The Jews are instructed that on the day they cross the Jordan river and enter their new land, they are to gather large stones, plaster them, and engrave upon them the entire Torah. These instructions are given twice in short succession, with slightly different wording (27:2 and 27:4-8), but why?

Rav S. R. Hirsch posits that the first instructions include the words “and it will be, on the day that you cross the Jordan…” because they were instructed to begin preparing the stones before they even cross the Jordan. It is only by virtue of the preparation that they merited to cross the Jordan in the first place. This instruction speaks to the power of mindset, intentional preparation, and concrete action in helping us achieve actual change.

As we near the Yamim Noraim (high holidays), this lesson is especially relevant for us; as we seek to improve our lives, the first step needs to be a change in our approach, ensuring that we give proper thought to our actions.

When the farmer finishes tithing his produce for the year, the Torah tells him to disperse the tithes to the Levi’im (Levites), orphans, widows, and poor so that they may claim it. We then declare that anything designated for others has been divested/given, that we did not stray from any commandments, and that we have not forgotten (26:13). Why would we have to declare that we followed all the commandments AND that we did not forget? Wouldn’t one imply the other?

Oznaim LaTorah suggests that the commandment to not forget references a previous commandment to not forget what Amalek did to us. While Amalek attacked our weak, we are commanded to give extra attention to those less prosperous and privileged and help them as best as we can. Following commandments is an attestation of our personal adherence to the Torah’s laws, while declaring that we have not forgotten is about helping others achieve their own personal growth.

This week’s Parsha introduces the rules of bikkurim, the first fruits that are brought to the Beit Hamikdash (Temple). The ceremony is scripted, including the farmer saying, “I have declared to G-d that I came to the land that our forefathers were promised” (26:3). The Kohen (priest) then takes the basket of fruits, after which the farmer immediately “answers” by briefly recapping the history of the Jewish people from the time they went to Egypt and became slaves, and were subsequently freed (26:5). However, the script seems to be missing something, as it mentions a declaration that was not previously mentioned, and an answer to a question that was not asked.

Rabbi David Fohrman asks these questions and offers an enlightening answer. He suggests that the mere presence of the farmer with his fruits is itself a declaration. The farmer’s attendance bears witness to the fulfillment of G-d’s promise of a home for the Jewish people. But does the farmer really understand his actions? After putting down the basket, the farmer goes into the history of the people, giving context to his actions.

It is easy to get caught up with the details of life and lose sight of the bigger picture. We follow rules, directions, and commandments, but understanding why we do things will make our actions more meaningful to us and for those that look up to us. The process of bikkurim outlines a process that infuses meaning into our actions: Showing up is the first step, taking positive action is the second step, and understanding our action’s purpose and significance confirms that those actions will be meaningful and eternal.

Parshat Ki Tavo describes the blessings that will be bestowed upon those that follow the Torah’s laws and the curses that will befall those that don’t. The Torah lists the acts that would trigger the curses, but seemingly undermines those acts being the cause by stating that the curses will befall us if we don’t serve G-d with happiness and gladness of heart (28:47). Is it the sinister acts that will cause the curses to be activated, or the lack of happiness?

Rabbi David Fohrman suggests that the initial script prescribed to the Terumah and Maaser donor frames the entire exchange, and should also frame our minds and attitudes. When bringing the crops to the temple, a donor details how difficult his ancestors’ lives had been, how we were slaves until G-d heard our cries, took us out of Egypt and led us to this land, which the donor is now privileged to share (26:5-11). Framing this act of giving is just as important as the act itself because the combination of act and perspective leads to happiness. The converse is when we think we deserve more and pervert justice to benefit ourselves, move property lines secretly, and perform other devious acts that may lead to greater wealth, but not to more happiness.

A final thought: If the act of giving and the words that accompany it are important, surely the medium in which we bring those fruits is important. It could be that the basket used to bring the fruits is meant to display how appreciative we are of the abundance that we were granted and that we are happy to present and share some of that with others. Proper perspective leads to appreciation, appreciation leads to sharing and sharing leads to true happiness.

Today. It’s a powerful word. It is used by doctors to define the exact moment their patients are to stop over-indulging, smoking, and drinking. It is used by account receivables to exact when they want their bills paid. Most importantly, it’s used by the Torah in describing what It wants from our attitudes. This week the Torah portion tells us: “Today Hashem commands you to perform these  decrees and statutes.” (26:16) There is obviously a deeper connotation. The commandments were not given on the day that Moshe read this week’s portion. They were given forty years prior. Also, at the end of the Parsha, Moshe calls the nation together and reminds them of the miraculous events that transpired during the exodus from Egypt. He discusses “the great wonders, signs, and miracles that your eyes beheld.” (29:1-3) Then he adds something shocking: “But Hashem did not give you a heart to understand or eyes to see until today.” What can the word “today” mean in this context?  Did the Jewish nation not have the heart to appreciate the value of splitting the Sea forty years back? Did they not revel in the miracle of Manna from its first earthly descent decades previously? How can Moshe say that they did not have eyes to understand until today?

Rabbi M. Kamenetzky explains that perhaps Moshe is telling his nation the secret of eternal inspiration. One may experience miraculous events. They may even have the vision of a lifetime. However, they “will not have the heart to understand or the eyes to see” until that vision is today. Unless the inspiration lives with them daily, as it did upon the moment of impact. Whether tragedy or blessing, too often an impact becomes as dull as the movement of time itself. The promises, pledges, and commitments begin to travel slowly, hand-in-hand down a memory lane paved with long-forgotten inspiration. This week Moshe tells us that even after experiencing a most memorable wonder, we still may, “not have the heart to discern nor the eyes to see.” Until we add one major ingredient. Today.

