A thought on Parshas Ki Tavo
"...goi asher lo tishma leshono...""...a nation whose language you will not hear..." (28:49)
Moshe warns us of a time to come when a nation from afar will sweep us away to the end of the earth, in exile, where we will not hear their language.
It is not hard to reframe tishma - hearing - into "understanding" so that the verse means that we will be exiled to a place where a strange language is spoken. But if you stop and think about that interpretation, it seems redundant since by definition, a foreign country will utilize a foreign language. It is quite obvious that we will not understand a strange tongue.
Perhaps it is for this difficulty that the Chezkuni interprets tishma as "you will be unable to plead and reason with them." We can understand that ominous thought. One of the fearsome aspects of being exiled to a far off land is the inability to make yourself understood.
However, there are two problems with that interpretation. First, the verse does not say that we will be exiled where "the captor does not hear your language" but rather where "you will not hear their language." Our unheard pleas would reflect their hearing problems, not ours. Second, the Chezkuni writes earlier (at the beginning of the verse) that the "far off nation" refers to Babylon (Bavel). According to our sages (Pesachim 87b), one of the "reasons" for HaShem selecting Bavel as our land of exile is precisely because "their language is close to the language of Torah" (Aramaic). This was viewed by the sages as a kindness from Above which would help assure that Torah study (particularly the Oral Law) would continue with words and syntax which would be close to that of Loshon HaKodesh, to assure that our minds develop images and concepts via psycholinguistic processing of language which would be compatible with the patterns imbued through speaking, reading, writing and thinking in Hebrew. If so, Bavel of all exile places was a land where we would and did "hear their language." In Bavel we would be able to plead and reason with our captors. What gives?
Perhaps the deeper meaning of the Chezkuni, then, is that Moshe hinted and warned us of another somber reality: in exile, we are supposed to remember that we are in exile. We may dress the same, we may look the same and we can even speak the same as our temporary hosts, but the bottom line is that we are not supposed to blend in. Even if we are articulate and educated and on par with our captors in so many affluent and acculturated ways, when it comes down to trying to make ourselves understood as Jews, "we do not hear their language." We miss the nuance of rejection which says "if you try to move too close, we will keep you distant."
HaShem knows, we know, and our hosts in every exile know that there is a rift which divides Yisroel and the amim. When it comes to pleading our cause, we cannot expect the nations to relate to us. We cannot expect to bargain with them. We cannot expect them to extend to us the same rules of fair conduct which they offer their neighbors, or that we offer them. Take for example the recent "bargain" of 800 Palestinian prisoners, terrorists, in exchange for two captured Jewish soldiers.
No one out there cries "foul!" No one out there says "zeh lo fair." So why are we the only ones who keep complaining about this lack of justice? As the Chezkuni says, it is not because we do not speak the right language. It is not because the nations do not hear us. It is because we do not hear their language which is to say that we overlook that latent message which HaShem at times must send via the nations of the world: when we are in exile, we are going to be different, and if we fail to remember that we are different, then the world is going to be indifferent.
Can there be a more sobering reminder in this parsha of tochacha?Good Shabbos. D Fox
Moshe warns us of a time to come when a nation from afar will sweep us away to the end of the earth, in exile, where we will not hear their language.
It is not hard to reframe tishma - hearing - into "understanding" so that the verse means that we will be exiled to a place where a strange language is spoken. But if you stop and think about that interpretation, it seems redundant since by definition, a foreign country will utilize a foreign language. It is quite obvious that we will not understand a strange tongue.
Perhaps it is for this difficulty that the Chezkuni interprets tishma as "you will be unable to plead and reason with them." We can understand that ominous thought. One of the fearsome aspects of being exiled to a far off land is the inability to make yourself understood.
However, there are two problems with that interpretation. First, the verse does not say that we will be exiled where "the captor does not hear your language" but rather where "you will not hear their language." Our unheard pleas would reflect their hearing problems, not ours. Second, the Chezkuni writes earlier (at the beginning of the verse) that the "far off nation" refers to Babylon (Bavel). According to our sages (Pesachim 87b), one of the "reasons" for HaShem selecting Bavel as our land of exile is precisely because "their language is close to the language of Torah" (Aramaic). This was viewed by the sages as a kindness from Above which would help assure that Torah study (particularly the Oral Law) would continue with words and syntax which would be close to that of Loshon HaKodesh, to assure that our minds develop images and concepts via psycholinguistic processing of language which would be compatible with the patterns imbued through speaking, reading, writing and thinking in Hebrew. If so, Bavel of all exile places was a land where we would and did "hear their language." In Bavel we would be able to plead and reason with our captors. What gives?
Perhaps the deeper meaning of the Chezkuni, then, is that Moshe hinted and warned us of another somber reality: in exile, we are supposed to remember that we are in exile. We may dress the same, we may look the same and we can even speak the same as our temporary hosts, but the bottom line is that we are not supposed to blend in. Even if we are articulate and educated and on par with our captors in so many affluent and acculturated ways, when it comes down to trying to make ourselves understood as Jews, "we do not hear their language." We miss the nuance of rejection which says "if you try to move too close, we will keep you distant."
HaShem knows, we know, and our hosts in every exile know that there is a rift which divides Yisroel and the amim. When it comes to pleading our cause, we cannot expect the nations to relate to us. We cannot expect to bargain with them. We cannot expect them to extend to us the same rules of fair conduct which they offer their neighbors, or that we offer them. Take for example the recent "bargain" of 800 Palestinian prisoners, terrorists, in exchange for two captured Jewish soldiers.
No one out there cries "foul!" No one out there says "zeh lo fair." So why are we the only ones who keep complaining about this lack of justice? As the Chezkuni says, it is not because we do not speak the right language. It is not because the nations do not hear us. It is because we do not hear their language which is to say that we overlook that latent message which HaShem at times must send via the nations of the world: when we are in exile, we are going to be different, and if we fail to remember that we are different, then the world is going to be indifferent.
Can there be a more sobering reminder in this parsha of tochacha?Good Shabbos. D Fox
posted by Rabbi Dr. Fox at 4:21 PM
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