Vayelech
This week’s Torah portion is Vayelech. Moses is nearing his
death. He will die before his life long
dream and goal are realized. The people
will cross into the Promised Land without him.
They will be led by his successor, Joshua. Moses is allowed only to peer from a
neighboring mountaintop into the land. Moreover,
he will die alone. Only God will tend to
his funeral. His grave will remain
unmarked.
How can this be? The
greatest of Jewish leaders is mourned and remembered, but his grave is never
again visited. It remains insignificant. Our tradition does not mandate pilgrimages to
this site. It is as if to say that
future generations must not dwell there.
They must press forward. A
monument might hold them back. The
people might dwell at their leader’s grave.
There they might build a mausoleum to their hero. They must instead look toward the future. They must remember his teachings but not hold
on to his presence.
The Torah is an idea.
It can be held in our arms. It
can be lived in our words and deeds. It
can be carried from place to place. It
is a vision. It is not dependent on one
man (or woman), even one as great as Moses.
That is the dream of Torah. It
might have been given to Moses to hand to the people, but once given, it is
dependent on all to fulfill.
Joshua must have raised such questions to Moses. He must have doubted his abilities. He must have wondered how he could stand in
Moses’ shoes, how he could follow the greatest of leaders. The Torah reports: Then Moses called Joshua and said to him in the sight of all
Israel: “Be strong and resolute, for it is you who shall go with this people
into the land that the Lord swore to their fathers to give them, and it
is you who shall apportion it to them. And the Lord Himself will go
before you. He will be with you; He will not fail you or forsake you. Fear not
and be not dismayed!” (Deuteronomy 31:7-8)
And Joshua might have cried:
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. (Dylan Thomas)
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. (Dylan Thomas)
And yet somehow despite his tears and his cries, Joshua
managed to find the courage. He marched
forward. The people looked not back at
their leader’s grave, but marched toward the land. The people mourned their leader and then
turned toward the future.
Candidates make many promises. I ask only that they show me the way. Even the greatest of leaders and visionaries
can never see all of their dreams realized.