Haazinu
Haazinu is Moses’s farewell song to the Israelites, in which he talks about their status as God’s chosen people and the consequences of forgetting our dependency on God. Moses emphasizes that it is through keeping God’s word that the people will be able to live well in the land of Israel. Moses is told by God that he is now about to die, and that he will see the land but will not enter it.
Daniel Reisel
Daniel read Theology at Cambridge before training to become a doctor. He serves as Education Chair of the Jewish Human Rights organisation RenéCassin and is a past programming chair of Limmud Conference and Limmudfest.
This year, Shabbat Haazinu lies between the two High Holidays.
A valley wedged between two peaks — between the shofar-shouts of Rosh Hashanah and the breast-beating of Yom Kippur — it is a Shabbat of quiet, of calm, of poise.
The weekly text starts with Moses’ words, “Listen, O Heavens!” Our tradition suggests this means, “Listen, O Human Soul!” (Talmud Sanhedrin 91b).
The root of the word haazinu means to listen. It is different from shama, the verb familiar from the daily Shema prayer. Where shema means to hear, haazinu conveys a more sustained listening, something that requires effort and persistence.
From Modern Hebrew we have the word laazin, which means to tune in to a radio frequency. Through Moses’ words, we are invited to tune-in, to switch on, to use our antennae and become receptive.
Shabbat Haazinu invites us to listen. To each other. To the autumn stillness. To the sounds beyond ear-shot. To the godly aspect of our own inner voice.
God's voice is not to be found in the wind nor in the earthquake, not even, in Yehuda Amichai’s phrase, “in the big noise of beating swords into ploughshares”. It is the still small voice that poses the question “What is your purpose here?” to the prophet Elijah.
And so, this Shabbat, it is our turn to grow quiet and try to listen to what God wants us to do.
Each year, Shabbat Haazinu’s theme of listening coincides with the story of Jonah, which we tell on Yom Kippur afternoon. Jonah who would not listen. Jonah who ran away only to discover that one cannot run away from oneself.
The journey of Jonah is a series of dangerous descents: into the ship, into the sea, into the muted dark of the belly of the whale.
Psychologists tell us that when someone starts therapy, they often begin to remember their dreams. The act of speaking and listening is able to break down the barriers of self. It is only when we have the courage to listen to our deepest inner voice that we are able to remember our dreams.
It was the hazardous journey that caused Jonah to remember his purpose and his mission: “Et Hashem zacharti, vetavo Elecha tefilati - I remembered the Lord; and my prayer came in unto You”. The mission was the same before and after his descent; it was Jonah that had changed.
Jonah found his voice. It enabled him to make the people of Nineveh listen. And they did listen, so intently that on the holiest day of the Jewish year, we extol them as the ultimate ideal: their fate was sealed, but because they listened they were saved nonetheless.
So this Shabbat we stand between the awesome peaks. Between the ultimate demands upon the soul. And to our aid comes Shabbat Haazinu and tells us: Listen to the Universe. It speaks to us, through us. We are its dreams, its words and its silences.
Another Voice - Adina Roth
Adina Roth has been involved in Limmud South Africa since its inception. This year she co-chaired the Programming Team. She also presents at Limmud around the country on Bible and Literature and the occasional dream and dance workshops!
Take it Like a Man
Take it like a man
You will not enter the land
your life of service
in vain now
Hashem said: Speak to the rock
you struck the rock
Take it like a man
tantalising green promise glimpsed
this dream denied
your childhood moment mirrored:
eye to glittering jewels
hand directed to burning coals
clutching singed tongue
aral sefatayim
Take it like a man
your people move on
you ascend
to the mountain top
of crossings, not arrival
to die there alone.
Silence.
Moses Moses
You prayed for us
Who prays for you now?
I plead your injustice
Your yearning denied
by Adina Roth with thanks to Rose Oskowitz for invaluable help