Of the many sub-topics in Parshat Ki Tavo, one especially noteworthy expression is when the Torah says, “G-d has not given you a heart to know, eyes to see, and ears to hear until this day” (Deuteronomy 29:3). Tradition (and Rashi) has it that Moshe gave Shevet Levi (the tribe of Levi) a Torah scroll, and the rest of the nation justifiably complained that they didn’t get one. Their complaint wasn’t that they didn’t get a scroll, but that future generations might have a problem with it. Upon hearing this complaint Moshe rejoiced. As Rabbi Liebowitz explains, Moshe was actually happy about a complaint because it showed how much the Jews valued the Torah and their bond with G-d so much, that they even thought about the future of that bond.

If we look closer at the Passuk (verse) we’ll see it even clearer: G-d gave us eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to feel. Why does the Torah say that our hearts will KNOW? The answer is that if we feel something strongly enough, in our hearts we know it to be true. The Jews knew in their hearts that they had to protect the future of the Torah by safeguarding against potential diversions, perversions and distractions. The Torah is telling us that we must look into our hearts and do whatever it takes to preserve, maintain and grow as Jews, until our hearts know what’s right. And if we don’t know exactly what we need to do, we can use our eyes to look at customs of the past, our ears to listen to the existing rules and leaders, and our minds to develop our own Jewish niche, until our heart knows we’ve found it.

Today. It’s a powerful word. It is used by doctors to define the exact moment their patients are to stop over-indulging, smoking, and drinking. It is used by account receivables to exact when they want their bills paid. Most importantly, it’s used by the Torah in describing what It wants from our attitudes. This week the Torah portion tells us: “Today Hashem commands you to perform these  decrees and statutes.” (26:16) There is obviously a deeper connotation. The commandments were not given on the day that Moshe read this week’s portion. They were given forty years prior. Also, at the end of the Parsha, Moshe calls the nation together and reminds them of the miraculous events that transpired during the exodus from Egypt. He discusses “the great wonders, signs, and miracles that your eyes beheld.” (29:1-3) Then he adds something shocking: “But Hashem did not give you a heart to understand or eyes to see until today.” What can the word “today” mean in this context?  Did the Jewish nation not have the heart to appreciate the value of splitting the Sea forty years back? Did they not revel in the miracle of Manna from its first earthly descent decades previously? How can Moshe say that they did not have eyes to understand until today?

Rabbi M. Kamenetzky explains that perhaps Moshe is telling his nation the secret of eternal inspiration. One may experience miraculous events. They may even have the vision of a lifetime. However, they “will not have the heart to understand or the eyes to see” until that vision is today. Unless the inspiration lives with them daily, as it did upon the moment of impact. Whether tragedy or blessing, too often an impact becomes as dull as the movement of time itself. The promises, pledges, and commitments begin to travel slowly, hand-in-hand down a memory lane paved with long-forgotten inspiration. This week Moshe tells us that even after experiencing a most memorable wonder, we still may, “not have the heart to discern nor the eyes to see.” Until we add one major ingredient. Today.

Of the many sub-topics in Parshat Ki Tavo, one especially noteworthy expression is when the Torah says, “G-d has not given you a heart to know, eyes to see, and ears to hear until this day” (Deuteronomy 29:3). Tradition (and Rashi) has it that Moshe gave Shevet Levi (the tribe of Levi) a Torah scroll, and the rest of the nation justifiably complained that they didn’t get one. Their complaint wasn’t that they didn’t get a scroll, but that future generations might have a problem with it. Upon hearing this complaint Moshe rejoiced. As Rabbi Liebowitz explains, Moshe was actually happy about a complaint because it showed how much the Jews valued the Torah and their bond with G-d so much, that they even thought about the future of that bond.

If we look closer at the Passuk (verse) we’ll see it even clearer: G-d gave us eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to feel. Why does the Torah say that our hearts will KNOW? The answer is that if we feel something strongly enough, in our hearts we know it to be true. The Jews knew in their hearts that they had to protect the future of the Torah by safeguarding against potential diversions, perversions and distractions. The Torah is telling us that we must look into our hearts and do whatever it takes to preserve, maintain and grow as Jews, until our hearts know what’s right. And if we don’t know exactly what we need to do, we can use our eyes to look at customs of the past, our ears to listen to the existing rules and leaders, and our minds to develop our own Jewish niche, until our heart knows we’ve found it.

Aliya Summary: Moshe reminds the Jews of all the miracles which have been their lot from when G‑d took them out of Egypt until that very day. He concludes by saying that it is therefore incumbent upon them to follow G‑d’s covenant.

Aliya Summary: This Aliya continues with the aforementioned blessings, and then launches a lengthy description of all the maledictions and suffering which will befall the Jews when they neglect the mitzvot.

“But, if we don’t listen to G-d…” Thus begins the “Tochacha”. The admonition against disobedience of Torah. There is a custom of reading this part in a low voice because of how devastating it is to realize that G-d needs to warn us in such graphic terms, what will happen if the Jewish People do not remain faithful to Him. Regrettably, we need these harsh words of reproach. Unfortunately, they have turned out to be prophetic more than once. The Tochacha is contained within one Aliya (resulting in the longest Aliya in the Torah) so as not to prolong the discomfort in hearing it.