Moshe’s Torah
Most readers are aware that the book of Devarim is significantly different from the other books of the Torah. For instance, words and expressions that don’t appear anywhere else in the Torah suddenly appear here.1For example, Moshe is only now referred to as “the man of God” (33:1) or “the servant of God” (34:5). Likewise, the Jews are first referred to by the name Yeshurun (32:15; 33:4, 26). This is especially pronounced when we encounter a new word or phrase that describes the very same object or concept referred to by a different term in the other books. Even place names appear to be changed, such that it is not always clear whether similar sounding names (such as Kadesh and Kadesh Barnea) are referring to the same place or to two distinct places.2See also Devarim 10:6, which gives us a different location for the death of Aharon than the one we read about in Bemidbar 20:22–29. See also Ramban’s attempt to resolve this problem.
Moreover, entire stories and commandments from the four previous books are now given completely different treatments. Moshe’s new rendition of the incident of the spies that we already know from the book of Bemidbar (and which we will discuss in Chapter One) is the most famous. Many other stories, such as the appointment of administrative judges, and to a lesser extent the actual giving of the Torah, are recounted from a new vantage point as well.
Yet the most significant change is that Moshe generally now speaks in the first person, often telling us that “God told me . . .” as opposed to the more common narrative wherein we are told “God spoke to Moshe. . . .” The most obvious reason for this is that the majority of the book of Devarim records a series of Moshe’s speeches given to the Israelites at the end of his life, a time which, significantly, coincides with the end of their journey. We will explore whether the Jewish people’s new reality is what brings about a need for a new voice and narrative style. But whatever the reason, the book of Devarim stands in marked opposition to the Torah’s other books.
As would be expected, academic circles have attributed the anomalies of this book to its having different authorship from a different time period than most of the material in the first four books of the Torah.3See, for example, Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972), an important work in the tradition of Julius Wellhausen’s documentary hypothesis. See also, however, Joshua Berman, "Histories Twice Told: Deuteronomy 1–3 and the Hittite Treaty Prologue Tradition," in Journal of Biblical Literature 132.2 (2013): 229–250, who critiques this approach and presents an alternative more in line with traditional sensibilities. For an overview of the classical academic consensus and Berman’s impact upon it, see Aaron Koller, “Deuteronomy and the Hittite Treaties,” The Bible and Interpretation (September 2014), http://www.bibleinterp.com/articles/2014/09/kol388003.shtml. But this is certainly not the only way to understand Devarim’s uniqueness. Long before academic Bible study, classical commentators looked in a different direction to deal with the issues the book raises. They studied the elements that clearly already existed in the book itself and didn’t require speculation beyond that. To begin with, they examined Moshe’s new and different role in the book of Devarim, focusing on the fact that his voice is much more pronounced in this book. Once we ourselves fully understand this undisputable fact, it will certainly be easier to explain many of the other differences as well.
For some – like Don Yitzchak Abarbanel, for example – the possibility that Moshe might have written his own words in this book presents a big problem. In Abarbanel’s mind, it would compromise the book’s divinity and consequently its authoritative status. For that reason, he feels compelled to push off such a notion. However, his thesis is not entirely convincing.
Other commentators feel less threatened and come to the more obvious conclusion that it is, in fact, Moshe’s own words that we read in the book of Devarim.4See, for example, Ramban, and especially Ohr haChaim, Devarim 1:1. Both base themselves on the statement in Megilla 31b that the curses given in the book of Devarim (28) were from Moshe rather than from God. It is not clear from this statement whether this is the only section of Devarim that can be attributed to Moshe or whether it is true of most of Devarim. However, we find the following in the Zohar: “What we call Mishneh Torah (Devarim) was said by Moshe himself" (Zohar, Vaetchanan 22, p. 261a). See Shaul Regev’s fairly comprehensive treatment of this issue in “Who Wrote Deuteronomy?” Bar Ilan University Faculty Lectures on the Torah Reading, December 1998, http://www.biu.ac.il/jh/parasha/eng/devarim/reg.html. According to this approach, God presumably made Moshe understand that he should include his own words here, alongside the other books of the Torah.5See Ran, Megilla 31b, who suggests that God commanded Moshe to include his own words here in the Torah. But even with God’s “seal of approval,” the authorship is ultimately still Moshe’s. For these commentators, Moshe’s writing down his own words and not the actual words of God does not compromise the book’s status at all. It remains just as holy and, more importantly, just as authoritative as the first four books. We will soon try to better elucidate how this can be.
The approach just introduced shares an important common denominator with the academic approach mentioned above. Both ultimately ascribe different authorship to the book of Devarim than that of the first four books. However, the classical commentators maintain that far from living in a different time period, the author of the book is the man most closely connected with the rest of the Torah. Still, the basic resolution is the same: different authors will use different words, and they will also see and describe events in different ways.
Chapter 1 gives an in-depth illustration of how Moshe saw things differently from the more objective, Divine rendition given in the other books. But the idea really needs no illustration. No matter how connected Moshe was to God, could we really expect him to have the same omniscience in his description of events? To have the same perfection in his choice of words? This is far from saying that Moshe erred in his word choice or descriptions. Rather, it is axiomatic that Moshe could not completely reflect the perfection – and certainly not the objectivity – of God.
All of this being the case, ascribing Mosaic authorship to the book of Devarim seems an effective strategy in resolving most of the issues usually raised concerning the book. The question, however, is whether such a strategy exacts too high a price for the traditional reader. Let us therefore return to the problem that disturbed Abarbanel.
