sound the shofar during the month of Elul.

Furthermore, the blowing of the shofar every morning, expect on Shabbat, reminds us to spiritually prepare ourselves for the High Holidays. Its haunting sound functions as a spiritual alarm clock that calls us to awaken and arouse ourselves from our spiritual slumber and begin the process of teshuva (repentance). The Yismach Moshe finds an allusion to this practice in Psalm 150. In this final Psalm of the book of Tehillim, the word hallelu occurs 12 times, corresponding to the 12 months of the year. The sixth month of the year is Elul and corresponds to the sixth hallelu, "praise the Lord with the sounds of the shofar," which is an allusion to the custom of sounding the shofar during this month (Yeitev Panim).

Elul is not merely a time of preparation; it is also a time to seek the Lord. According to tradition, the heavenly gates of compassion are opened especially wide during this month. One place our sages find support for this view is in the following verse in the Song of Songs, ani ledodi vedodi li "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine" (Song of Songs 6:3). The first Hebrew letter of each word in this verse spells Elul. Since this verse is seen as a metaphor for the bonds of love that exist between Israel and the Lord, it beckons us to intensify our pursuit of intimacy with God during the month of Elul in preparation for the High Holidays. 

As mentioned earlier, we should use the month of Elul wisely by beginning to prepare ourselves for the Yamim Noraim ("The Days of Awe"). First, we should examine our lives in order to evaluate the state of our spiritual condition and relationship with God. During the end of December, it is common for people to take stock of their lives in anticipation of the New Year. Rosh Hashanah marks the beginning of the spiritual New Year, thus we should intensely examine our lives and pray that God would reveal those things he wants us to resolve to change.

Next, we must begin the process of teshuva by changing from those things in our lives that displease God. Many people postpone this process until the High Holidays, but this is like cramming for a test. If we do not want our teshuva to be superficial, then we must start early, slowly examine, and pray about our short comings.

The following story illustrates the importance of not waiting till the last minute to prepare ourselves.

On one Rosh Chodesh Elul, Rabbi Mordechai of Lechovitz happened to overhear an old peasant exhorting his colleagues. "Listen, fellows, harvesting time has started. If you'll work hard now, you'll be able to eat all year long. But if you're lazy and goof off, you will go hungry all year. Turning to his disciples, the Rebbe excitedly exclaimed, "Dear brothers! The month of Elul is the source of blessing for serving the Lord for the entire year. Whoever applies himself in this month will experience joy all year long. Serving the Lord will come easier to him. But being lazy in Elul will cause sadness, making it difficult to serve God with heartfelt prayer."

What is this story meant to teach us? The time we are in is often called the lazy days of summer. We must be careful not take a vacation from God or become spiritual slackers. As we enjoy the end of summer and prepare for the fall, we must be vigilant to begin to prepare ourselves over the next forty days for Yom Kippur. If we do not start the ready ourselves for the new Jewish Year right now, then we will most likely continue in our old ways and will not experience the sort of spiritual transformation in Messiah Yeshua that will result in a very sweet year.

2. Parashat Shofetim includes laws which govern warfare. Included in the discussion on siege warfare is the profound but difficult to understand question, "Is the tree of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?" (Deuteronomy 20:19). How is the tree of the field like a human? How does this impact our relationship to the environment?

Rabbi Jonathan Kaplan

Deuteronomy 20:19 asks the question ki ha'adam ‘etz hassade' lavo' mippenekha bammatzor - "For is the tree of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?" The syntax of this verse is difficult to render into English. The function of the ki "for" in the sentence is difficult to determine and makes it hard to understand the meaning of this verse. Rashi and Ibn Ezra help us explore two options for understanding the ki and the meaning of this verse.

Rashi understands the ki as a rhetorical flourish to the question.  He writes,

Behold, the "ki" expresses the meaning "really." Is the tree of the field like a human who could enter into the besieged city to suffer famine and thirst like the people of the city? Why should you cut it down?

Rashi understands the verse as a rhetorical question which provokes the reader not to cause the tree undue suffering. The tree, like humans and all of creation, was created by God and should be treated with due respect. Rashi's rhetorical interpretation of the verse thus exhibits a compassionate approach to the environment. 

Ibn Ezra takes a slightly different approach. He argues that this cryptic question, when viewed in the larger context of the passage, tells us that we should not cut down (fruit-bearing) trees because these trees give life to people. He states, "for human existence is (from) the tree of the field." Though pragmatically Ibn Ezra agrees with Rashi about not cutting down trees during siege warfare, his reasoning is more utilitarian, exhibiting less compassion for trees as God's creation (and even as non-combatants), and more focus on them as tools to maintain human existence.

Though both viewpoints exhibit a high regard for God's commands concerning the environment, they leave open the question of what should be our motivation in approaching "the tree of the field" -utility or compassionate regard?

The Israeli poet Nathan Zach flips the verse around comparing humans to the trees of the field rather than the trees of the field to humans. I will leave you with his poem and hope it elicits further discussion on the meaning of this verse.

When is the human like a tree of the field?
Like the human the tree flourishes.
Like the tree the human is cut off.
And I do not know
where I have been nor where I will be-
like a tree of the field.

When is the human like a tree of the field?
Like the tree he stretches upwards.
Like the human he burns in fire.
And I do not know
where I have been nor where I will be-
like a tree of the field.

When is the human like a tree of the field?
Like the tree he thirsts for water.
Like the human he remains thirsty.
And I do not know
where I have been nor where I will be-
like a tree of the field.

I've loved. And I've hated;
I've tasted both this and that.
They buried me in a portion of earth;
And it's bitter to me, bitter to taste,
Like a tree of the field;
Like a tree of the field.