And now, write for yourselves this song, and teach it to the Children of Israel. Place it into their mouths, in order that this song will be for Me as a witness for the children of Israel.
Devarim 31:19
With this verse God commands Moshe to write down the words of the Torah, and to teach the Children of Israel to contemplate them and use them as their guide. Commentators and philosophers throughout the ages have wondered why the contents of this instruction manual should be called a song?
Just after Moshe’s death and before the battle at Jericho, a heavenly being with the appearance of a man confronts Yehoshua, the Jewish people’s new leader, approaching him a sword in his hand. Yehoshua asks him, “HaLanu Ata?” Are you with us [or against us]?” And this divine being responds, “No, I am the commander of God’s legion. Now I have come!” And Yehoshua prostrated himself before him…[1]
Fulfilling the Intention
The Talmud interprets this rather strange and incomprehensible interaction as an allegory whereby Yehoshua understood the threatening sword in the creature’s hand as a symbol of God’s displeasure with him and the whole nation of Israel.[2]
The heavenly man said that he came to criticize the people of Israel for their failure to study the Torah and to fulfill the intention behind the command, “Now!,” as it says in the verse, “Now, write this song for yourselves and teach it to the children of Israel.”[3]
What does this all mean? Indeed, one of the major questions of religious Jewish life is whether one commits himself to Torah because it is an inheritance (i.e., tradition), or because it is truly the song of one’s life. Judaism as inheritance functions as a comfortable lifestyle, a heritage that one is happy to continue because of history and values, but not because one’s whole life’s mission is interwoven with it.
A song however, is something entirely different. Song bubbles up from within a person when he becomes overwhelmed by his experience, or when something touches the deepest levels of his soul. Song expresses meaning beyond the logic of words. An authentic song reveals the ineffable as it protests against the rigidness of a purely verbal mindset.
Blurring the Boundaries
Such a song never comes about simply from a commitment to a lifestyle. True song bursts forth when a person’s whole being becomes absorbed in its deep inner dimensions. Only when one experiences the blur of boundaries between doer and deed, singer and song, can one speak of an authentic religious experience. One must achieve a state of ecstasy in which one no longer sings the song but is the song.
This is the reason why the Torah is called a Song. “Now write for yourselves this song,” means that a Jew must strive with passion to make his relationship with the Almighty his ongoing raison d’être – his song of life. This verse calls on us to do no less than turn our lives into a work of art in which every moment expresses holiness, dignity, and the ultimate beauty. [4]
The renowned poet, Rainer Maria Rilke was once asked by a young admirer whether he should become a poet. He responded, “Only when you cannot live without being a poet.” And so it is with a life of Torah. Only when one cannot imagine life without it, does the Torah truly become a song. Now!
Notes
[1] Yehoshua 5:13–14.
[2] See Eruvin 63b; Megilla 3a; Sanhedrin 44b. The following interpretation is based on the commentary of the Maharsha, Chiddushei Aggadot on Eruvin 63b.
[3] Devarim 31:19.
[4] Based on an oral interpretation in the name of the late Ponevezher Rav, Rabbi Yosef Kahaneman z”l.
