Many of us are not immediately struck by the greatness of the Mona Lisa upon first seeing it. In fact, when encountering any classic work for the first time we often fail to see what the fuss is all about.
Sometimes greatness is in the details, as with the six verses that form the first paragraph of what we refer to as the Shema (Devarim 6:4–9). The casual reader may not immediately pick up on why this little section has taken such pride of place in the Jewish liturgy. For one, the Torah doesn’t present it with the same fanfare given the Ten Commandments, the second version of which precedes this passage by about ten verses. Nor is its meaning so unequivocal that the reader would necessarily even understand much of it – at least not without some difficulty.
Yet most of us take it for granted that this passage is quite important. Even beyond the obligation to read it at least twice a day (which can reasonably be understood from the text itself in Devarim 6:7), it plays a rather impressive role in the life of a Jew. For one, that these six verses are the words which a Jew should recite on his deathbed certainly gives it a stature incomparable to any other passage in the Torah. But it is not only saved for the grand finale; its recitation upon going to sleep both foreshadows and hints to its being a Jew’s last word. Likewise, its central positioning in the prayer service – ensconced between several blessings assigned to it – shows it to be the main word as well.
Given the disparity between the Shema’s central place in Jewish tradition and its nondescript presentation in the Torah, we need to better understand the roots of its renown. In the process, we will be able to get better insight into a large part of Moshe’s parting speeches, of which the Shema is an integral part.
The Jazz of the Shema Unit
A close reading of the first paragraph of the Shema and an examination of its context reveal a great deal. With regard to its placement within the book of Devarim, it precedes the second paragraph (Devarim 11:13–20) of the Shema by five chapters . The two passages cover much the same ground, something we will discuss in greater detail later in the chapter.
The first two paragraphs of the Shema are atypical of repetitive biblical passages. Generally, repetitive passages are either right next to each other or separated by many chapters or even whole books. They usually consist of almost the exact same content. What’s more, because the second passage is repeated in a new context, it is stated for reasons different from those of the first. Here, however, we have something quite different.
For one, the passages are neither immediately adjacent to each other nor far removed from one another. Moreover, the passages, while quite similar in content and meaning, are uniquely stylized: certain phrases in the first passage are omitted in the second, new passages are inserted into the second that did not appear in the first, and grammatical schemes differ.
In addition to the particulars of their specific content, these sections also bookend what others have already identified as the fundamental “mitzva” section of Moshe’s discourse (Devarim 6:4–11:25).71See Recalling the Covenant, pp. 897– 903. See also R. David Zvi Hoffman’s introduction to his commentary to Devarim, where he says that this section deals with “general commandments.” The primary theme of “the mitzva” is basic allegiance, and it is quite clear that we are dealing with a distinct thematic section which opens with the first paragraph of the Shema and concludes with the second, and is all about the need to be loyal to God. When these elements combine with the fact that the verses between these two passages have much the same substance and style as their “bookends,” we see something quite singular being created. At the very least, the Torah has brought the different pieces together to create a larger thematic section of text. But I believe it is actually much more.
An objection could be raised that this unit appears to be highly unwieldy and has parts that don’t fit very well with the general theme. Yet not all patterns and themes work in the same way. In fact, sometimes a certain amount of disorder is itself a part of the art. For those familiar with jazz music, this may ring a bell.
The entire passage (i.e., Devarim 6:7–11:20) actually has some very striking affinities with jazz. For one, a jazz composition begins and returns to a common, unifying theme. Moreover, the final rendition of the theme at the conclusion of the piece is usually presented in a different, somewhat more robust form. The latter is exactly what we find in the second paragraph of the Shema. Even more helpful is what we find in the middle section, between the bookends. As in jazz, the binding thread is not always easy to follow and sometimes even leads to a complete tangent. Nevertheless, we get constant reminders of it, with variations of the theme’s components finding their way into key parts of the composition, most commonly at points of transition.
