Devarim: Confronting fear in the face of Tisha B’Av

For years I’ve been a fan of talk show host Stephen Colbert, famous for both his incisive political commentary and his comedic hijinks. One of his early hallmarks was the gotcha moment on video — exposing politicians’ double-speak by displaying footage of them saying one thing, followed by a clip saying the exact opposite.

At first glance, Parshat Devarim looks like prime material for this late-night bit. As Moshe begins his farewell address and retells the story of the scouts to this new generation, he seemingly makes some changes from the narrative as it appears in Parshat Sh’lach L’cha. Details like the identity of the scouts, and whose idea it was to send them, don’t match the original account, and one could imagine Colbert playfully “catching” Moshe in the discrepancies.

Commentators such as Ramban, however, seek to harmonize the inconsistencies so that the accounts actually complement each other. Far from seeing in this passage anything negative about Moshe, these commentators argue that there is something we can learn from the differences as Moshe presents them this time.

For example, Moshe here refers to the scouts as “men,” as opposed to the exalted tribal leaders described earlier. According to the scholar Nechama Leibowitz, his intent is to highlight how every person is responsible for his or her own behavior, and that citing the behavior of a leader (as did the members of the angry mob during that episode) is no excuse for a person’s own bad judgment.

Given this emphasis on personal responsibility, and the parsha’s recollection of the nation’s infighting, it is perhaps no coincidence that this parsha is read every year on the Shabbat before Tisha B’Av. Indeed, various explanations have been suggested for this, including Moshe’s use of the word “Eicha” in this parsha.

I would like to suggest one more association between Devarim and Tisha B’av. The idea is rooted in a family story from several years ago, when our then 4-year-old tearfully declared that he wanted to cancel his birthdays after he turned 7. After much gentle prodding, it became clear that his 8-year-old brother’s trip to sleepaway camp was causing him anxiety; naturally he decided he could avoid this frightening journey himself by freezing his age at 7.

It was a touching episode, and also eminently relatable. Who among us hasn’t wanted to freeze time, to enjoy the blessings we have in the present and not have to face an uncertain future?

In Devarim, the Israelites have this same inclination. Look at how Moshe begins his recounting of their story — “Rav lachem shevet — you’ve stayed long enough at this mountain. Now make your way onward.” The experience at Mount Sinai was surely a peak experience for the Israelites; who would want to leave the spiritual intimacy and safety of Sinai?

Tisha B’Av brings out our anxiety. It is a day of mourning for the destruction of the Temples and subsequent exiles, though for me, and I suspect for others, it can be hard to get overly emotional about events so far in the past. More than a sad day, Tisha B’Av is for me a frightening day.

Just look at the litany of tragedies — destructions, expulsions, deportations — that our tradition associates with this precise date, some of which happened multiple times. Tisha B’Av is a stark reminder that bad things have befallen our people, and they can happen again. This type of existential fear and paranoia can be paralyzing. How are we to deal with it? By cancelling our birthdays and quitting while we’re ahead?

The Torah takes a different approach. On five occasions in Parshat Devarim the Torah says not to be afraid — al tirah, lo tir’oon, lo tira’oom… The text repeatedly exhorts us not to fear what lies ahead. In verse 1:29, the text adds “do not be broken,” or discouraged, as a follow-up to “do not fear.” That is to say that while fear may be a natural emotion based on real dangers, despair is self-imposed. The Torah doesn’t mean to say that nothing bad will ever happen, but it exhorts us not to fear because it provides us tools to face life’s fears and respond to its challenges with equanimity.

Scattered among the exhortations to not be afraid, the parsha describes certain “religious activities.” First, in verse 1:10, there is a blessing for the people’s continued growth — a tefillah. Next in verse 16, Moshe urges the people to judge righteously — ushfat’tem Tzedek — the same root as tzedakah. And in verse 41, the people admit culpability for prior mistakes — in other words, teshuva.

Tefillah, tzedakah, teshuva — does that ring any bells? This is the same triumvirate that appears in the machzor at the high point of Unetaneh Tokef! Devarim describes precisely the actions that, according to the machzor, will “lessen the severity of the decree.” The liturgy doesn’t mean that performing these acts will literally protect us; rather these are resources our tradition gives us to engage with and respond to whatever the future brings.

Tisha B’Av is frightening. But Judaism is not where we turn to make time stand still and escape from the world; rather, Torah is the lens through which we engage with and live in the world. Move on from Mount Sinai, and take its resources with you. In response to our fears, the Torah offers us a spiritual resilience that transcends time.

As an incisive man once said, “The purposeful consumption and distribution of fear, which some [in the media] have become addicted to, is an evil act of oppression. Not living in fear is a great gift, because certainly these days we do it so much.” Beautiful quotes, from late-night host Stephen Colbert.

Opinion

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