By Rabbi Ariel J Friedlander

Why do we read both portions?

This time of year is a season of transitions. In the northern hemisphere we move from summer to autumn, from hot to cold, & from light towards dark. It is a great change, and human nature leads us to focus on what feels most positive, so we accentuate the joy. Yet we begin on a sombre note, recalling the passing of Moses and the mourning of the Children of Israel.

Succot has gently prepared us. We experience joy, seeing the fruit of our labours, savouring the colours and the tastes of the harvest, welcoming guests to dine with us in the Succah. And we read Kohelet, the book of Ecclesiastes:

“A time for being born, and a time for dying

A time for planting, and a time for uprooting the planted …

A time for weeping, and a time for laughing

A time for wailing, and a time for dancing”

In the midst of our rejoicing, we are reminded of the need for humility. At the same time, we can also see resilience from generation to generation, as each of us faces the ultimate, immutable decree. And so we arrive at Simchat Torah, and it carries us from the sadness of loss, across the abyss, and into the renewal of Creation.

This is a great leap. We find it hard to face death, and the emptiness of not knowing what lies beyond, so we tend to jump quickly and optimistically towards rebirth, and the beginning of everything.

The rabbis, however, spent a lot of time examining Moses, his behaviour and feelings upon hearing the news that he was going to die. Moses lived for 120 years, had children to continue his name, and could look back on a life that had made a major contribution to his community. Yet the Midrash says that Moses desperately wanted to continue living. He begged God not to take his life. When that didn’t work, Moses asked heaven and earth, the sun and the moon, the stars and the planets, the mountains, the hills, and the sea to intercede with God on his behalf; but they would not. He even drew a small circle, stood within it, and refused to budge from that spot until God changed God’s mind1. After all that Moses had invested, it was hard for him to accept that he should die just short of completing the task.

The Torah says that Moses was not allowed to continue with the Children of Israel across the river Jordan into the Promised Land as a punishment for hitting the rock2. That is exactly what the text says. However, Midrash explores the reasoning, and teaches us that God explains to Moses: “each generation is to have its own interpreters of Torah … each generation is to have its own leaders. Until now, it has been your portion to serve Me, but now your disciple Joshua’s portion to serve has come.”3 Moses has had his turn, and needs to let go. Now it’s time for someone else to have the opportunity.

We face endings all the time: work, relationships, and life itself. Indeed, the person we were at this time last year no longer exists, as we have been altered by our deeds and experiences between then and now. What will happen next is uncertain, which makes it all the more difficult to let go. I find comfort in the life cycle of a butterfly. I find great hope in this process. The caterpillar enters its cocoon, and is never seen again. But we see a butterfly emerge from that same cocoon. We see the transition, and know it is possible. Why not then see the celebration of Simchat Torah as a similar process? Each year we enter its cocoon, and emerge into a brand-new world.

And to help us to cross over, from weeping to laughing, and wailing to dancing, we can recite the traditional formula for the ending of a book in the Torah: chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek - Be strong, hold fast, and let us strengthen one another.4

For Katy.

1 Sefer HaAgada 137 p101 2 Numbers 20:12 3 Sefer HaAgada, ibid. 4 חֲזַק חֲזַק וְנִתְּחַזֵּק - I like this translation, discovered here: https://hebrewcollege.edu/blog/looking-back-looking-forward/

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