Entering a Land of Peace
By Rachel Farbiarz
In Parashat Re’eh, the Israelites are given intimation of the shape of their future society across the Jordan River. The portrait of the Israelites’ world-to-come generally radiates an exuberant sense of well-being—reflecting a society contentedly organized and functioning smoothly.
The desert nomads are regaled with how they will yearly process to a central site for the dedication of their agricultural bounty. Here, they will “rejoice before the Lord your God with your sons and daughters and with your male and female slaves…” And if the way is too long to travel with such plenty, the pilgrim will exchange his bounty for money to spend at God’s designated site on “anything you may desire.”
In this halcyon world, the bounty of the land will be mirrored in a generous social order: Debts will be remitted and slaves freed each seventh year—sent off with gifts from their masters “out of the flock, threshing floor and vat.” The “stranger, the fatherless, and the widow” will celebrate the festivals with each household. And, if God’s commands are hearkened: “There shall be no needy among you…” With these tantalizing promises of communal celebration and a caring civil society, Parashat Re’eh holds out the promise of idyll, plenty and joy.
There are, however, fissures veining the serene portrait. Until the people have “come to the resting place, to the allotted haven,” this bountiful existence will not be fully realized. The world of festive in-gatherings and pilgrimages will not be established until God “grants you safety from all your enemies around you and you live in security.” Realizing the promise of the well-ordered, abundant society that our parashah describes depends thus not only on arrival in the land, but also on reaching a state of peace therein.
The Israelites accordingly are commanded to eliminate sources of conflict—both external and internal—in settling their new world. They are to destroy all vestiges of Canaanite idol worship. Israelite cities that have strayed into idolatrous practice must be razed, and false prophets are to be cut down. Until they have emerged from this period of destruction, the parashah seems to imply, the Israelites will not realize the golden promise of their thriving society.
This approach to achieving peace and stability—the total eradication of conflict through violence—is of course understood today to be facile, cruel and ultimately unwise. Conflict cannot simply be excised tumor-like from society, and such blunt efforts to do so will likely only bring on its metastasization. Indeed, we have come to understand that conflict’s debilitating effects linger long after formal hostilities have ended.
In his lucid book, The Bottom Billion, economist Paul Collier identifies violent conflict among the several “development traps” that keep those in the world’s poorest countries—“the bottom billion”—from thriving. Specifically focusing on internal conflicts—civil wars and coups—Collier details how such instability stalks and then dismantles progress in the world’s poorest regions, effecting “development in reverse.” Collier reports that 73 percent of people in the world’s poorest countries are currently in, or have recently been through, a civil war, and that the experience of these persistent conflicts plays a significant role in “trapping” countries in poverty.
Civil wars, in Collier’s estimation, reduce growth by 2.3 percent per year. And critically, economic decline persists well after fighting has ceased. Lasting about seven years, a typical civil war thus leaves a country about 15 percent poorer than it would have been at peace. The war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo, for example, will require about 50 years of continuous peace at its current growth rate to simply return to its income levels of 1960.
With such debilitating consequences, violent conflicts are thus a formidable barrier to poor countries’ development—much less to achieving the sort of serene society depicted in our parashah. But here Collier’s analysis provides some hope and circles back to the symbiosis between peace and societal flourishing articulated in Parashat Re’eh. The strongest predictors for conflict, Collier argues, are not a country’s political, historical or ethnic configurations, but their economies. More than any other factors, low income and slow growth make it likely that a country will become mired in war. That is, while conflict impedes growth and reduces income, the relationship simultaneously holds the other way too: poverty breeds conflict.
To build societies in our parashah’s image, it may thus be wisest to heed its own admonishment: “Do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy brother. Rather, you must open your hand and lend him sufficient for whatever he needs.” When we do so, we invite the possibility that from our open hands will not only fall seeds of prosperity—but also of peace.
Farbiarz, Rachel. "Parashat Re'eh 5774." American Jewish World Service D'var Tzedek." (Viewed on August 20, 2014). http://ajws.org/what_we_do/education/publications/dvar_tzedek/5774/reeh.html
See and Observe
By Rabbi Yaacov Finn
This week’s parshah, Re’eh, contains an eclectic mix of laws including the laws of kashrut, tithes, remission and the pilgrimage festivals: ostensibly there is no connection between them. However, when considered in the context of the opening line – ‘See, I set before you today a blessing and a curse’ (Deuteronomy 11:26), I believe that an approach encompassing all these elements can be built. For this phrase starts somewhat oddly: it could simply have stated ‘I have set before…’. The addition of the word ‘Re’eh(See)’ is not only calling the listeners to attention but instructing them to direct their sight toward a set of options.
In doing so it is also suggesting the theme with which to connect the disparate elements of the ensuing parsha, namely, the religious requirement of sight.
Implicitly (as I hope to show), Moses is saying that to be religious and to follow a code of law takes perception: it requires the ability to ‘see’ between different choices, to ‘observe’ realities and to react accordingly. Starting with the laws of kashrut (fitness, correctness, especially for food) as presented in this week’s portion, they all focus on observable elements: Does this animal chew the cud and have split hooves? Is this bird a bird of prey? Does this fish have fins and scales? All these are objective criteria, and thus require the individual to observe, to see whether an item is permissible or not.
Moving to the laws of the tithe – the requirement either to share one’s harvest with the Levites, or the poor or to eat the produce in Jerusalem (depending on the year) – it is clearly a tool to promote a re-awakening of religious sight. By forcing the farmer to forego part of his foodstuffs, the giving of the tithe is supposed to encourage the farmer to observe how it is through divine will that the field yields its bounty. Furthermore, it is supposed to focus the farmer’s attention on those in society who are in need of support, e.g. the poor.
The laws of shemita (the remission year), require masters to let servants free and creditors to release individuals from their debts. Again, these demand an element of perception; one cannot help the poor if one doesn’t notice the poor! These laws require one to leave his or her own bubble, to ‘see’ those around them and act accordingly. Again the message is clear – ‘look’, ‘see’.
Finally, we must consider laws of the pilgrimage festivals for this is the slight exception. No longer an exaltation to be ‘observant’, the festivals are supposed to serve as a reminder of how the Jewish people are being watched over by G-d. ‘Three times in the year, every one of your males shall appear before the Lord, your God, in the place He will choose:’ (Deuteronomy 16:16). Three times a year Jews during the temple era would have to make the trek to Jerusalem to be ‘seen’, to remind them that G-d is forever watching, eternally observant.
I acknowledge I have not addressed every law (and there are many) in this week’s parshah. But based on this simple analysis it seems the whole portion is a plea by Moses in his final moments for the Jews to become a discerning people, an ‘observant’ people. This parshah is all about the requirement to be perceptive: to see, to observe and, on occasion, to be aware that we are being observed.
Finn, Yaacov. "Re'eh 5774." Limmud on One Leg. (Viewed on August 21, 2014). http://limmud.org/publications/limmudononeleg/5774/reeh/
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