Along these lines, the phrase, “the Lord, your God,” which we find in the second verse of the Shema, is found clustered throughout the entire section. Most notably, it appears five times in five different verses early on and seven times in the course of seven other verses a bit later (Devarim 6:12–16, 7:19–25).72This phrase is rarely used in the other four books of the Torah, but frequently used in other parts of Devarim. Still, it appears with slightly greater frequency here than in the rest of the book. Immediately after the first occurrence of “The Lord, your God” comes bechol levavecha u’vechol nafshecha (with all of your heart and with all of your soul, Devarim 10:12. ). This too is pointedly repeated73The word levavecha by itself is sprinkled several times throughout this section as well. in the middle section, as is the very famous beginning of the section, Shema Yisrael (Listen, Israel, Devarim 8:1). Both these last two phrases reappear only once, but given their very uncommon word combinations, it is hard to see their repetition as mere coincidence.74The expression appears five times altogether, all of them in the book of Devarim.
As mentioned, a jazz piece reverts to its main theme at the very end. It does so because the melody that begins and ends the song informs the essence of the piece. The same can be said of our text as well: The central purpose of the repetition at the end, as well as of its various strands that emerge in the middle, is to demarcate the larger unit’s major theme.75While many of these patterns exist to one extent or another throughout Moshe’s speeches in Devarim, they seem to come together most powerfully in this section. One could say that this section forms a more concentrated microcosm of what Moshe is trying to get across throughout his speeches as a whole.
Admittedly, there are parts of the “mitzva” section where the main pattern is less clear; the discussion of the golden calf incident immediately comes to mind. But I would suggest that the atypical parts can be likened to jazz riffs. And so, when looking at the entire piece, a pattern comes through clearly – one made up of various components that create a very sophisticated thematic unit.
Singular and Plural
Now that we better understand the unity of the section we are studying, it is time to find its message. Instead of looking to rhythmic patterns, however, here we will examine grammatical ones. The first of this three-part unit uses verbs exclusively in the singular form, thereby addressing the individual Israelite. Significantly, however, these singular verbs gradually give way to an increasing use of the plural – meaning to all the Jews as a nation – which comes to a head with the ending paragraph being almost completely in the plural.
The middle section goes back and forth – sometimes including more plural verbs, sometimes less – and therefore it would be difficult for us to make much of the gradual shift from singular to plural were it to be our only piece of evidence.76See Rabbi S.R. Hirsch, Devarim 11:10, who points out that this is a feature seen throughout Moshe’s orations in the book of Devarim. See also Aharon Mirsky’s commentary to the book of Devarim in Da’at Mikra (Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 2001), pp. 36–37, and previous footnote. There are, however, several other items that combine to address the relationship between the individual and the collective. To begin with, the most widely repeated phrase, “the Lord, your God,” is used revealingly. In general, the phrase is meant to emphasize the relationship we have with God, but to the extent that the word “you” is conspicuously found here much more often in the singular than in the plural, God is creating expectations of what He wants specifically from each individual. Hence the religious responsibility of the Jew does not only begin on the individual level, but on a very basic level it remains there as well.
And just as the singular (representing the individual) continues to have a role even as we progress into the plural (representing the community), the same is true in reverse. From the very beginning, we are given an indication that the message of allegiance is not only directed to the individual. In fact, this happens at the very beginning of the first “bookend” with the introductory expression, Shema Yisrael, for here we also go from the individual verb Shema to the collective noun Yisrael. This phrase sets the tone for the entire section; its words speak of a communal listening predicated on its internalization by each individual member (the word shema connotes not just listening but a comprehension and acceptance of that which is heard). For that internalization to happen, each individual must feel that the message is directed specifically to him or her, and that it is not just a general mandate for the Jewish people as a whole.77In Devarim 29:18–19, Moshe specifically addresses the likelihood that some will excuse themselves from following the commandments of the Torah, based on the sense that what really matters to God is the group as a whole, and not the individual.
