Devarim. Shabbat Chazon. Eikha/Ayeka

This drasha is dedicated to Rom Braslavski, may he be protected wherever he is.

We are opening a new book.

This marks a new stage — a deeper one.

I mean that both literally and figuratively.

Literally, we are opening this Shabbat the final book of the Chumash, the Five Books of Moses.Yes, we are already nearing the end of our annual Torah reading cycle.

This book is not so much a continuation of the biblical narrative as it is a summary of what came before.

For that reason, some call it Mishneh Torah, because it is a repetition (mishneh means “repetition,” from the word shnaïm, “two”) of many events from the first four books; others call it the Testament of Moses.

Finally, this book is attributed to Moses himself, who speaks here in the first person.

There is something very personal, very moving, about the Book of Devarim.

Devarim means “words.”

And the book, with the parasha that gives it its name, opens with these words:

אֵ֣לֶּה הַדְּבָרִ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֨ר דִּבֶּ֤ר משֶׁה֙ אֶל־כָּל־יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל בְּעֵ֖בֶר הַיַּרְדֵּ֑ן

These are the words that Moses spoke to all of Israel, across the Jordan. (Devarim 1:1)

Immediately, the Sfat Emet, like many commentators, points to a strange paradox:

This man who uses words so well — who employed them with such eloquence time and again to plead with God to spare the people of Israel during their long journey through the desert — isn’t he the same man who, when God first called him and told him he would lead the people, protested that he was “not a man of words”?

One classic explanation would simply say: he changed.

How many artists — from Jim Morrison to Leonard Cohen, from Freddie Mercury to Regina Spektor — once had lips paralyzed, trapped in silence by shyness, until the need to share what they had to give to the world became stronger than their fear?

And they became people of words.

That is the beauty of being in service (avodah) to Life.

When we feel carried by a mission, by the responsibility to offer something to others, it helps us overcome the limitations of our fears.

So too, Moshe stepped into his power because he knew that what he had to offer mattered more than his fear of being seen.

Isn’t that what we are all here for?

But for the Sfat Emet, relying on Rashi, the reason Moshe didn’t speak to the people of Israel wasn’t about him — it was about them.

It wasn’t his own limitation, but respect for theirs.

שהמתין עד שיוכל לדבר לכל איש ישראל כנ"ל

Moshe waited until he could speak to every Israelite .

Indeed, for the Sfat Emet:

ומרע"ה לא רצה לדבר עד שיהי' כח לדיבורו לכנוס בכל איש ישראל

Our teacher (Moshe Rabbenu) did not want to speak until his words had the power to enter into the heart of every single Israelite.

But when he does speak to them, his speech is also a farewell.

He reminds them they will have to go on without him — because no one human being can carry the weight of an entire people alone.

אֵיכָ֥ה אֶשָּׂ֖א לְבַדִּ֑י טָרְחֲכֶ֥ם וּמַשַּֽׂאֲכֶ֖ם וְרִֽיבְכֶֽם

:How can I alone bear your trouble, your burden, and your strife?

This is the mark of a wise leader: recognizing that one is not enough.

That the task is impossible, and therefore, the people must learn autonomy.

But the Sfat Emet doesn’t stop there.

There is something else in this shared responsibility.He reminds us that the word Moshe uses here for “how” is unusual.

He says Eikha.

Eikha is the first word of the book we read sitting on the floor in mourning on the night of Tisha B’Av.

And in fact, the Midrash (Eikha Rabbah 1:1) reminds us:

שְׁלשָׁה נִתְנַבְּאוּ בְּלָשׁוֹן אֵיכָה, משֶׁה, יְשַׁעְיָה, וְיִרְמְיָה. משֶׁה אָמַר(דברים א, יב): אֵיכָה אֶשָֹּׂא לְבַדִּי וגו'. יְשַׁעְיָה אָמַר(ישעיה א, כא): אֵיכָה הָיְתָה לְזוֹנָה. יִרְמְיָה אָמַר: אֵיכָה יָשְׁבָה בָדָד

..Three prophesied with the word “eikha”: Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah. Moses said: “How (eikha) can I bear alone…” (Deut. 1:12). Isaiah said: “How (eikha) has the faithful city become a harlot?” (Isaiah 1:21). Jeremiah said: “How (eikha) sits the city alone…” (Lamentations 1:1).

For the rabbis of the Midrash, these three eikha express three situations:— when everything is going well,— when people are misbehaving,— and when people are suffering.

Sometimes, I feel like we’re living all three at once, in these times of war.

I just saw a photo of Rom Braslavski, one of the Israeli hostages still held by Hamas and Islamic Jihad since October 7.

Rom just turned 21. The video was released by Islamic Jihad a few hours ago.

Rom has become a skeleton.

He looks like a living image of a Shoah survivor.

Except — he’s still there.

And thousands of innocents are suffering. On all sides. Because this war continues, and the terror group that started it — despite its own people's suffering — still refuses to release its hostages.

It is the eve of Shabbat, and all I want is to sit on the floor and say “Eikha.”

The incredible suffering human beings are capable of inflicting on one another.I just want to sit in the dust and cry.

As we’ll say at the beginning of Eikha (1:16): “Over these I weep.”

And then I remember what Rav Soloveitchik said:

There’s another time in the Torah where the word Eikha appears.

It’s when God calls out to Adam and Eve as they’re hiding in the Garden of Eden:

Ayeka — Where are you? (Genesis 3:9)

Ayeka (אַיֶּכָּה), he points out, is spelled the same as Eikha (אֵיכָה).

Only the vocalization differs.

And he teaches:

When we ignore the call “Ayeka — where are you?”, we will end up crying “Eikha — how could this happen?”

Yes, Moshe is speaking to us today.

These words — Devarim, the Torah — are here again and again, a wake-up call.

Are we ready to hear it?

In these times of war, rather than pointing fingers at others — often without knowing the reality on the ground — it’s time to turn the question back on ourselves:

“Where am I?”

We do need to open a new book.

As communities, as Peoples, as countries, and as a Humanity.

At the end of Eikha, we read this verse — a true call for cheshbon nefesh, for introspection:

נַחְפְּשָׂ֤ה דְרָכֵ֙ינוּ֙ וְֽנַחְקֹ֔רָה וְנָשׁ֖וּבָה עַד־יְהֹוָֽה׃

Let us search our ways and examine (ourselves), and turn back to the Source of Life. (Lamentations 3:40)

The call is for each of us — today.