Can Curses Lead to Blessings?

Rabbi Shlomo Riskin told the following story about a rebbe who survived the Shoah, known as the Klausenberger Rebbe. 

When he was a child, Rabbi Riskin was praying at the Klausenberger Rebbe's shul. The Rebbe had lost his wife and thirteen children in the Holocaust. He was one of the last to leave Europe, as he told people that a captain does not leave a sinking ship before the passengers.

He eventually got out, and on the Shabbat morning that Rabbi Riskin came to pray, something unusual happened: When the Torah reader came to the passage of tochecha, "rebuke," or curses that would befall the Jewish people due to our straying from the Torah and tried to read those verses quickly and quietly - as is the custom - the Rebbe said only one word: Louder!

The Torah reader was confused that the rebbe would go against tradition and decided to proceed quickly and quietly, assuming he had heard wrong, but then the rebbe turned around to the congregation with his eyes blazing and banged on the lectern, “I said louder!” he shouted. "Let the Master of the Universe hear!  We have nothing to be afraid of. We have already received all of the curses - and more. Let the Almighty hear, and let Him understand that the time has come to send the blessings!"

Rabbi Riskin was trembling, other congregants quietly sobbed. The Torah reader then read the verses loudly and slowly. At the end of the services, the rebbe turned back to the congregation with deep love in his eyes, "My beloved sisters and brothers, the blessings will come, but not from America. God has promised the blessings after the curses, but they will only come from the land of Israel. Let us pack our bags for the last time." Soon after that Shabbat, the Klausenberger Rebbe led his congregation to Israel, where they settled in Netanya. 

This morning, we read the tochecha, the rebuke.  We did it quietly, according to the traditional custom.  But the Klausenberger Rebbe’s angry request is understandable.  As was his insistence that his flock make aliya. 

Seventy years after the Shoah, the number of people who witnessed it continues to decrease.  And it seems pretty clear that a large segment of the Jewish world population will continue to live in the Diaspora, as has nearly always been the case.

It also seems clear that blessings and curses are to be found wherever we live – Israel or Diaspora.

This morning, I want to look at the tochecha, the list of Tochecha from a different perspective.  Not as a description of what ultimately occurred, but as a way of demonstrating the value and purpose of our tradition.  In a roundabout way, the curses delineate our blessings. 

Here are three examples:

One curse, which actually has three parts to it, is as follows:

If you pay the bride-price for a wife, another man shall enjoy her.  If you build a house, you shall not live in it.  If you plant a vineyard, you shall not harvest it.  (Deuteronomy 28:30)

Several weeks ago, we read the passages about exemption from army service.

If someone built a new house and didn’t dedicate it, let him go back so that he not die in battle and another person dedicate it.

If someone planted a vineyard and didn’t harvest it, let him go back so that he not die in battle and another person harvest it.

If someone paid the bride-price for his wife and didn’t marry her, let him go back so that he not die in battle and another person marries her

These are the same three categories, and it’s not a coincidence.

The Torah is trying to establish the hallmark of a civilized society, where people maintain appropriate boundaries, even during times of war. 

The “curse” is that, if we turn our backs on civilized society, those boundaries will be trampled.   The result of such wanton disregard is anarchy.

Second example. 

בבוקר יאמר מי יתן ערב ובערב יאמר מי יתן בקר  Baboker yomar mi yiten erev uva’erev yomar mi yiten boker  In the morning, you’ll wish it were evening and in the evening you’ll wish it were morning.(Deut. 28:67)

When I had the pleasure of attending the Rabbinical Assembly convention in Las Vegas a few years ago, I was told that casinos deliberately create lighting that obscures the difference between day and night.  It’s always 11 am in the casino. 

But that’s not normal, nor is it healthy.

The Torah in its original context, and Jewish tradition subsequently, goes to great lengths to sensitize us to the passage of time – day into night, night into day.

Thank God for giving the rooster the wisdom to know day from night.  That’s the first of the morning blessings we recite.

To be able to appreciate the rhythm of day and night is a blessing.  To be so disoriented or dejected that it doesn’t matter what time it is – it’s just one undifferentiated blob – is a curse.

The more we can control our environment superficially, the more important it is for us to recognize the natural rhythms. 

Stand outside in the morning.  Say Modeh Ani.  Give thanks to God that the birds know when to start singing.  Appreciate the promise of morning.  Say sh’ma yisra’el at night.  Allow yourself to sense nighttime as a time of vulnerability, a time that may call for extra protection.

Final example. 

In the list of warnings, the Torah mentions the victory of גוי עז פנים אשר לא ישא פנים לזקן ונער לא יחן goy az panim asher lo yisa panim l’zaken v’na’ar lo yachon.  A ruthless nation, who will show the old no regard and the young no mercy.  (Deut. 28:50)

Jewish tradition, starting with the torah, demands proper regard for the most vulnerable.

Respect for the old, education for the young. 

When I was growing up, my grandmother lived with us.  When we were about to leave as a family for an event, she would say to me, the youngest, only half joking, “Quick, let’s you and I go sit in the car.”  I asked her what was the rush and she said,  “The oldest and the youngest are the most likely to be left behind!”

The threat of attack from the “ruthless nation” that will disregard old and young reminded the Israelites, as it reminds us, that a community is judged by the support that it affords its most vulnerable members. 

We can view the rebuke as an anticipation of what will happen or a reference to what did happen.

This morning, I choose to view it as a record of what should happen, the kind of world that the Torah asks us to create and sustain.

Michlal lav, ata shomea hin.  From the negative, you learn the positive.

We should maintain appropriate, dignified boundaries. 

We should mark the rhythms of nature with appropriate spiritual and psychological recognition.

We should make sure that we protect those least capable of protecting themselves.

All that is our legacy and responsibility.  Not to have such a world is a great curse.  To achieve such a world is our great challenge and our greatest blessing. 

Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck on 8/24/13