Ah, parshat Ki Tavo; another in the litany of blessings and curses that will befall our Israelite ancestors (and us) if we do not follow the mitzvot, the Commandments of God. This “if… then…” logic is representative of one slice of the human imagination, the fearful one. Yes, it is true that these mitzvot are worthy of being held close to the heart, but we know that life does not dole out punishment and reward based on a merit system. While it is tempting to think in such a way, we cannot reconcile a Benevolent God (which we desire) with the suffering that we know to exist.
This week’s parsha graphically lists the despair and disaster that will befall the Israelites, should they fail to uphold the commandments. But what if this cause and effect is not quite what we make of it at first glance? What if the devastation of the curses listed here are not a punishment, but simply a consequence of what happens when we fail to make decisions based upon our highest values?
These verses struck me in particular this year, six months since the pandemic was declared: “…it shall shut you up in all of your towns throughout your land until every mighty, towering wall in which you trust has come down.” Have not the walls in which we trust come down? Are we not shut up in all of our homes and our towns? We read Ki Tavo in the midst of the month of Elul, the time when we are to take a hard look at our actions and the effects they have had on us and the world around us. But Elul is not about self-flagellation; it is about returning to our highest selves.
This year, I hear Moses asking, in the immortal words of David Byrne, “Well… how did I get here?” and urging us to do something different, so that we might press against further pain, and loss, and destruction.
– Rabbi Callie Schulman
