Ha’azinu
Deuteronomy 32:1 – 52 

By Jen Smith 

Parashat Ha’azinu is unlike almost anything else in the Torah. After forty years of wandering, after laws, stories, and struggles, Moses concludes his life’s mission with a poetic song: 

“Give ear, O heavens, let me speak; let the earth hear the words of my mouth…” (Deut. 32:1) 

Moses knows his time has almost come to an end. Though he led the people through triumph and rebellion, desert and revelation, he also knows that he cannot cross the Jordan with the Israelites. And so, his last gift is a song that promises to outlast the material parchment and echo in the hearts of Jews throughout every generation. 

Why does Moses call on heaven and earth to listen? The rabbis offer two answers. First, heaven and earth are eternal – they will always be here to affirm God’s covenant, even when human beings falter. But on a deeper level, Moses reminds us that we must engage in both heaven and earth to lead truly spiritual lives. Heaven represents the realm of spirit and vision; earth represents the realm of deeds and responsibility. Holiness is found not only in prayer and meditation but in how we act in this world – how we pursue tzedek (justice), chesed (kindness), and emet (truth). 

The mystics teach that heaven and earth are like two mirrors facing each other: when we act with compassion and integrity below, the heavens reflect our light back upon us. In this sense, our actions reverberate in both realms. 

Moses continues: “May my teaching drop like rain, and my speech distill like dew” (Deut. 32:2). 

Rain and dew are not the same. Rain comes in torrents, and while sometimes the rush is overwhelming, it is also deeply nourishing. Dew is subtle, gentle, and ever present even when unnoticed.  

Rain is like the many great mitzvot that demand so much of us, standing up for the vulnerable, building community, and carrying the weight of Jewish life. While dew is more like small, daily acts of holiness like offering an encouraging word or a smile, and the whispered prayer before bed. 

The Zohar teaches that dew symbolizes Shefa – the divine abundance that flows invisibly to sustain the world. Just as the earth cannot live without dew, our souls cannot live without small, consistent touches of holiness. 

Jewish life demands both: the big commitments that change the world, and the quiet gestures that change a life. 

Throughout the poem, Moses delivers a colorful image of Israel’s future, sketching out its triumphs, its failings, its exiles, and its returns. Ramban and other Torah scholars saw Ha’azinu as a prophetic map of Jewish history. Just like music, Jewish history has crescendos and silences, dissonance and resolution. And yet, the melody is never broken. 

We hear this song echo through time: in our ancestors’ exile from Spain during the Inquisition, in the haunting silence of the Holocaust, in the rebirth of Israel, and in the flourishing of Jewish life across the Diaspora today. Ha’azinu assures us that even when the song seems hidden, its rhythm carries on. 

Jewish mysticism sees Ha’azinu not merely as Moses’ song, but as a cosmic vibration. The Zohar says that the Torah itself is a song written in fire, with every soul represented as a note within. Even our sages believed that we release sparks of divine light each time we pray and sing. 

That means Ha’azinu is not only Israel’s national song, but also our personal song. Our struggles, laughter, tears, and choices all become part of a divine melody. When you live with compassion and courage, your note harmonizes with the eternal. 

In our modern world, filled with noise and distraction, it is easy to forget the song. Ha’azinu calls us back to listen – not simply with our ears, but with our souls. The Baal Shem Tov taught that everything we see and hear can teach us something about serving God. He taught that the rustle of leaves, the laughter of a child, and even silence, are all critical verses in God’s everlasting song. 

And just as instruments go out of tune, so do we. That is why Ha’azinu falls during the Days of Awe. Tis the season for our tune-up! As Jews, we are called upon to make the necessary adjustments within ourselves to realign heaven and earth, balance the rain and dew of our commitments, remember the ancient and enduring melody of our people, and to sing our own note with integrity and pride.  

So we are left with this question: What song will we sing into the world this year? Will it be a song of complaint or despair, or a melody crafted from gratitude and hope?  

May we all find our unique song and share it with the harmony of our people. And may our lives together become part of the Eternal song that once began with Moses and continues to echo through ourselves, our family and friends, through heaven and earth. 

 Shabbat Shalom!