Parashat Re’eh
Deut. 11:26–16:17
By Jen Smith, Guest Torah Blogger
This week’s Torah portion, Re’eh, introduces us to the laws of ma’aser sheni, a unique contribution where produce is not given away, but instead consumed by the owner. But wait – there’s a twist: the produce must be eaten in Jerusalem. The farmer would then take the offering, which could measure 1,000 (for example) out of a 10,000-bushel harvest and schlep it all the way to Jerusalem. Though they had wheels (but no arch support sneakers), but this was no small task. The Torah, in its infinite wisdom, not only recognizes these real challenges, but it also offers a practical solution:
“If the journey is too long because you cannot carry your produce to the place where God has chosen…, then you may exchange it for money. Take the money to Jerusalem and use it to buy whatever your heart desires – cattle, flocks, wine, or anything else – and enjoy your goods with your family before God” (Deut. 14:24)
This law not only makes life a little easier, but it also supports Jerusalem’s burgeoning economy, ensuring that this sacred city thrives. However, the passage is written curiously. The Torah says, “If the road is too long because you cannot carry it…” The cause and effect are seemingly reversed. Reviewing the parsha this week, the grammar caught this grammar obsessed Jewish mom off guard. After all, isn’t it true that one cannot carry such a heavy load because the road is too long, not the other way around?
Is the Torah suggesting that we extract a deeper lesson than the cause and effect of exertion?
In thinking about Re’eh, I am reminded of a story my childhood rabbi once told me about the businessman that his father met. The businessman’s father, a devoted Jew, never compromised his Shabbat observance, even after losing his career and various jobs because he refused to work on Shabbat. But the man’s son, the businessman, chose to live a different path than his father. When asked why, his son explained that while his father never missed a mitzvah, he would still sigh heavily and say, “Oy! It is terribly difficult to be an observant Jew!” After years of hearing this, the man’s son grew up and determined the burden was too heavy to bear and, instead, chose not to observe the mitzvot at all.
It was at this point that I remember seeing my rabbi sit back in his office chair, waiting expectantly for me to respond. I remember saying: What then Rabbi? What’s the point?
It took me a long time to understand that the message of this story is profound: when we view mitzvot as a heavy burden, the mitzvot themselves become exponentially heavier, and the road becomes insurmountably long and arduous. However, when we approach the mitzvot of Torah with joy and gratitude, the journey becomes lighter, and the road becomes shorter. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy!
In our modern frenetic world, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the demands (and price tags) of Jewish life. Whether it is keeping Shabbat, kashrut, or carving out time to study and pray, there are obstacles every step of the way, making the road to connection steep and endlessly long. But the Torah reminds us that the weight of these obligations is more about our perspective. If we carry our mitzvot with joy, they uplift us rather than weigh us down.
When we embrace mitzvot with a positive spirit, we not only make our own journey smoother, but we also inspire future generations to engage in Jewish life. This Shabbat, may we be reminded of our ancestors’ path, so that our children and grandchildren grow up secure in the knowledge that with God’s help, we can overcome even the most impossibly tasks.
Shabbat Shalom.