Moshe, the Man of God
Given how exacting the Jewish tradition is regarding the meaning of every word – nay, every letter – of the Torah, Abarbanel’s concern is actually quite obvious: Abarbanel seems to make a connection between God’s choice of words in the Torah and its complete reliability as binding truth. Therefore, if Devarim is essentially a record of Moshe’s words and not God’s, how can it have the same status as the unadulterated words of God that constitute the rest of the Torah? While this doesn’t invalidate what we read in it, still, if Devarim is only a record of Moshe’s understanding of God’s commandments, surely that should make it more similar to the subsequent prophetic books than to the other books of the Torah. For what distinguishes those books from the Torah more than anything else is that they were written by and in the words of the prophets, and not as the direct word of God.6See Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Yesodei haTorah 7:3, 6. Why then, should Devarim be viewed as any different from those books?
What the above question fails to take into account is the status and level of Moshe at the end of his life and career. True, Moshe remained a human being, as will be discussed in the final chapter. Yet his understanding of God was unparalleled, and as such, one can’t really say that Devarim was only written by Moshe. Although the book would not bear the perfection of God Himself, it would be as close to perfection as was humanly possible.
To better appreciate the idea just mentioned, it will be helpful to understand the books of the Bible as comprising a spectrum of holiness. It is well known that the Writings (Ketuvim) are on a lower level than the Prophets (Nevi’im), which, in turn, are not as holy as the five books of the Torah. Perhaps it would not be a far stretch to suggest that there may be differences within each grouping as well. For example, the rabbis (Mishnah Yadayim 3:5.) praise the holiness of Shir haShirim as something highly unusual, and one could easily understand this to mean that it is more holy than the other books that comprise Ketuvim.
In light of this, we could say the same thing about the books of the Torah; in the same way that there is a difference between Shir haShirim and, for example, the book of Ezra, there is also a difference between the first four books of the Torah and the book of Devarim. However, it is not significant enough of a difference to take it out of the category of Torah and put it into the category of Nevi’im, and therefore there is no difference in its status or authority. To cite a parallel from the American government, the senator from California may be more influential and represent far more people than the senator from Delaware, but since they are both in the category of senators, they both get the same voting power in the Senate.
Many have echoed Abarbanel’s concern that the Torah not be brought down to the human level. But we can put this issue on its head with much more interesting results: The fact that a human book can be included in the Torah is a tribute not only to Moshe but to mankind more generally. It is saying that a man can become so elevated in his consciousness and understanding that his words can be just as authoritative as the Divine writ.
When all is said and done, it is ultimately God Who allows Moshe to include his own words in the Torah, and it is He Who determines that Moshe’s words have the authority of Torah. For a man to get such approval and to have his words put side by side with those of God is nothing less than mind-boggling. This is not to make a comparison between Moshe and God, since the gap between them is greater than anything than we can even imagine. It is, however, saying that with regard to the transmission of God’s will to man, a human individual can understand it so well as to actually intuit it himself.
This high intuitive level was limited to Moshe alone and it is likely never to be repeated,7This could well be the sense of verse 34:9, which states that there never arose another prophet like Moshe. but that it was accomplished at all should forever put to rest the small-mindedness with which we limit ourselves, saying “we are only human.” To be human means to be of the same species as Moshe! We have the potential, at least in theory, to soar to the heavens and truly fathom the deepest, most profound and sublime thoughts that can possibly exist.
What Happens after the Torah?
With the conclusion of the Torah, the reader is left wondering about the future. As with all books, the Torah’s words cannot stretch on infinitely, yet at the Torah’s end one feels a certain loss of the Divine voice. If we can feel this as readers, we can only imagine how much more intensely those who actually experienced it must have felt.
What are we to make of this? Given the sense of loss we feel, couldn’t God have continued the Torah in subsequent volumes, finding or elevating others who could become His transmitters? And if the problem is finding someone suitable, certainly God has more than one way to accomplish what He wants. It appears that in spite of His ability to do otherwise, God felt it appropriate to limit His words.
The net, and presumably desired, result of God’s placing these limits is that it has provided a greater role for man. In one of my previous volumes, I mentioned the Midrash that says Moshe felt it was more appropriate for angels than for man to transmit the word of God.8Francis Nataf, Redeeming Relevance in the Book of Exodus (Jerusalem: Urim Publications, 2010), pp. 38–40. Not only was this the operating norm up until then, it is likely the default position. That God chose to do otherwise and involve man is an anomaly, and far from something we can take for granted.
In this regard, the Torah serves a dual role: it transmits extremely important information, but it also brings up a man to give others the courage to participate in an endeavor in which they might have felt extremely intimidated. Had Moshe not been the first prophet to record his words, who would have had the courage to do so? Hence, had Devarim been like the four books preceding it, it is hard to imagine that there would have been any more volumes of the Bible. Devarim serves as a book of transition to subsequent works of Jewish religious literature. In the absence of such a transition, other men may have been too afraid or intimidated to even endeavor to understand and interpret – let alone record – the lofty and far-removed words of God.
As I continue to record my understanding of the Divine text, I find that Moshe’s special last book of the Torah provides an indispensable link for my own efforts. I feel as if I am writing as part of a tradition that in some way only begins with this last book.
Moshe is our teacher not only because of the information he taught, but for the information that he created. Without discounting the chasm between ourselves and this completely unique religious giant, Moshe shows us that God wants human beings to be involved in Torah and to use all of our creative and spiritual faculties in doing so. It goes without saying that this requires a great deal of care and trepidation, even more than the care we take with the most precious of commodities. Yet it is important for us to forever remember that our great awe for the Torah does not, and should not, preclude our involvement in its interpretation.
In the same way as the Torah was not complete without Moshe’s book, the expansive corpus of Torah will not be complete without its last student’s “book.” It is the job of all who are able, to continue it. In this we can only echo the words of the rabbis who remind us that while it is not up to us to complete the task, neither are we free to desist from it (Avot 2:16).