Re'eh: The King is in the Field, Ready to Receive Us

by Rav David Dov Levanon, former President of the Jerusalem Rabbinical Court, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The month of Elul is approaching, and this Shabbat we will recite the prayer for blessing, peace, sustenance, and all good things during the coming month. In fact, we recite this prayer on the Sabbath before almost every month, which is why we call these Shabbatot the Sabbaths of mevarchim, "[reciting] blessings."

This week, we read the Torah portion of Re'eh (D'varim 11,26-16,17), which begins with a critical choice that G-d places before us: "See, I place before you today blessing and curse [on Mounts Gerizim and Eval, respectively]: the blessing is that you hear [in order to fulfill] the mitzvot…] and the curse is if you do not…" (11,27-28).

The straightforward meaning is that the very hearing of G-d's word is the blessing. And in fact, this remains the theme from here on for several Torah portions. That is, physical and material blessings are promised us only in Parashat Ki Tavo (D'varim 28), while the primary blessing is in simply listening to G-d's words.

The Alter Chabad Rebbe of Liadi wrote in his work "Likutei Torah" of the greatness and loftiness of the month of Elul, during which the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy shine. He even asked: "Why are these days not celebrated as a Festival just like Yom Kippur?" He answered that the days of Elul are days in which "the King is in the field," meaning that it is possible to meet Him anywhere, even while wearing the weekday clothes used for working in the field. That is, the Shechinah (Divine Presence) dwells within Elul, even though it consists of regular weekdays.

It would seem appropriate to explain this parable of "the King is in the field" in connection to Elul and based on a parable in a Medrash cited by the Tur (Orach Chaim 581):

"A city once owed taxes to the king but did not pay him. He came to them with an army to collect it. When he approached within ten parsahs [a unit of distance], the elders came out to greet him, and said, 'We have nothing with which to pay you.' The King granted them a discount of one-third. When he came closer, the middle-level leaders came, and he discounted them another third. Finally, when the King came very close, the entire town came out to greet him, and he erased the final third of the debt. So too, Hashem our King: The townspeople commit sins throughout the year, and then before Rosh HaShanah, the elders fast, and G-d forgives them a third of their sins; during the Ten Days of Repentance, the "in-betweens" fast, and G-d forgives them another third; and on Yom Kippur, everyone fasts, and He forgives them for everything…"

In the parable, the king has left his palace - analogous to the fact that the Holy Temple has been destroyed and the Shechinah itself is in Exile. The time for this, of course, is Tisha B'Av – right after which begin the Seven Weeks of Consolation, in which the King returns to His children and commiserates with them, striving to return to His home.

With this, we see that the words of the Medrash shine with meaning: In the month of Elul, the King is in the field, walking towards His sanctuary, in anticipation that his subjects will come towards Him, He will forgive their sins, and He will renew His kingship over them for goodness and blessing. This explains why the Likutei Torah added that the greatness of the days of Elul lies in the fact that "the King is in the field" – He is in movement, hoping for reconciliation and anticipating that his people will come meet Him. These days are therefore even more exalted than when the King is in His palace, hidden and concealed from all eyes, making it difficult for us to draw close to Him.

Another concept regarding the parable of "the King is in the field" stems from a comparison between Rosh Hashanah and the first day of Nissan, six months later. Nissan is the month in which the miracles of the Exodus from Egypt occurred; hence its name "Nissan" (from Nissim, Hebrew for "miracles"). This is the month in which Israel proudly and gloriously left Egypt, a month attributed to the Jewish people, and also the "head of months," symbolizing renewal and reinvention, just like the birth of the new moon.

In contrast, Tishrei is the beginning of the natural year; summer has ended and the winter is arriving once again. This "new year" hints at the natural world, influenced by the sun, the great driving force of nature. This is why Rosh Hashanah applies to all inhabitants of the world, the day on which the year's rains and personal sustenance are decreed. As such, the commandment of the day on Rosh Hashanah is to crown G-d over the entire universe, meaning over the natural world as well.

Our Sages (Tr. Rosh HaShanah 10b) differed as to the month of the Final Redemption: R. Eliezer says it will be in Tishrei, when the world was created, for he verses feature shofar both on Rosh HaShanah and in the great shofar blast of Future Days. R. Yehoshua says it will be in Nissan, based on Sh'mot 12,42 that speaks of the Exodus night as a 'night of watching' – a reference to a night that was watched and anticipated ever since Creation.

These opinions correspond to the two paths of redemption: miraculous, via the clouds of the heavens, and natural, with the Messiah arriving on a donkey. It would seem that the miraculous Redemption is appropriate for the month of Nissan, the month of miraculous salvations, when Israel merited to be like tzaddikim. But if we do not merit this, because of our sins, we require the month of Tshuvah (repentance), and then the Redemption will be via natural means, as is appropriate for Tishrei. It appears that the type of worship and service required for this is the knowledge that "the King is in the field" – He is everywhere, including in the natural world. And this is the preparation required of us before Rosh HaShanah, the day of judgement for the world of nature.

This returns us to the verses with which we opened, which require sharp and clear seeing and hearing! This is because the Torah is referring to the blessing found in the work of our hands, by virtue of the fact that we strive to contemplate and find G-d's Providence upon us in everything we do.