Write for Yourselves this Song
Shemini Atzeret 5770
Shmuel Herzfeld
Recently my daughter got an unusual homework assignment. She needed to find an
article in the entertainment section of the newspaper, clip it out, and bring it in to school.
When she told me she needed a newspaper, I told her to just go on the internet and type in
the web address. But that wasn’t sufficient. The teacher required them to actually
purchase a physical newspaper and clip out the article and bring it in. The teacher
wanted them to know how to hold a newspaper in their hands.
At first I was skeptical about this assignment. Why would a teacher require a student to
learn how to use a dying technology? After all, who really thinks that an actual physical,
daily newspaper will exist in 50 years in the manner in which it exists today? But then I
realized why the teacher had given this assignment. The teacher wanted my daughter to
be able to tell her grandchildren, “I remember when a daily newspaper was actually
printed on paper and you had to go to store and give them money, and then pick up a
paper in your hands….”
Technologies always change. And very soon after the technology has changed we look
back at the old technology in amazement at how rudimentary it was. For example, who
would ever think of publishing a book on papyrus or parchment today? But when those
technologies were introduced they were huge inventions. And soon after the newest
technology is replaced, who remembers the old technology at all?
It is a custom to read the book of Kohelet on the holiday of Sukkot. And Kohelet makes
this point over and over again in his writings. “Hevel Havalim, hakol hevel, emptiness
and emptiness, the world is entirely ephemeral; it is fleeting.” As Kohelet teaches us,
“Ein zichron larishonim, vegam laachronim sheyihyu lo yehiyeh lahem zichron, no one
will remember the ancient things, nor will anyone remember the newest things that will
one day be invented--no one will remember those either.”
Kohelet reminds us of the transience of life. We put our energies into matters that are
just a drop in the bucket; that are here today and tomorrow are no longer. Is it any
surprise that Kohelet ends his work by giving the following instructions to his child
(12:12): “Veyoter mei-heimah beni hizahaer, above all my child be careful: asot sefarim
harbeh ein ketz, the making of many books is without limit.” He warns his child: do not
waste your time writing pointless books that already fill the world without limit. It’s a
waste of time. Like a newspaper. Here one day, gone tomorrow.
Kohelet’s final instructions to his child are especially jarring when we compare them
with the final words of Moshe to the children of Israel in the Torah.
At the end of the Torah, Hashem instructs Moshe, “Ve-atah kitvu lachem et hashirah
hazot, now write for yourselves this song.” The rabbis teach us that this commandment is
a commandment to write the actual Torah.
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There is a classic medieval work called Sefer Hachinuch. It is an anonymous 13th
century work written by a father for a child, where the father instructs his son in all the
613 commandments of the Torah.
The very last commandment (the 613th) listed in Sefer Hachinuch is the commandment to
write a Torah. In contrast to Kohelet who ends his work by telling his child not to waste
his time writing or reading books of fleeting significance, the Sefer Hachinuch ends his
work by expanding the mitzvah to write a Torah. He writes:
“Beni, my child, even though the Biblical obligation is only to write a Torah, there is no
doubt that [rabbinically] we are commanded to make (i.e. to purchase) other works which
were composed in explanation of the Torah.”
Kohelet tells us not to waste our time with pointless books; but Kohelet is only referring
to books that are easily outdated. Here one generation, and completely forgotten soon
after. In contrast, the Torah ends with Hashem exhorting us to spend our time on the
book of eternal value. More specifically, we are commanded to write a Torah and,
according to some authorities, this is also a commandment to write and purchase books
that are a commentary to the Torah.
The commandment to write a Torah scroll on parchment is an eternal commandment for
every generation. Regarding the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll we are taught in the
Talmud (Sanhedrin 21b): “Even though one might have a Torah scroll already from their
father, mitzvah likhtov mishelo, it is a mitzvah to write a Torah for oneself.”
This is a unique law. If one inherits an Etrog or a pair of Tefillin, one can simply use that
Etrog or Tefillin, and fulfill the mitzvah. Not so for a Torah. One cannot fulfill the
mitzvah of writing a Torah by merely having it in one’s possession. In order to fulfill the
mitzvah you need to be directly involved in the process of making the Torah.
Some commentators (like the Behag) understand that this mitzvah is a communal
commandment; i.e. that every community is required to write a new Torah, but most
authorities understand that this is a personal commandment.
