Idealogian

V'Zot HaB'rachah – "Her'iticha V'Einecha V'Shamah Lo Ta'avor"

I originally gave this d'var torah two years ago, at Washington Heights Congregation's Simchat Torah luncheon. I wrote it down a few days later, so it should be pretty close to verbatim. I hope you enjoy it, and have a chag samei'ach!

I've always felt bad for Parashat V'zot HaB'rachah. It doesn't have its own Shabbat – it's never "this week's Parashah" – and people are usually so busy speaking about the conclusion of Sukkot or about Simchat Torah that nobody ever talks about V'Zot HaB'rachah. And it's really a shame, too, because it's certainly a very significant Parashah. Mosheh Rabbeinu, one of the primary characters in the past four books of the Torah, who took B'nei Yisra'eil out of Mitzraiyim and became their primary leader, the greatest navi ever and the author of the Torah, reaches the end of his life. And we'd expect, I think, given his unparalleled level of n'vu'ah, that his last n'vu'ah, Hashem's final words to Mosheh, would be something big, something significant. Some final revelation, some important lesson.

Yet, if we read the end of the Parashah, that seems at first to be anything but the case. "Vaya'al Mosheh mei'Arvot Mo'av el Har N'vo, rosh hapisgah asher al p'nei Y'reicho; vayar'eihu Hashem et kol ha'aretz, et haGil'ad ad Dan" (D'varim 34:1). Hashem brings Mosheh up Har N'vo and shows him Eretz Yisra'eil, from North to South, East to West. And then (I'm skipping two p'sukim), we find Hashem's final words to Mosheh, and (according to one opinion in the g'mara, which states that this was the last pasuk that Mosheh wrote; Y'hoshu'a wrote the final eight p'sukim of the Torah), Hashem's final words to B'nei Yisra'eil through Mosheh. "VaYomer Hashem eilav: Zot ha'aretz asher nishbati l'Avraham l'Yitzchak ulYa'akov leimor, 'l'zar'acha et'nena.'" "This is land that I promised to your forefathers, telling them that I'd give it to you." Well that's certainly a good start. It brings things full circle back to Seifer B'reishit – "this is the promise that I made all the way back then, to the avot, and now, after hundreds of years of hardship and slavery and waiting, that promise is finally being fulfilled."

But then, Hashem adds five more words that are, to say the least, puzzling. "Her'iticha v'einecha" – "I have shown you with your own eyes" – "v'shamah, lo ta'avor" – "and there, you shall not pass." What? Hashem's final n'vu'ah to Mosheh, loosely translated: "You can look, but you can't touch." What's going on here? Is God talking to a five-year-old? How do we move from the promise made to the avot – epic scale, hundreds of years in the making – to this? It seems so petty, so insignificant. "Her'iticha v'einecha, v'shamah lo ta'avor" – what does it mean? What is Hashem trying to teach Mosheh, and, more importantly, what is He trying to teach us?

I think that the answer to this question lies in a more basic issue underlying this one. Once it's been decreed, for reasons I won't discuss now, that Mosheh will not be allowed to enter Eretz Yisra'eil, why is it so important that he see it at all? There are a few places throughout chumash, beginning (I believe) in Parashat Pin'chas, where Hashem forces Mosheh to look at Eretz Yisra'eil. Is He rubbing Moshe's nose in it? Is He taunting him?

I once heard Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, one of the Roshei Y'shivah of Yeshivat Har Etzion, speak on this subject, and he explained that Hashem isn't teasing Mosheh. He's not saying, "Look what you missed out on." Rather, He's teaching Mosheh an important lesson. Even though "v'shamah lo ta'avor" – I've decreed that you can't go there, still – "her'iticha v'einecha" – it's still important that you look at it. You may not be able to go there, but that doesn't mean you can forget about it. You have to keep your sights set on that goal, even though you'll never be able to achieve it.

Rav Yehudah Amital, the other Rosh Y'shivah of Yeshivat Har Etzion, once told a story of a couple who came to the rebbe of Minsk. I forget which way it was, but one of them wanted to make aliyah – move to Y'rushalayim – and one of them wanted to stay in Minsk. The rebbe decided that they should stay in Minsk. "It's better to live in Minsk and dream of Y'rushalayim," he said, "than to live in Y'rushalayim and dream of Minsk."

I'm not sure we'd agree with his decision from a halachic perspective (especially since it seems to be against a few g'marot), but from a hashkafic perspective, I think the point is clear: there's a difference between a person who dreams of Y'rushalayim and a person who dreams of Minsk, regardless of where that person lives, or – in the case of Mosheh Rabbeinu – where that person dies. "Her'iticha v'einecha v'shamah lo ta'avor" – the dream, the aspiration, has value in its own right, even if it will never be achieved.

And I think that the reason this lesson is given such prominent placement, at the culmination of Moshe's career as a navi, is that it's more widely applicable than the issue of Eretz Yisra'eil.

We say the pasuk every day; David HaMelech instructs us, "Dirshu Hashem v'uzo; bak'shu fanav tamid" – "Seek God and His strength; seek His 'face' constantly" (Diveri HaYamim 16:11). Whatever exactly it means to "seek Hashem's face" – it's not at all clear – it seems to refer to some degree of knowing Hashem, of closeness to Him. And yet, we already know – we've read the pasuk in Ki Tisa, and presumably David has read it as well – "Lo tuchal lir'ot et panai, ki lo yir'ani ha'adam vachai!" (Sh'mot 33:20). Hashem tells Mosheh that we're incapable of perceiving His face! So what's David saying? What are we supposed to do? Why bother pursuing this futile effort?

On a practical level, certainly, one who aims high will reach higher than one who doesn't aim at all, even if he doesn't quite hit the mark. But on a more fundamental level, I think that the point is the same as what I mentioned before. There's value in the seeking, even if the goal sought after is never reached. There's a difference between someone who is constantly seeking to be closer to Hashem and someone who isn't, even if they both fall infinitely short of that goal. There's a difference between someone who aspires to be the biggest ba'al tz'dakah in his community and someone who doesn't, even if neither can afford more than a few pennies a day. And there's a difference between someone who dreams of learning kol haTorah kulah and someone who doesn't, even if neither ever makes it past looking at the Parashah for a few minutes on Shabbat.

I think that this message – the value of goals and ideals independent of their achievement – is one that was particularly relevant for B'nei Yisra'eil as they stood on the threshold of Eretz Yisra'eil, about to enter a new world and choose the courses of their new lives.

And I think it's equally relevant to us as we start a new year and choose our own courses in our own lives. "V'shamah lo ta'avor" – even if you think you can't achieve it, even if you know you can't accomplish it, still – "her'iticha v'einecha" – set the goal, dream the dream, be a visionary!