Every individual must see himself as the one being addressed in the Shema, yet if he sees it only that way he will be missing the point: in order to succeed we need to pay attention to both the group and to its component parts. In spite of the centrality of all Jews feeling personally addressed, each one must concurrently internalize that the full scope of their loyalty to God is expressed communally.
This idea comes out even more strongly in a well-known verse (Devarim 6:20) that has posed difficulties for many a reader.78The problem is why we think of him as such a wise son if he excludes himself from the community that received the laws, especially since the “evil son” was seemingly just castigated for doing the exact same thing. In the context of the Torah’s presentation, the answer is quite clear. The Torah is describing a father who witnessed the Exodus from Egypt, saying the miracles “happened in front of our eyes” (Devarim 6:22); and a son who did not witness it. The verse in question is borrowed by the Passover Haggadah and there attributed to the “wise son”: “What are the statutes and laws and judgments that the Lord, our God, commanded you [plural]?” Even though the son is speaking as a member of the community and the father is addressed as a representative of the community, the Torah still presents a singular son speaking to a singular father.
The essence of this passage serves as an almost perfect example of the interplay between the individual and the group. For here we see the transmission of the Torah’s laws on a national basis, by individuals who recognize the national scope of this process. The actual and literal transmissions occur only one family at a time; it is a specific, individual son who will ask his specific, individual father. Yet it is an event that must be replicated in many thousands of households for it to have the communal meaning it actually expresses.
In the unit we are analyzing, Moshe is subtly trying to expand the horizons of singularity in order to convince the Jews of the idea that the self is really the collective self at least as much as it is the singular one. Moshe will not deny that it is individuals who constitute groups, but the group made up of individuals needs to coalesce and become a community. In that scenario, individuals enhance the power of their commitments by fulfilling them together.
The Righteous Men of Sodom
The group cannot function without the many individuals who ultimately and individually make their own choices. By the same token, if these choices are made without concern for the group, they can carry only so much significance. This is best demonstrated in the book of Bereshit, in the argument between Avraham and God about Sodom. There it is manifest that the presence of one or two righteous individuals is not enough to warrant Sodom’s continued existence. Avraham is aware of that and asks nothing more of God once it comes down to there being less than ten righteous individuals in the city. The only point in question is how large a minority is needed to create a suitably representative subcommunity.79See Rabbi S.R. Hirsch on Bereshit 18:28, concerning the implications of the numbers of righteous inhabitants in Sodom. Once there is less than a quorum, the individual will, at best, be taken out of the city (as was Lot) and judged on his own merits.80See Ramban on Devarim 11:13, and the next section of this chapter. In the worst case, he will be held accountable for continuing to live in the face of evil, which he was either not able or not willing to change.81See Sanhedrin 112a, which not only blames a righteous person for continuing to live in such a situation but also penalizes him financially.
But even if such an individual is deemed guiltless, he still does not define the merits of his community. Rather, it is the group that defines the aggregate actions of the community and, subsequently, whether that community is helping or hindering mankind’s moral growth and welfare.
Indeed, being part of a nation is what makes people proud to fight just wars or to develop exemplary health care systems. That pride is felt by the masses, even though most of the individuals did not take part in carrying out the task. Likewise, if a nation is plagued by rampant crime, vice and blatant inequalities, most citizens are embarrassed by the problems even if they themselves are among the guiltless. Both the pride and the shame arise from the understanding that they belong to a group that is making an impact beyond only those that comprise the group. Even more to the point is that this feeling arises from the knowledge that this achievement can only be attained on the communal level. Hence the greatest influence an average individual can make is usually when he acts as part of the larger community.
In light of this, the Jewish community’s commitment can be more fully understood. We have mentioned before that God’s selection of the Jews has a twofold purpose: to elevate the members of the Jewish nation and thereby produce moral and religious excellence, and to provide an example for the rest of mankind.82See Redeeming Relevance in Exodus, pp. 57–67.