Maimonides teaches: “There is a positive commandment for every person to write a
Torah for themselves (likhtov sefer torah leatzmo). And if he does not know how to
write a Torah, then he may hire others to write it for him.”
But still we wonder…. You know, my bookshelf is extremely erudite. It is filled with
books that I have not yet read. Shouldn’t the Torah have commanded us as the last
mitzvah to read the Torah, instead why does it focus on telling us to write or purchase a
Torah? What is the reason that the Torah gave us this mitzvah and emphasized it so
much by making it the very last mitzvah of the Torah?
There are many reasons suggested.
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The Sefer Hachinuch at first suggests a practical reason. “It is known that people carry
out all matters according to the resources that are available to them. Thus the Torah
wants every single Jew to have a Torah scroll at hand so that he can read it always and
will not need to go to a friend’s home in order to read the Torah.”
The modern commentator, Torah Temimah, suggests “ikar hamitzvah sheyitrabu sefarim
beolam, the essential reason for the mitzvah is in order to make as many Torah scrolls in
the world as possible, for in this manner we will be glorifying the Torah.” And indeed,
the Talmud tells us that the sage, Rabbi Ami wrote four hundred torah scrolls.
Another answer given by Sefer Hachinuch is especially relevant for our fledgling
community. He emphasizes that the reason why it is not sufficient to rely upon the Torah
scrolls of previous generations is because each individual in Israel must read from a new
Torah scroll. “Lemaan yikreu besefarim chadashim kol echad miyisrael pen takutz
nafsham bekoram besfarim hayeshanim sheyanichu lahem avotam, for we are concerned
that people’s spirits may become weary if they are only reading from the old scrolls that
have been left to them by their parents.”
According to this reason, each person should write a new Torah scroll so that the Torah
appears fresh to them; so that they are excited and eager and energized by the sight of the
their Torah; and so that every time they hold the Torah scroll in their hands that they
literally wrote or commissioned, their souls will soar with a desire to listen and heed the
words of the Torah.
This is true on both a practical and a symbolic level. On a symbolic level it means that
we should all try to create our own Torah; we should all endeavor to fashion our own
insights and homilies from the words of the Torah.
But on a practical level it is an injunction to our community to write our own Torah, and
it is a reminder for each of us as individuals to participate in the project. When I read this
explanation of the Sefer Hachinuch I immediately thought of our own congregation. I
thought of the excitement we would all have if we as a shul commissioned a Torah.
Every time the Torah that our generation wrote circled the sanctuary or was carried or
read by one of our children we would feel especially proud. We will listen to that Torah
with extra attention and it will be an even greater part of our lives.
This is a project that I would like for us to begin together as a community. And this
morning you will hear more about this project from Jeff Burt who will be the lay leader
to oversee it.
Finally, there is one other reason that I would like to focus on today to help us understand
the mitzvah of writing a Torah. This explanation directly relates to the recitation of
Yizkor which we are about to do.
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During Yizkor we remember our loved ones who are no longer physically here. How can
we make their memory a part of us for eternity? We do so by recognizing that we are all
a link in a tradition that is so much greater than any individual.
Maimonides teaches: “Im katvo beyado, keilu kiblu meihar Sinai, if one actually writes
the Torah with their own hands, then it is as though they literally received it on Mount
Sinai.”
When we fulfill the mitzvah of writing a Sefer Torah mitzvah it is as though we are all
one generation standing with our ancestors and our future descendants. Just as our
ancestors stood at Sinai, we too are standing with them. And yet, at the same time, we
can not only rely upon the fact that our ancestors received the Torah. We are reminded
that this is the one mitzvah that we can not inherit. We must perform this mitzvah on our
own.
When we perform this mitzvah, we are recognizing that it is both new for every
generation, and at the same time, eternal. We recognize that that everything is transient,
except for the eternality of the torah!
This is why when we finish reading the Torah we immediately start over. Even though
we have read it again and again, we will continue to read it again and again, with each
time feeling like it is the first time; and each time we will read it as thought the Torah
were written just for us.
Kohelet is teaching us that the other books of the world are transitory and easily outdated,
but the Torah…she is and will always be eternal. And when we participate in the
mitzvah of writing the Torah, we too will forever be linked to this eternal tradition,
linking us simultaneously to past, present, and future.
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