Week by precious week, we're shown how we strayed from our best selves. Slowly at first, this season hints, asks, presses, cajoles, demands and then forces us to see some things that maybe we labor mightily not to see. We turn away, perhaps with the whole of our lives or just a part. Or we turn away from truths about ourselves. In Torah's words, we become "stiff necked." This season's call to turn back means that we must our neck, and this turn begins... on our hearts. |
By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Eikev 5784 (2024)
Click here for last year's Dvar Torah on this portion, "Our Why and Because"
As a people, Jews go by several monikers. We're the "Children of Israel" – whether literally descendants of patriarch Jacob (Yaakov) renamed ישראל / Israel (meaning "Godwrestler"), or descendants of a people harkening in history and spirit to the Land of Israel. We're a "People of the Book" – in Arabic, أهل الكتاب / ahl kitaab, a Muslim phrase describing Jews and others guided by pre-Islamic prophetic traditions (Qur'an 5:68).
And we have a third moniker. According to Moses' deuter (second) onomy (telling) in this week's Torah portion, our spiritual ancestors' Golden Calf betrayal of the Ten Commandments prompted God to call us עם קשה ערף / am k'sheh oref – "a stiff-necked people" (Deut. 9:13), an ancient term for "stubborn."
Why that, and why here, and why now?
Each year I'm surprised to re-discover that Judaism's record of seemingly infinite Torah interpretations – from technical to emotional to mystical – has nothing to say about what "stiff-necked" means. It's as if our forebears thought "stiff-necked" to be so obvious that there was nothing to say. The exception is 1500s Italian Jewish scholar Ovadiah ben Yaakov Sforno:
Eikev 5784 (2024)
Click here for last year's Dvar Torah on this portion, "Our Why and Because"
As a people, Jews go by several monikers. We're the "Children of Israel" – whether literally descendants of patriarch Jacob (Yaakov) renamed ישראל / Israel (meaning "Godwrestler"), or descendants of a people harkening in history and spirit to the Land of Israel. We're a "People of the Book" – in Arabic, أهل الكتاب / ahl kitaab, a Muslim phrase describing Jews and others guided by pre-Islamic prophetic traditions (Qur'an 5:68).
And we have a third moniker. According to Moses' deuter (second) onomy (telling) in this week's Torah portion, our spiritual ancestors' Golden Calf betrayal of the Ten Commandments prompted God to call us עם קשה ערף / am k'sheh oref – "a stiff-necked people" (Deut. 9:13), an ancient term for "stubborn."
Why that, and why here, and why now?
Each year I'm surprised to re-discover that Judaism's record of seemingly infinite Torah interpretations – from technical to emotional to mystical – has nothing to say about what "stiff-necked" means. It's as if our forebears thought "stiff-necked" to be so obvious that there was nothing to say. The exception is 1500s Italian Jewish scholar Ovadiah ben Yaakov Sforno:
It is impossible to have justice and an honest heart with a stiff neck. The essence of stiff-neckedness is following whims of the heart.
"Whims of the heart," and not our best ones. These are rebellious whims, instinctive fears and hurts that lead us astray whether to build a Golden Calf or react in other ways out of fear and hurt. These are why we cause others injustice and hurt, or stand idly by. We stiffen our necks and turn away from our best selves. We stiffen our necks and turn away from what we feel, what others feel, what we know is right. We stiffen our necks and turn away from the sacred.
Precisely now, Torah pokes us to call our stiff necks what they are: we turned away and got stuck. These words remind us that on Yom Kippur, we will collectively confess that קשינו עורף / kishinu oref – "we stiffened our neck." In a sense, Torah's knock on our stiff necks this week is a prelude to all of Yom Kippur.
If stuck necks are our spiritual diagnosis, then what's the cure? Torah continues (Deut. 10:16):
Precisely now, Torah pokes us to call our stiff necks what they are: we turned away and got stuck. These words remind us that on Yom Kippur, we will collectively confess that קשינו עורף / kishinu oref – "we stiffened our neck." In a sense, Torah's knock on our stiff necks this week is a prelude to all of Yom Kippur.
If stuck necks are our spiritual diagnosis, then what's the cure? Torah continues (Deut. 10:16):
"Circumcise the foreskin of your heart, and be not stiff-necked anymore."
Yeah, circumcise – to remove a covering for covenantal purpose.
Since last Rosh Hashanah, our hearts became covered over – maybe by numbness, pain, fear, resentment, hubris or even just life's mundane stuff. Our hearts thicken their outer protective surface against hurt, which makes sense because, after all, who wants to hurt? Oh, and then there's the Mideast, antisemitism (which doesn't need a reason), national strife, the upcoming election, climate panic, economics, illness, natural aging, family stuff and whatever other pain may touch your life.
We can forgive our sensitive and sometimes bruised hearts for wanting a break, lest they break. Our hearts "naturally" cover over in self-defense, and these coverings block our hearts from fully feeling. But they have two side effects: we lose feeling some of the good stuff, and our necks get stuck. Important parts of our lives and identities can get stuck.
This week's Torah portion comes to teach us that to unstick our necks, we must unblock our hearts. It may mean feeling stuff that we don't want to feel, but it's the only real way forward. And it's the only way to experience the fullness of good stuff – the fullness of love, care, healing and teshuvah that are our birthrights, callings and invitations at this season.
The neck's cure is in the heart.
Since last Rosh Hashanah, our hearts became covered over – maybe by numbness, pain, fear, resentment, hubris or even just life's mundane stuff. Our hearts thicken their outer protective surface against hurt, which makes sense because, after all, who wants to hurt? Oh, and then there's the Mideast, antisemitism (which doesn't need a reason), national strife, the upcoming election, climate panic, economics, illness, natural aging, family stuff and whatever other pain may touch your life.
We can forgive our sensitive and sometimes bruised hearts for wanting a break, lest they break. Our hearts "naturally" cover over in self-defense, and these coverings block our hearts from fully feeling. But they have two side effects: we lose feeling some of the good stuff, and our necks get stuck. Important parts of our lives and identities can get stuck.
This week's Torah portion comes to teach us that to unstick our necks, we must unblock our hearts. It may mean feeling stuff that we don't want to feel, but it's the only real way forward. And it's the only way to experience the fullness of good stuff – the fullness of love, care, healing and teshuvah that are our birthrights, callings and invitations at this season.
The neck's cure is in the heart.