Shabbos Parashas Nitzavim-Vayelech, the Last Shabbos of 5784, was also one of the most unique and emotional Shabbasos I can remember.
On my way to Shul, under the early morning darkness, a man whose appearance indicated he wasn’t headed to prayer crossed my path. He seemed to be on a walk, likely for exercise, and we passed each other in silence. After a moment, my companion on the quiet street stopped and turned toward me, calling out, “Shabbat Shalom.”
“Shabbat Shalom,” I responded. “What’s the Torah portion today?” he asked. “Today is Parashat Nitzavim,” I replied, “and also Vayelech.” “Well then,” he added, “know that in the merit of Parashat Nitzavim, we took out Nasrallah last night.” I found myself breathless, stunned into silence, which allowed him to add: “Not just him, but his entire inner circle.” So he said, turned around, and continued on his way.
In the merit of Parashat Nitzavim, we took out Nasrallah last night
From that moment and until I reached Shul (it’s a decent walk), I couldn’t stop contemplating Hahsem’s mercies as we approach the year’s end. Naturally, I realized I would need to change the Derasha I had planned to deliver after Shacharis prayer—and so I did, after receiving further confirmation of the dramatic event as I continued my path.
At the end of the Derasha, I shared the news with the congregation, who received it with shock and excitement. I proceeded to recite the beracha over good tidings, HaTov VehaMeitiv (“Blessed is He who is good and bestows good”), on my behalf and that of the community. To this, I added the words of the Haftarah we had just read: “I will recount the mercies of Hashem, the praises of Hashem, for all that Hashem has bestowed on us, and the great goodness toward the house of Israel that He has bestowed on them according to His mercies and according to the multitude of His loving-kindnesses” (Yeshayahu 63:7).
Alongside the emotional blessing, I emphasized another theme drawn from Parashas Nitzavim: the principle of national responsibility. This is the point I wish to expand upon in this article.
Renewal of the Covenant Upon Entering the Land
Each year, we close the cycle of Torah portions with Parashas Nitzavim. Several reasons are suggested for this (see Tosafos, Megillah 31b), and I wish to add an important and central message as we approach Rosh Hashanah, especially for this particular year.
The covenant in Parashas Nitzavim is unique in that it includes everyone. Not only “your heads, your tribes, your elders, and your officers, all the men of Israel” (Devarim 29:9), and not only “your children, your women, and your stranger who is in the midst of your camp” (ibid., 10), but even “those who are not with us here today” (ibid., 14). All this is necessary to fulfill the purpose of the covenant: “That He may establish you today as His people and that He may be your God, as He has spoken to you and as He swore to your ancestors, to Avraham, to Yitzchak, and to Yaakov” (ibid., 12).
What is the uniqueness of the Nitzavim covenant that requires this special assembly described in the text? The simple answer is one of timing. The Nitzavim covenant takes place ‘today’: “You are standing today, all of you, before Hashem your God” (ibid., 9). Like the other occurrences of the word throughout the Book of Devarim —”which I command you today” (6:6); “Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse” (11:26); “This day you have become the people of Hashem your God” (27:9); “For this commandment which I command you today” (30:11); and many more—the intention is clear: the day they are entering the Land of Canaan. “Hear, O Israel, you are crossing the Jordan today” (9:2).
At the moment of entering the Land, the nation is required to fulfill its national purpose: to create a political framework for the observance of the Torah and life within Hashem’s covenant with the people of Israel
This isn’t a ‘day’ in the sense of twenty-four hours but rather a short period of time. This day, the time when Moshe stood before the people and delivered the Book of Devarim, is the day—the period of time—when they reached the border of the Land, on the verge of entering. At the moment of entering the Land, the nation is required to fulfill its national purpose: to create a political framework for the observance of the Torah and life within Hashem’s covenant with the people of Israel—to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Shemos 19:6). The entire Book of Devarim prepares the people for fulfilling this role, and at its peak is the Nitzavim covenant: the renewal of the covenant in preparation for the entry itself.
Life Within a National Covenant
The individual’s part in the covenant occupies another chapter in the verses of the Nitzavim covenant.
The verses raise the concern that an individual or group might think they can walk their own path, against the Torah: “Lest there should be among you a man or a woman or a family or a tribe, whose heart turns away today from Hashem our God” (Devarim 29:17). As the Ibn Ezra explains, such individuals believe that “peace will be with me” even if they walk “in the stubbornness of my heart,” because the nation as a whole follows a good path and is blessed by Hashem.
In other words, they believe that “so that the watered [the righteous] will add upon the thirsty [the wicked]”—even the wicked (“the thirsty”) will live well, because they share the same land and environment with the righteous (“the watered”). Against this concern, the Torah assures us that this is not the case: “Hashem will not be willing to forgive him, for then the anger of Hashem and His jealousy will burn against that man, and every curse written in this book will rest upon him, and Hashem will erase his name from under heaven” (ibid., 19).
In summary, the Nitzavim covenant is a national covenant in its fullest sense—a covenant between Hashem and a people entering their land and preparing to fulfill their destiny. However, every individual has personal responsibility for our national story. No one can escape their part in the covenant. Nobody is exempt from national responsibility.
Every individual has personal responsibility for our national story. No one can escape their part in the covenant
This reminds us of Mordechai’s words in the Book of Esther, when he urges Esther to act on behalf of her people. Like the verses in Nitzavim, he explained that she had no option to evade taking national responsibility: “Do not think in your heart that you will escape in the king’s palace any more than all the Jews” (Esther 4:13). “Relief and deliverance,” he continued, “will arise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish—and who knows whether you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (ibid., 14).
