La parasha est une unité de division de la Torah. Les communautés juives se penchent sur une parasha par semaine, découpage qui permet de couvrir l’entièreté de la Torah sur une période d’un an.
Le texte suivant traite de Devarim, soit la première parasha du Deutéronome (1.1-3.22). Il reprend l’intégralité du sermon que j’ai prononcé le 21 juillet 2023 à la synagogue Temple Israël, à Ottawa.
Parashah Devarim
There are times in our lives when circumstances invite us to stop and think about who we are as individuals. When that happens, we inevitably draw from personal memories, some which we’re happy to remember, others we’d rather forget. We look at what has brought us to where we are, and we begin imagining where we could go from there.
Not unlike individuals, so too countries, peoples and nations draw on their collective memory and recall the events that made them in order to frame the present and shape the future. This, as we know, is never simple. Drawing from collective memory means navigating between facts and legends, between glory and tragedy, between the elation of common purpose and the despairing prospect of fragmentation. Yet we all agree on one thing: the importance of transmitting memory, of teaching history. Canada is no different.
This week we begin Deuteronomy with parashah Devarim. Israelites, led by Moses, are just about to enter the promised land. It’s the culmination of a long journey that began with the exodus from Egypt and continued forty years through the wilderness. A journey so long in fact that a generation has passed.
Being so close to having the promise fulfilled and being so close to the end of his life, one would think that Moses would hurriedly direct Israelites to cross the river Jordan and take possession of the land. Known to be a man of action, not of words, we would expect him to finish his task. But instead, he pauses in order to deliver a series of sermons.
In parashah Devarim, which introduces his first sermon, Moses reviews some of the milestones since departing from Sinai: the choosing of tribal representatives to govern everyday matters and adjudicate disputes; the episode of the spies reporting back on conditions in the Holy land after a reconnaissance mission, causing Israelites to doubt God’s plan; the various encounters, some peaceful, some belligerent, with other nations.
Perhaps it is fitting for Moses to recall such events, as he will continue to do in the next parashot. After all, Israelites are at an important juncture, and Moses, aware of his imminent death, may feel the need to remind them of their past transgressions, and the corresponding divine retribution they faced, an admonition that serves as a kind of cautionary tale: adhere to God’s plan, remember the covenant, and you will prosper and be victorious in the promised land.
Moses’ historical review is all the more important since his audience, being the second generation, did not witness the events. He needs to transmit the knowledge; they need to acquire the memory. They need to understand where they came from, why they are standing there, and how to avoid repeating the mistakes of their parents as they move forward. In fact, at times Moses reproves the new generation, as if not only history was being passed on, but also guilt for their parents’ sins.
It’s worth noting that in Devarim Moses gives accounts that differ in some ways from those found in previous books of the Torah. Did he change the story as a result of new information? Or because Israelites had changed? Or because he himself had changed? Perhaps for all these reasons. But it certainly seems that he was reinterpreting.
Thus, like Moses in Devarim, peoples and countries have stories to tell, a history to teach. It’s never a neutral endeavour since, consciously or not, it influences views about who we are now, or who we think we are, and where we should be heading. And it’s rarely only about facts, but also about values and nation-building. Canada is the same.
Canada met its immigration target last year and welcomed over 430,000 new permanent residents. The government’s plan sees this number increase yearly to half a million by 2025. As with Moses addressing the new generation as they are about to cross the Jordan, the history of Canada needs to be told over and over to Canadian-born citizens and newcomers alike.
And as Moses’ sermon suggests that the promised land is not just about possession of the land, but obedience to the covenant, so is life in Canada not just about residing on its territory, but also about adhering to a set of mutual obligations and commitments, a social contract as it were. Some of these mutual obligations and commitments are well-known, such as the rights and freedoms recognized in any liberal democracy. Others are unique to the Canadian experience, are born out of our own struggles to address the many solitudes and to respect our differences, while at the same time renewing the desire to share a common future. When learning Canada’s history, with its successes and failures, what is being instilled is not only knowledge of past events, but knowledge of the principles and practices, both time-tested ones and new ones, that can allow us to sustain a shared community. Learning how Canada came about, it seems, is also learning about how to be Canadians tomorrow.
Also instructive is how Moses’s account in Devarim differs in some ways from the description of the same events in other books. We know that answering questions about “who, what, when, where and why” –especially “why”– are never-ending efforts. Just as what we were taught about Canadian history when we were young is different from what our parents were taught, what will be taught tomorrow will be different from what the young are taught today. This is not only because new investigations shed light on the past and change our evidence-based understanding of it. It’s also because we ourselves change as new voices from around the world are added every day, and as voices that had been unheard are listened to, indigenous ones being a current example. Our sensibilities evolve, and which stories we believe merit attention evolves.
This is not without pitfalls. In a polarized society, political ideologies, whether they come from the right or from the left, can seek to substitute complex historical narratives with simple ones, preferring a single worldview to the messier idea that there could be different, but equally legitimate, layers and viewpoints. They also tend to proclaim the righteousness of their judgements, with end-of-history undertones. Armed with the belief that they have reached the pinnacle of social and political thought, they don’t fear future generations’ judgements. This does not sit well with Devarim, which instead takes the route of teaching a complicated past, of carrying responsibility over multiple generations, and of being aware of our fallibility while looking towards a promising, but yet to be written, future.
I think that Moses’ sermon to the Israelites can be inspiring in our current Canadian environment. Devarim is a reminder of the importance of transmitting the knowledge of what brought us to where we are today, achievements and dark moments alike. It also illustrates how we can be guided into the future by values that span generations. And finally, it suggests that evolving and competing narratives are integral to a country’s history.