A truly outstanding individual can be an inspiration for some individuals, but he cannot be a model for an entire nation to duplicate. When it comes to individuals, it is understood that there will always be some whose performance is off the charts. A nation cannot hold itself to such a standard, since it will be unattainable for the average citizen. A model nation, however, is something else.
E Pluribus Unum
Now that we have seen and explored the patterned use of singular and plural in our section, we can return to the most obvious difference between the two sections of theShema that serve as bookends for the “mitzva paragraphs” of the book of Devarim. As many have noticed before,83See, for example, Sifrei; Rashi; Ramban on Devarim 11:13. the second bookend begins in the singular and ends mostly in the plural, an indication of a clear progression from the one to the other which is, in light of what we have observed, expected. This progression strongly reinforces the need to begin with the pole of individuality and only then to move forward toward the pole of community.
While this idea is always true, the Torah rarely feels the need to emphasize it. There must then be something about this particular unit, in which the first two parts of the Shema encompass the “mitzva paragraphs,” which warrants the particular emphasis on the centrality of the many individuals required to constitute the group. With this in mind, we begin to understand why this section is so important. For this is where Moshe is telling the Jews God’s bottom line. He describes what commitment will entail with regard to dealing with their children and with their neighbors. He also tells them of the protection and bounty they can expect from God in return. But the Torah doesn’t stop with the positive. It also reminds the Jews that there is another side, explaining what they can expect if they don’t maintain their part of the bargain. Most important here is the message that it is ultimately upon this commitment that the fate of the Jews as a nation will rest. In order to assure the nation’s survival, and hopefully its success, Moshe now needs to ensure that the nation is in a communally directed and alert state of mind.
The commitment required from the nation can be boiled down to two verses in the middle of this section: “Now, Israel, what does the Lord, your God, demand from you except to fear the Lord, your God, to walk in His ways and to love Him, and to serve the Lord, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the mitzvot of the Lord and His chukim, which I command you this day for your good? (Devarim 10:12–13). These essentially speak of a proper attitude toward God and complete obedience to His will.
The diction in the Hebrew implies that this isn’t really so much to ask, to which the rabbis respond (Berachot 33b), “That’s easy for him (Moshe) to say!” The end of verse 13 already tells us why the commitment is not as hard as it sounds: obedience is in the Jews’ clear and obvious self-interest. Since God’s law is meant to be a guide to a better, more correct and more rewarding life, there is no rational reason not to follow it.
Complete and total obedience can never be a simple matter, but whether simple or not, it is what God unequivocally requires of His people. This is the message that led the rabbis to mandate a Jew’s willingness to die for the greater good – which specifically means to do God’s will – while reciting the Shema.84See Bach on Tur, Orach Chaim 61, which cites Vayikra Rabba 27:6. Though unclear whether this is the intention of the Midrash, or even necessarily of Tur, it has become generally accepted. See Aruch HaShulchan 61:1; Mishna Berura 3; Kaf HaChaim 6, both on Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 61:1. For it is precisely in life-or-death situations more than at any other time that the nation needs its individuals to stand up and be counted.
This message, which Jewish martyrs have embodied in actual practice throughout history, is actually in the text itself, in the second verse of the first passage. But the centrality of this section as a whole cued the rabbis to establish its use whenever a Jew is required to declare his loyalty. Indeed, it was to become the Jews’ loyalty oath.
An oath of loyalty actually provides us with a very useful metaphor here. Such declarations are what bind individuals to groups. Even while the Shema is primarily directed toward God, it is no coincidence that the Shema is frequently recited together with a group. As we shall see, it is the type of activity that generally only makes sense when performed by the many. For what does it matter if only one or two soldiers swear fealty to the king or the state?
The Shema in Plural
The general patterns we have noticed also address some of the major differences that exist between the first paragraph of Shema and its adaptation in the second. Among the most important is the discussion of reward, which is completely absent from the former and emphasized in the latter. In this context, let us examine a curious statement of Rashi’s and follow it up with an elaboration from Ramban and others.
