Parashat Devarim: How Does Parashat Devarim Reveal the Soul-Work Required to Inherit the Land?

 

                                                               Parashat Devarim                                                                  How Does Parashat Devarim Reveal the Soul-Work Required to Inherit the Land?

The Holy Land’s Harvest – What Does it Take to Deserve its Goodness?

During the peak of Israel’s scorching summer heat, it’s easy to fall into complaint. For me personally, the summer season presents a unique challenge: coping with the overwhelming fruit abundance of our homestead. Before explaining what makes it so overwhelming, I want to note that I consciously replaced the word ‘hardship’ with ‘challenge’ – to avoid speaking negatively about the holy Land of Israel.” My cup of blessing truly overflows through the merit of living here and being appointed by Hashem as stewards of a plot of land in Bat Ayin.

Yes, the earth is hard and unyielding. And while its fruits are delicious, we are not trained farmers and haven’t yet figured out how to grow organic, bug-free apples, pears, apricots, and nectarines. That leaves me standing at the kitchen sink for hours each day, cutting away black spots, worms, and their tunnels or abandoned burrows from the fruits before turning them into juice, applesauce, pies, and compotes. Believe me – we’ve tried everything (or nearly everything) to heal our fruit trees: neem oil, essential oils, nematodes, netting... Yet every summer from July through September, I find myself back at the kitchen sink.

Still, seeing my grandchildren gobble up the goodness of the land – enjoying fresh organic apple juice, biting into a crispy apple slice, or savoring a juicy piece of nectarine – fills me with profound joy and fulfillment. No true good comes without effort. As the Mishnah teaches, “L’fum tza’ara agra” – “The reward is in proportion to the exertion” (Pirkei Avot 5:23). Indeed, “The Land of Israel is acquired through hardship” (Babylonian Talmud, Berachot 5a). So, I console myself with the thought that there must be a spiritual purpose behind these challenges. Perhaps our struggles in growing worm-free organic fruits are what help us deserve and become truly worthy of the goodness this sacred land offers.

How Does the Land of Israel Test Our Spiritual Readiness?

Possibly our physical struggles with the fruits of the Land hint at a deeper truth: the bounty of Eretz Yisrael is always accompanied by spiritual demand and responsibility. Rabbi Shammai Ginzburg, drawing on Midrash Tanchuma and Bamidbar Rabbah, reveals a striking insight: those who rejected the Land were punished not only by being denied entry, but by being unable to enjoy even its fruits. The Midrash explains that when the people said, “Our soul loathes this miserable bread,” they were not referring to the manna, as commonly assumed, but to the fruits of the Land shown to them by passing merchants. Their rejection was so profound that some died merely upon seeing baskets of fruit from Eretz Yisrael, so deep was their estrangement from its holiness (Imrei Shammai, Devarim 1:35).

Rabbi Akiva teaches that this reaction was a direct consequence of accepting the spies’ slander. Just as the spies portrayed the fruit as strange and exaggerated, so too did they describe the inhabitants. Their punishment, measure for measure, was that they would never taste the goodness of the Land.

The Land of Israel demands more than physical arrival; it requires moral and spiritual alignment. Even the greatest of prophets could not enter if he fell short of the Land’s exacting standards. We learn that the Land of Israel does not tolerate spiritual complacency from Hashem’s declaration:

ספר דברים פרק א פסוק לה

אִם יִרְאֶה אִישׁ בָּאֲנָשִׁים הָאֵלֶּה הַדּוֹר הָרָע הַזֶּה אֵת הָאָרֶץ הַטּוֹבָה אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי לָתֵת לַאֲבֹתֵיכֶם:

“Not one of these men, this evil generation, shall see the good land that I swore to give to your fathers” (Devarim 1:35).

The Land of Israel is described here as “the good land” – not merely agriculturally good, but spiritually good, reserved for those who live up to its standards. Entry into the Land is not only a birthright, but a merit that must be earned.

