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by Rabbi Nathan Kamesar
This past Shabbat, we read the Torah portion in which the Sh’ma is found — perhaps the central liturgical moment in all of Jewish life.
The Sh’ma is found in Sefer D’varim, the Book of Deuteronomy, during a speech in which Moses is addressing the Israelite people at the end of their journey together. The People of Israel will soon be entering the Promised Land, but without Moses; Moses is destined to die on the eastern side of the River Jordan, without crossing into Eretz Yisra’el. Sefer D’varim is primarily comprised of Moses’ closing words to the People of Israel, words which begin with a retrospective, reminding the Israelites of their journey through the wilderness; including the revelation at Sinai, in which the Ten Commandments are declared and then, pivoting to what will be expected of the people as they enter the Promised Land, Moses declares the words that have become central to Jewish prayer life:
(4) Hear, O Israel! Adonai is our God, Adonai is one.
(5) You shall love Adonai your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.
(6) Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day.
(7) Impress them upon your children. Recite them when you stay at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you get up.
(8) Bind them as a sign on your hand and let them serve as a symbol on your forehead;
(9) inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.
(4) Sh’ma Yisra’el Adonai eloheinu Adonai ehad
(5) V’ahavta et Adonai elohekha b’khol l’vavkha u’v’khol nafshekha u’v’khol me’odekha
(6) v’hayu hadvarim ha’eleh asher anokhi metzavkha hayom al l’vavekha
(7) v’shinantam l’vanekha v’dibarta bam b’shivtekha b’veitekha uvlekhtekha baderekh uv’shokhbekha uv’kumekha
(8) ukshartam le’ot al yadekha
v’hayu l’totafot beyn einekha
(9) ukhtavtam al m’zuzot beitekha u’visharekha
(ד) שְׁמַ֖ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵ֖ינוּ יְהֹוָ֥ה ׀ אֶחָֽד׃
(ה) וְאָ֣הַבְתָּ֔ אֵ֖ת יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֑יךָ בְּכׇל־לְבָבְךָ֥ וּבְכׇל־נַפְשְׁךָ֖ וּבְכׇל־מְאֹדֶֽךָ׃
(ו) וְהָי֞וּ הַדְּבָרִ֣ים הָאֵ֗לֶּה אֲשֶׁ֨ר אָנֹכִ֧י מְצַוְּךָ֛ הַיּ֖וֹם עַל־לְבָבֶֽךָ׃
(ז) וְשִׁנַּנְתָּ֣ם לְבָנֶ֔יךָ וְדִבַּרְתָּ֖ בָּ֑ם בְּשִׁבְתְּךָ֤ בְּבֵיתֶ֙ךָ֙ וּבְלֶכְתְּךָ֣ בַדֶּ֔רֶךְ וּֽבְשׇׁכְבְּךָ֖ וּבְקוּמֶֽךָ׃
(ח) וּקְשַׁרְתָּ֥ם לְא֖וֹת עַל־יָדֶ֑ךָ וְהָי֥וּ לְטֹטָפֹ֖ת בֵּ֥ין עֵינֶֽיךָ׃
(ט) וּכְתַבְתָּ֛ם עַל־מְזֻז֥וֹת בֵּיתֶ֖ךָ וּבִשְׁעָרֶֽיךָ׃
Some argue that on a p’shat (simple) level, these words have become central simply in order to carry out the words themselves: if these words are to be “recite[d]… when you lie down and when you get up,” then they should be incorporated in our morning and evening prayer services — or perhaps more accurately, our morning and evening prayer services should be built around these words.
In the course of our weekly interactive Saturday morning Torah discussion, however, we surfaced the notion that they can mean far more to us than that. In addition to a fundamental understanding of a Divine Oneness from which we all flow, the words call upon us to listen (!) for that Divine Oneness, for it may not always be apparent to us, and, in response to that oneness, we are called, fundamentally, v’ahavta, to love. They teach us that the way of revealing that Divine Oneness, revealing our interconnectedness, which may not always be apparent to us, is through opening up a channel of love in response.
It may not always be easy: Rashi (the acronym by which Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, the famed 11th-century commentator, was known) teaches that לבבך (l’vavkha), the word which means “your heart” (as in “You shall love Adonai your God with all your heart…”) should just as appropriately have been “לבך” — just one letter ב (bet). The two “bet”s, Rashi teaches, signify that we are to Love the Divine Source of Oneness flowing through life with both poles within ourselves: our יצר הטוב/yetzer hatov, what translates as our “good instincts,” and our יצר הרע/yetzer hara, what translates as our “bad instincts,” and our entire spectrum in between. We’re to channel all those different parts of ourselves through a lens of love.
But how can we be commanded to love, one wonders? How can we be commanded to experience a feeling? “Suppose such an urge is absent,” wonders the S’fat Emet (the 19th-century Hasidic Rabbi Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter), as translated by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner and Dr. Nehemia Polen. “However,” he teaches, “every person has the potential somewhere buried within them, hence the commandment means to bolster the spirit so that the slumbering love of God may be uncovered.”
May we all uncover all the love that we have buried deep within ourselves.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi K.