Obviously aware that the two paragraphs cover much the same ground, Rashi immediately cites a Midrash which tells us that one is a warning to the individual and the other is a warning to the group.85Rashi, based on Sifrei Devarim 11:13. One might think Rashi is just restating the obvious difference we have also traced, yet, as many supercommentaries point out,86See, for example, Siftei Chachamim; Maharal (Gur Aryeh) ad loc. all commandments are ultimately the responsibility of the individual, and to the extent that communal responsibility is involved in making sure that others also follow the commandments, it ostensibly applies to all commandments equally and not merely the ones laid out in these two paragraphs.
Ramban addresses this problem by pointing out that none of the consequences here, such as abundant rainfall, can be called an open miracle (nes nigleh); the miraculous nature of any consequence mentioned in the Shema becomes evident only when the entire nation is reaping it. In other words, the reward itself is not immediately apparent and could be attributed to chance. Ramban calls this type of phenomenon a hidden miracle (nes nistar).
According to Ramban, the physical rewards described in the second paragraph of the Shema can follow only in the wake of the acts of many individuals. God has an interest in showing His approval of the Jewish people when they follow His laws by granting them the type of success that other nations will want. Miracles are to be noticed and the actions leading to them are to be emulated. This scenario provides an ideal mechanism: it is not so obvious as to remove free will but noticeable enough to bring about serious reflection. In any event, the mechanism plays itself out on the group level. Hence, there is ample reason for Divine recompense to be associated only with the paragraph that speaks about the group and not with the one that speaks to the individual.
Another noteworthy difference between the two paragraphs in question is the exclusion of me’odecha (“your possessions”)87The exact meaning of this word is unclear, and we have followed the popular rabbinic understanding. See Berachot 54a. from the set of commitments expected from the group.88See Rabbi S.R. Hirsch, ibid., and Recalling the Covenant, p. 904, both of whom are of the opinion that it is replaced by the phrase of ule’ovdo (and to serve Him), which they feel is essentially the same thing. People usually pay less attention to the expenditures of the state than to the effort and human resources claimed by national causes. On the contrary, it is not uncommon for citizens to be unconcerned about lavish expenses when it is on the state’s tab. Hence, although it makes sense for the individual to be commanded to spend his very last earnings for the sake of God and the mitzvot if need be, asking the same of the community does not add much to the demand for its will and manpower already stated in the second paragraph of the Shema.
The two differences we have just examined further establish the pattern of movement from a group of righteous individuals to a righteous nation. Together with everything we have seen so far, it becomes even more evident that going from the individual to the group is a fundamental part of the Jewish mission. It is now only left for us to briefly review this entire three-part unit’s central place in the Jewish liturgy and tradition.
The Pledge of Allegiance to the Mission
The Jews’ obligation of loyalty to God demanded in this section of Devarim is far from a private affair. It is not merely that this obligation can never really get off the ground if it remains on the individual level. The more crucial problem is that if loyalty to God would remain in the realm of the individual, the ensuing heterogeneity would disable the central mission for which the Jews were chosen, which is to provide an example to the rest of the world. This is the reason Jews must recite the three paragraphs of the Shema in this specific order – to show their understanding of the pressing need for them to be a member of the group.
The first two paragraphs of the Shema summarize the larger unit, i.e., these paragraphs plus the “mitzva” section of Devarim they encompass. The entire passage is too hard to remember and too unwieldy to focus on with proper intention two or more times a day. Nevertheless, by invoking the introduction and conclusion, which together define the main theme, the Jew is making the full declaration of all that is included in the greater passage.
With these two summary paragraphs, the Jew pronounces his loyalty to God. In doing so, he is declaring loyalty to his national mission as well. He is announcing and internalizing that his commitment to God is not just a rational move of self-interest or a glib declaration of knowledge. It is part of something much larger. It is speaking to his identity as part of a nation with a mission no less than the redemption of all mankind. With this in mind, the Jew must stand up and be counted as part of God’s nation, or not be counted at all.