Prashat Ki Tavo: In mental exile

By SHLOMO RISKIN
We often fall into a certain pattern of action or prayer because of a specific set of circumstances, and even after the circumstances change, we continue to do or say whatever we have become accustomed to. For example, Jews in the Diaspora continue to cry out in anguish at the end of Yom Kippur and at the conclusion of the Pessah Seder: "Next year in Jerusalem!" despite the fact that if they really wished to be in Jerusalem today they could easily make aliya and live in, or regularly visit, the Holy City. And Jews in Israel continue to say the Nahem prayer on the Ninth of Av as if the City of Jerusalem was still laid waste by Roman legions, without taking into account the qualitative differences in status since the Six Day War (Rabbi Haim David Halevi suggested that we at least add a past tense, "the city which had been laid waste…"). Another example of our stubborn refusal to internalize changes in our circumstances relates to a fascinating declaration at the beginning of this week's biblical portion, and how we deal with it (or not) at our Pessah Sedarim. Chapter 26 of Deuteronomy opens with the charge that when we enter the Land of Israel and dwell therein, we are to bring the first fruits to the Temple in Jerusalem, declaring a quintessential summary of Jewish history culminating in Jewish sovereignty and divine service: "An Aramean [Laban] sought to destroy my father [Jacob/Israel], and he went down in Egypt…. And the Egyptians dealt ill with us and afflicted us and laid upon us hard bondage… and the Lord took us out of Egypt… And He brought us to this place and He has given us this land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruits of the land which You, O Lord, have given me" (Deut. 26:1-10). The Mishna (Oral Law) ordains, as a significant part of the Seder service, that after the second cup of wine and the asking of the requisite questions around the table, we "expound the biblical text from the words 'An Aramean sought to destroy my father…' until the completion of the entire section…." (Mishna, Pessahim 10,4). But we do not expound that entire portion today; we stop short, concluding with our exodus from Egypt (verse 8) but neglecting to continue to state how "God has brought us to this land flowing with milk and honey" (verse 9) and how "Now behold I have brought the first of the fruits of the land…" (verse 10). And even if we feel that we cannot in good conscience recite the last verse because, alas, we do not yet have a Holy Temple to which we can bring the first fruits, we can - and probably must - recite the next-to-last verse, in which we offer thanks to the Almighty for having returned us (after almost 2,000 years!) to this land flowing with milk and honey. A study of the Geonic period and the texts found in the Cairo Geniza reveals that there were two main versions of the Haggada, one emanating from Israel and the other from the Exile (Babylon). In Israel, the entire declaration was read; it was only in Exile that the final two verses were excised. It would also appear that initially there were five cups of wine drunk during the Seder, the fifth relating to the fifth expression of redemption - "And I will bring you into the land…" (Exodus 6:8) and to be taken before the prayers of praise and thanks hallel hagadol (Hodu LaShem ki tov). It would seem clear - at least according to the Rambam (Laws of Hametz and Matza 8, 10) and many of the Geonim (Arvei Pessahim, ad loc) - that if you don't take the fifth cup, you don't recite hallel hagadol for the complete and universal redemption. Nevertheless, even after our return to the Jewish State we continue to make our Seder over four cups. And even though the Rambam states that the fifth cup is only voluntary, surely we should demonstrate in some tangible fashion that we appreciate the changed reality! I would only add that our attitude toward converts and the commitments which converts must make should likewise undergo some sort of rethinking. Due to the Israeli interpretation of the Law of Return - Israel offers automatic citizenship to anyone who would have been persecuted as a Jew under Nazi laws - there are more than 300,000 individuals from the former Soviet Union who are presently Israeli citizens but not halachically Jews. They serve in the IDF, some of them die in our wars, and their children are with other Israeli children in our school system. For the first time in almost 2,000 years, Jewish nationality (symbolized by the ritual immersion and national rebirth) requires a commitment which is different from, and no less exacting than, Jewish religion (symbolized by acceptance of the commandments). It should be presumed that this sea-change in Jewish status ought to make a difference, at least in terms of our desire to inspire the non-halachic Jews in our midst to find their place among us as completely legitimate children of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel and Leah. The writer is the founder and chancellor of Ohr Torah Stone Colleges and Graduate Programs, and chief rabbi of Efrat.