(כו) רְאֵ֗ה אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה׃ (כז) אֶֽת־הַבְּרָכָ֑ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּשְׁמְע֗וּ אֶל־מִצְוֺת֙ יהוה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ (כח) וְהַקְּלָלָ֗ה אִם־לֹ֤א תִשְׁמְעוּ֙ אֶל־מִצְוֺת֙ יהוה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם וְסַרְתֶּ֣ם מִן־הַדֶּ֔רֶךְ אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם לָלֶ֗כֶת אַחֲרֵ֛י אֱלֹהִ֥ים אֲחֵרִ֖ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹֽא־יְדַעְתֶּֽם׃ {ס}(כט) וְהָיָ֗ה כִּ֤י יְבִֽיאֲךָ֙ יהוה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ אֶל־הָאָ֕רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־אַתָּ֥ה בָא־שָׁ֖מָּה לְרִשְׁתָּ֑הּ וְנָתַתָּ֤ה אֶת־הַבְּרָכָה֙ עַל־הַ֣ר גְּרִזִ֔ים וְאֶת־הַקְּלָלָ֖ה עַל־הַ֥ר עֵיבָֽל׃ (ל) הֲלֹא־הֵ֜מָּה בְּעֵ֣בֶר הַיַּרְדֵּ֗ן אַֽחֲרֵי֙ דֶּ֚רֶךְ מְב֣וֹא הַשֶּׁ֔מֶשׁ בְּאֶ֙רֶץ֙ הַֽכְּנַעֲנִ֔י הַיֹּשֵׁ֖ב בָּעֲרָבָ֑ה מ֚וּל הַגִּלְגָּ֔ל אֵ֖צֶל אֵלוֹנֵ֥י מֹרֶֽה׃
(26) See, this day I set before you blessing and curse: (27) blessing, if you obey the commandments of your God יהוה Adonai that I enjoin upon you this day; (28) and curse, if you do not obey the commandments of your God יהוה Adonai, but turn away from the path that I enjoin upon you this day and follow other gods, whom you have not experienced. (29) When your God יהוה Adonai brings you into the land that you are about to enter and possess, you shall pronounce the blessing at Mount Gerizim and the curse at Mount Ebal.— (30) Both are on the other side of the Jordan, beyond the west road that is in the land of the Canaanites who dwell in the Arabah—near Gilgal, by the terebinths of Moreh.
If Deuteronomy 11:26 begins with re'eh, an imperative verb in the singular, why does it end with lifneichem, which includes a plural suffix of possession? Who is this information truly for?
RABBI BRADLEY SHAVIT ARTSON...According to our Sages, we learn from the singular Re’eh (“See”) that the mitzvot are given to the entire people–to all Jews as a group. The contours of our religion are not the personal preference of each individual Jew. Yet at the same time, the phrase ends with lifneichem (“before you [all]”), a plural construct, to remind us that each individual must decide whether or not to commit heart, mind, and soul to cultivating our b’rit (“covenant”) with God. ("Parashat Re’eh, August 13, 2001", in “Today’s Torah,” Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies)
How are we to understand this verse for us today?
RABBI LAWRENCE HOFFMAN...For the Israelites, as for us, that day changed our lives: We learned to choose blessing as our lot .… The verb in “I give you” ought to read in the past tense, “I gave.” The Torah already has been given, after all; Moses is just recapitulating its contents here. But tradition insists that we read it as “I give.” This week’s blessing is not about some historical fact that happened once and for all; it is about ongoing human existence. Apparently, we have an ever-present gift from God, an ever-present choice, perhaps, between blessing and curse. (“Mixed Blessings: What a Difference Today Makes” in “Sabbath Week,” The Jewish Week)
RABBI DAVID ELLENSON…During the High Holy Days, the God of our machzor demands that we have no pretensions in regard to who we are as human beings. We are presented with two sides of human existence, with our weaknesses as well as our strengths….We must always remember that the world was created for our sake. At the same time, we are told that we are but ‘dust and ashes.' On the High Holy Days our prayers recognize this dual truth by asserting on the one hand that our inexorable fate as human beings is to sin and fall short. However, despite our human frailty, our infinite worth and our ability for transformation is constantly affirmed. The High Holy Days instill in those of us who are accustomed to competition and success a much-needed humility. At the same time, our prayers also encourage us to believe that we are not mired in unchangeable patterns and that we can change and grow….The High Holy Day liturgy, with its call for teshuvah…teaches us that while we are not capable of perfection, we can aspire to amelioration-of ourselves, of our relations with our family and our friends, and of our community, nation and world. So understood, the Yamim Noraim and the challenging words of its prayers constitute a precious gift beyond religious certitude. They provide for the possibility of new vision with which to embrace life. (Mishkan HaNefesh- Rosh Hashanah, xxiiff)
