“If you perform My statutes, and guard my ordinances, and do them—then you shall dwell in the land securely.” (Leviticus 25.18) On the surface this makes no sense. We can seek spiritual fulfillment from dawn to dusk, we can preach the Word of God on the corner of every street, but how should this bring about our physical security? Consider the Tibetans—what good are mantras of enlightenment and avowals of non-violence in the face of China’s army?
Rabbi Chizkuni recommends a different reading: “’You shall dwell therein securely’—[this means] the Land shall give you her strength so that you be not consumed by your enemies.”
In other words, spiritual striving on its own will not grant us physical security—a book of Talmud is not the same as a bayonet. But religiosity will do something of far greater and more lasting significance—it will imbue the nation with confidence. Through the sanctification of ourselves and our land, we draw sustenance.
An analogy comes to mind. Over the last few years, we saw a lot of banks fail. These banks did not fail because their vaults were insecure. The locksmiths and security guards did their jobs. They failed because there was nothing inside the vault. CEOs were selfish and greedy. They underwrote bad loans for the promised return of a few extra interest points. In the end, the very meaning of a ‘bank’—as a repository of trust and security—dissolved to dust.
This week began with a celebration of Israel’s Independence; it ended though with protests of her Independence. In Alexandria, Egypt protesters chanted, "With our souls, with our blood, we redeem you Palestine." Make no mistake, they meant and mean all of Palestine.
True. Israel has made its share of mistakes. Some politicians and pundits will try to defend the State while others prefer to admit error and try for a just resolution. But editorials and interviews make no impression upon those who hate us. As Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits once put it, “Whoever denies us the right to human shortcomings is at the bottom of his heart denying us the right to live.”[i]
So let it be said again, the vault is vitally important, but it is from the treasure within—the Sabbaths of the Land—that we draw our sustenance.
Shabbat Shalom
[i] Rabbi Berkovits’ Sermon, “The Wandering Amalek” was delivered in February, 1941. Published in his book, Between Yesterday and Tommorow
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