Even as a private individual, Esther bore the responsibility for the entire nation. Absent accepting that responsibility, she would have been lost from the people—just as the warning in the verse, “Hashem will erase his name from under heaven.”
Days of National Responsibility
A few years ago, I published an article on this platform ahead of the Yamim Noraim, entitled “Days of Responsibility,” focusing on the dimension of responsibility during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Today, I want to emphasize the public-national aspect of this comprehensive responsibility.
Each year, during the Yamim Noraim, our attention is naturally focused on personal matters: health, livelihood, children, and all that accompanies them. B’nei, chayei, umezonei (children, life, sustenance). This year, however, after everything we’ve been through in 5784, the focus has shifted dramatically to the national level. Our prayers, our hopes, and our deepest yearnings are directed toward the state of the nation: victory over our bitter enemies, the return of the hostages, the unity of the people, and our collective wellbeing.
The Talmud notes (in the name of R’ Yitzchak) that “any year that is poor at its beginning is rich at its end, as it is said: ‘From the beginning of the year’—‘from the beginning’ is written [deficiently], and [it shall have] ‘to the end,’ an end with a good outcome” (Rosh Hashanah 16b, see Rashi and Tosafot there). 5784 has been such a year, beginning with a disaster of unprecedented proportions, and whose end has brought us good news. Yet, we remain amid great and fateful times and cannot know what the morrow will bring.
To what extent do we live with a sense of responsibility toward the nation—not just simple responsibility toward ourselves, our families, and our communities, but for the entire nation?
The emphasis on the public-national dimension, arising from the reality of our everyday lives, reminds us of the covenant in Parashas Nitzavim and asks the question: To what extent do we live with a sense of responsibility toward the nation—not just simple responsibility toward ourselves, our families, and our communities, but for the entire nation? And to what extent are we prepared to fulfill it, each person according to their ability, each with their contribution?
Every individual and family must find their own answer to this, but we first need to ask the question out of an appreciation of national duty. This is all the more true in the difficult times we find ourselves in.
I came across the following story (from an interview with David Blum, the father of Gabriel Blum, HYD).[1] After his heroic death defending the nation, Gabriel’s parents had to pay a visit to the bank to close his account and found themselves in front of a young bank clerk, a Haredi woman. Upon hearing their tragic story, the clerk broke into tears and asked Jennifer, Gabriel’s mother, “How did you do it? How did you send him?” “Of course, we sent him,” the mother replied, “because we had no other choice. Someone has to protect us!” Despite the simple answer, when she learned that Gabriel had returned for a visit during Hanukkah and then returned to fight, the clerk asked again, “How could you let him return?”
It is deeply saddening to hear of such mindsets in our midst.
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We live through a period that demands a change of perspective. Our basic responsibility, the one we accepted upon entering the land and that we must discharge while living within its borders, is a national responsibility—one that sometimes comes at high personal cost, for Queen Esther in her time and Gabriel Blum, HYD, in our, among hundreds and thousands of others, individuals and families.
We are here for the nation. Or, in the language of Rosh Hashanah, we are here for the Divine Kingdom
It is worth remembering that the national responsibility prescribed in Nitzavim relates to preserving the covenant, in contrast with those “whose heart turns away today from Hashem our God to go and serve the gods of those nations.” This, too, is central to our national responsibility. The main point is our perception, how we understand our responsibilities, and the ways by which we seek to discharge them. We are here for the nation. Or, in the language of Rosh Hashanah, we are here for the Divine Kingdom. No matter our status and position, the perception itself is life-changing.
Throughout 5784, we have seen extraordinary displays of national responsibility from all segments of the people. May this spirit continue and even intensify among us, and in its merit, may we merit to see the blessing promised us in Parashas Nitzavim:
“You shall return to Hashem, your God, and you shall listen to His voice, according to all that I command you today, you and your children, with all your heart and with all your soul. And Hashem your God will bring you back from captivity and have mercy on you, and He will gather you from all the peoples where Hashem your God has scattered you. […] And Hashem your God will bring you into the land which your forefathers possessed, and you shall possess it, and He will do you good and multiply you more than your forefathers. And Hashem your God will circumcise your heart and the heart of your descendants, to love Hashem your God with all your heart and with all your soul, for the sake of your life. […] And Hashem your God will make you prosper in all the work of your hands, in the fruit of your body, the fruit of your livestock, and the fruit of your land, for good, for Hashem will return to rejoice over you for good as He rejoiced over your forefathers. If you listen to the voice of Hashem your God, to observe His commandments and His statutes, which are written in this book of the Torah, because you will return to Hashem your God with all your heart and with all your soul.”
[1] From a radio interview with David Blum, father of Gabriel Blum, HYD; https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/gavriel-bloom-z-l-a-hero-in-a-land-of-heroes-222/id1289716034?i=1000671225439, 38:10.
Actuallly the detailed itemization of those who were called to assemble in Nitzavim does exclude one category — the category of men over the age of 20 who did not serve in the army. An “ish” in Torah is classified as a male 0ver 20 years of age who is “yotzei tzava”. Only such a male is considered and ish, only such a male is counted in the census, and only such a male get a share in the Land. Apparently there were men who, for whatever reason, managed to dodge the draft back then as well, and were accordingly treated as non persons.