For the past four weeks, we have been reading about the laws the Israelites – and their descendants-- are to follow. The list includes the blessings and curses that will befall them—and us--if we don’t follow these laws. These warnings culminate in this week’s parasha with the Tokhehah, warnings that are so loathsome that they’re read sotto voce.
I am bothered, especially in this polarizing year, by the black-and-white nature of these pronouncements: obey and you’ll be rewarded; disobey and you’ll be punished. As we’re being encouraged in public discourse to look beyond binaries—beyond Us and Them, Good and Bad—I find myself looking for some middle ground between blessings and curses.
In reading Ki Tavo this year, two images jumped out at me that offer possible middle ground options.
The first option is the image is found in chapter 27, verses 2-3 when Moses says, “As soon as you have crossed the Jordan…, you shall set up large stones. Coat them with plaster and inscribe upon them all the words of this Teaching.”
Imagine the dark inscribed letters starkly standing out against the white plaster. The image that comes to mind is that of the Torah scroll’s black ink letters on white parchment. The white spaces highlight the black letters, much as the negative space in a painting allows the image to come forward.
In the Talmud Yerushalmi, the Torah is described as “Black fire written on White fire.” Among the many interpretations of this description is the concept that the black letters are the pshat, the simple meaning of the Torah, and the white spaces are the sod, the secret meanings. The white spaces allow for all the midrashim that offer rich interpretations of the text. The white spaces open up the possibility of a way to live beyond the black letters of the text.
The second middle-ground option is found in chapter 27 verses 12-13. Moses instructs the tribes when they enter the land to stand on one of two facing mountains, Mt. Ebal or Mt. Gerizim to hear the blessings and curses.
Herein lies the possibility of a middle ground. If you imagine the two mountains opposite each other, they form a valley between them. It’s MY midrash, that the valley between the mountains open the possibility of living somewhere in between the blessings and the curses, just as the white spaces in the Torah allow for a more nuanced understanding of the black letters.
We’re all imperfect human beings. While it may be easy to avoid many of the curses, is there any one of us who has not transgressed the laws of the Torah in some way, or performed all the mitzvot that we could? As Conservative Jews, we live in this middle space, in the valley between the two mountains. There we find fertile ground to grow our contemporary understanding of Torah.
There is precedent for this middle ground. In Exodus 32, Moses implores G-d to temper G-d’s anger with G-d’s attribute of mercy. On the Kabbalistic Tree of Life, Chesed/lovingkindness balances G-d’s attribute of Din/Judgment, with the middle point being called Tiferet or Rachamim/Compassion. In the black fire/white fire metaphor, black fire represents Judgment and white fire represents Mercy.
The High Holy Days liturgy sets up another binary choice in the Unetanah Tokef piyyut, “who will Live and who will Die.” However, this text also provides us with a middle way, a way to act to merit G-d’s compassion and invoke G-d’s mercy. According to our machzor, “Teshuvah, tefilla and tzedakah have the power to transform the harshness of our destiny.”
As we begin the New Year, may we live so that our prayers and actions bring us closer to G-d’s blessings and Inspire G-d’s compassion and mercy.
Shabbat Shalom!
Q: My question for you is, “How do YOU deal with the black and white nature of these parshiot?”
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