Parshat Re’eh

Many of us likely have stories about the interesting and out-of-the-way spots where we have engaged in prayer. I remember participating in a mincha service with fellow Ramah Berkshires staffers outside the movie theater in Binghamton. There was the small storefront Masorti synagogue in Nice on the southern coast of France. There was the time I recited mincha up on Karnei Hittim, outside of Tiberias, as I looked across toward the hills and Tzfat, both covered lightly by clouds.

Was there anything distinctly Jewish about the suffering that resulted from the vicious Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks? Indeed, it was an undiscriminating attack on all Americans. Nonetheless, there was a uniquely Jewish facet to this horrific event. The terrorist attacks left hundreds of individuals whose remains were not found or only small remnants of their bodies were discovered. Besides families waiting for a measure of clarity that their loved ones perished in order for them to begin the formal process of mourning, the plight of the women who wish to one day remarry loomed large in the wake of the World Trade Center attacks. These women remained agunot, unable to remarry until a bet din (rabbinic court) was able to amass sufficient evidence to issue a ruling verifying the death of the husband and thereby permitting the wife to remarry. As a result of this tragedy, 15 cases of agunot were presented to batei din (rabbinical courts) in the New York metropolitan area.

All the current television programs that highlight the use of the latest technology in forensic science to solve crimes, including cold cases, reassure us that most crimes will be solved and that justice will ultimately prevail. But, when we come to the end of this week’s parashah, we remember that our ancestors did not have the benefits of these technologies. And, when a case ran cold, and there was an unsolved homicide in the community, what was to be done?

In a film called “The Recruit,” each young applicant for CIA special operations is asked to respond to a series of rapid-fire questions without taking time to think about them. In this case, the recruit is asked to answer quickly, “Which would you rather do: ride on a train, feel no pain, dance in the rain?” With a slight hesitation he answers, “Dance in the rain.” Then, as he is about to leave the room the recruit turns back to the examiner and says it wasn’t the truth. The real answer is “feel no pain.”

Parashat Re’eh begins with the words “Behold I put before you today blessing and curse. The blessing — that you will listen to the commandments of the Lord your God, which I command you today. The curse — that you will not listen to the commandments of the Lord your God and you will stray from the path, which I command you today to follow, after other gods you have not known.”

In this week’s parsha we have a fascinating mitzvah: “Kol hamitzvah asher anochi m’tzavcha hayom tishm’run la’ason” — All the commandments that I command you today you shall guard and observe to do them, that you will therefore live long and thrive and increase and inherit the land that I swore to your ancestors.

This verse raises several grammatical questions. Why does the Torah not specify which mitzvah it’s speaking about? Why doesn’t it read “All the mitzvot...” (plural), which would then be more readily understood, as opposed to “all the mitzvah…” (singular), which leads to the above question.

Another grammatical difficulty is that the verse begins in the singular “...which I command you” (singular) and then ends off in the plural “you (plural) will have long life, you (plural) will have many children, you (plural) will inherit the land.”