Rabbi Mordechai Pinchos Teitz, was the rabbinic leader of the Orthodox Jewish community of Elizabeth, New Jersey, and also a pioneer radio broadcaster who founded and delivered, for several decades, the weekly program Daf HaShovua, which was the first Talmud class ever heard over radio in America. In the later years of his life, Rabbi Teitz had severe throat problems, to the extent that his doctor told him not to speak publicly. Despite these strict orders, however, he decided to deliver a talk at a simcha, or joyous occasion, that he was attending. He prefaced his remarks by saying that even though his doctor had given him strict orders not to speak publicly, he had no fear that any harm would come to him from his words, because they would be coming from the heart. This remark, although its medical merits may be open to question, can help us understand the opening sections of Moshe's farewell address to the Jewish nation, as recorded in this week's parsha.

In parshas Devorim, Moshe begins his farewell address to the nation by recounting some of the events that occurred since he was sent by God to be their leader. We mentioned in last year's Netvort to parshas Devorim (available at Torahheights.com) that Moshe's long oration, which lasted thirty-six days, from the first of Shevat until his death on the seventh of Adar, poses a great difficulty for the commentators. This is especially so in light of the Talmudic statement that Moshe said the section of blessings and curses in the book of Devorim ‘from his own mouth.’ Some commentators explain this to mean that whereas, in regard to the rest of the Torah, God spoke directly through Moshe's mouth, meaning that Moshe delivered God's message to the people at the same time that he received it, in regard to the section of blessings and curses in the book of Devorim, Moshe first heard God's message, and then delivered it to the people. Other commentators, understanding this Talmudic statement differently, and in a broader sense, explain it to mean that the entire book of Devorim was said by Moshe on his own to the Jewish nation, albeit through divine inspiration, and was later said over to him by God to be written in the Torah as he had delivered it. However we understand this Talmudic statement, it certainly tells us that Moshe did not suffer from a lack of communication skills. This seems to be in conflict with what Moshe himself told God when He first asked him to speak to the Jewish people, as recorded in parshas Shemos and again in parshas Vaeira. There, Moshe told God "I am not a man of words….. I am heavy of mouth and heavy of speech" (Shemos 4:10). Last year we offered an approach that reconciles these seemingly contradictory sources, but I would now like to suggest a different approach based on a comment of Rabbi Avrohom Shmuel Binyomin Sofer, known as the Kesav Sofer, on this week's parsha.

The Kesav Sofer cites the Midrash Rabbah (Devorim 1:2) which relates the opening words of parshas Devorim, " These are the words (that Moshe spoke)," to a verse in Mishlei (28:23), " He who rebukes a man shall in the end find more favor than he that flattered with the tongue." The midrash explains that Moshe is the one who rebuked Yisroel, and he found more favor in their eyes, in the end, than did Bila'am, who flattered them but eventually caused them to sin. The Kesav Sofer explains that the people accepted Moshe's words, despite the fact that he had given testimony on himself that he was not a man of words, because his words came from the heart, and therefore entered into the heart. One is reminded here of the story concerning Rabi Avrohom Kalmanowitz of the Mir yeshiva in Brooklyn, who approached Henry Morgenthau, Jewish Secretary of the Treasury in the administration of FDR during World War Two and asked him to exercise his influence on the president to help rescue the Jews of Europe. Morgenthau was spurred into action, and his efforts helped create, in 1944, the War Refugee Board, which was instrumental in saving, by one estimation, perhaps 100,000 Jews from Nazi clutches. He later remarked that although he did not comprehend the Yiddish language in which Rabbi Kalmanovitz spoke, he understood everything he said, because of the emotional, heartfelt way in which he delivered his message. In the case of message, also, according to the Kesav Sofer, Moshe's words came from the heart, and, therefore, the people understood what he was saying, despite what may perhaps be described as his throat condition.

Based on the Kesav Sofer's explanation of the reason for the effectiveness of Moshe's oration, we can understand what seems to be an interruption in the flow of his message. Moshe begins his words of rebuke to the people by telling them that the trip to the Holy Land should really have lasted only eleven days, but they ended up traveling in the wilderness for forty years, due to their sins. Now, however, he tells them, they are ready to enter the land. At this point, Moshe describes the process of choosing judges to handle any cases of litigation that may arise among them. Why did Moshe choose this moment to mention this entire episode? What did the appointment of judges have to do with what he was in the middle of telling them? Rabbi Shlomo Goren, in his Toras Hamikra, explains this apparent interruption by referring to the Talmudic statement that the appointment of proper judges is worthy of keeping the Jewish nation alive and settling them upon the Holy Land (see Rashi to Devorim, 16:20). The purpose of a judicial system is to maintain peace among the nation, and in order for the Jewish people to endure in the land, they must care for each other and work together as a unit. Only judges who had a feeling of love for their people would be able to adjudicate their disputes in a manner that would maintain the cohesiveness of the unit. Perhaps, then, Moshe was offering himself as an example of how a judge should deal with the people. Although Moshe spoke words of rebuke to them, he did it in a way that made his inner feeling of love for them palpable, and, in that way, his rebuke was accepted. So, too, the judges needed to approach their task of judging cases in way that demonstrated their desire to bring peace to all involved in their adjudication.


 Actually, the section of appointing judges that Moshe mentions during his oration was already recorded, with some differences in detail, in parshas Yisro, when Moshe's father-in-law, suggested that he set up such a system. The Torah there tells us that this incident occurred 'on the next day,' (Shemos 15:13) which the midrash, cited by Rashi there, explains to mean the day after Yom Kippur. Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, zt"l, explained this to mean that when a judge considers a case, he must have in mind the experience of Yom Kippur. Just as we all hope that, on Yom Kippur, God will judge us with mercy, and not on the basis of strict justice, so, too, should the judge strive to judge the cases he handles in this way. In this spirit, said Rav Soloveitchik, the Talmud urges judges to use the method of 'peshara,' or judicial compromise, in judging cases, rather than strict justice, in order to give consideration to the human weaknesses of both sides, and arrive at an amicable solution. It was, then, this approach to judging the nation that Moshe wished to inculcate in the men he appointed, so that they would follow his example of sincerity and love in approaching the problems that were certain to confront them upon entering the land.