The Abarbanel expands this point with profound clarity. It is fitting and proper that “like attracts like” – that similar things should be brought close together. If the people had been good, like the Land is good, then it would have been proper for them to enter it. Yet it is not fitting for a corrupt generation to enter an inherently good Land. Had the generation been worthy, their entry would have aligned with the goodness of the Land. Still, the Divine oath to the forefathers would not be annulled. It would be fulfilled through their children – those who would embody the values necessary to truly inherit the Land.

How Does the Land Select Those Worthy to Enter it in the Wake of Redemption?

Especially during these trying times – the birth pangs of redemption – the difference between those aligned with the goodness of the Land and those who are not is becoming more evident. Never in B’erot’s 30-year history do I recall a time when so many accepted students still did not merit joining us in the Holy Land. Their reasons for deferring are often illogical and sound more like excuses: “I’m concerned I won’t be able to renew my visa.” “What if I later want to make Aliyah and end up losing my current citizenship?”

From the moment Israel received the Torah at Sinai, we were meant to enter the Land – were it not for the sin of the spies, which delayed our entry for forty years. Those who hesitate today are, in some way, echoing the sin of the spies – choosing fear and doubt over trust and destiny.

Rabbeinu Bachaya teaches that the ultimate settlement in the Land will not come through the First or Second Temples, but at the final Redemption, which will never be followed by exile. This is why the book of Devarim concludes the Torah: its ending hints at the renewal of the world, the very purpose of creation. The Torah thus begins with Bereishit (Creation) and ends with Devarim (Redemption), in line with the principle “its end is embedded in its beginning.” The five books of the Torah are woven together: renewal leads to unity, unity is expressed through sacrifices, and sacrifices reach their fullness only in the Land of Israel. Only through the final redemption – inseparable from Eretz Yisrael – will Israel attain its complete fulfillment (Rabbeinu Bachaya, Devarim 1:1). So, if you are Jewish – or seeking to enter the Jewish people – it is high time to join us on the Land before it becomes too late.

Rebuke at the Border – Why Does Moshe Begin His Final Speech with Geography?

As the book of Devarim opens, Moshe stands on the threshold of the Promised Land, preparing to deliver his final words to the nation he has led for forty years. Rather than launching directly into exhortation or instruction, the Torah begins with a curious list of locations:

ספר דברים פרק א פסוק א אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר מֹשֶׁה אֶל כָּל־יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּעֵבֶר הַיַּרְדֵּן בַּמִּדְבָּר בָּעֲרָבָה מוֹל־סוּף בֵּין־פָּארָן וּבֵין־תֹּפֶל וְלָבָן וַחֲצֵרֹת וְדִי זָהָב:

“These are the words that Moshe spoke to all Israel across the Jordan – in the wilderness, in the Aravah, opposite Suf, between Paran and Tofel and Lavan and Chatzerot and Di Zahav” (Devarim 1:1).

Why does Moshe begin his final speech to the nation with a string of obscure geographical references? Rashi famously explains that these are not merely directions on a map – they are allusions to the sins and stumbles of the Israelites throughout their journey. Moshe subtly reminds them of the past to guide their future. But the emphasis on place is not incidental. It reflects a profound truth: the Torah is not only a book of ideas or values – it is a map for living in the Holy Land. Every location Moshe names is infused with memory, meaning, and moral consequence. The sins of the past are recorded not only in the text of Torah, but in the very soil of the land they are about to inherit. Thus, the Land of Israel is not merely the setting for Jewish history; it is a Divine partner in the covenant.

Parashat Devarim is always read during the Nine Days leading up to Tisha B’Av. In this season of mourning and introspection, Moshe’s words serve as a rebuke at the border. Before the people can enter the Land, they must take moral stock. We, too, must ask: What does it mean to be worthy of the Land of Israel? The opening list of places reminds us that the Land remembers. It holds the echoes of our missteps – and the promise of our return. Even the sins of the past can become stepping stones when we confront them with humility and resolve. Eretz Yisrael is not just a land we inhabit; it is a land that holds us accountable. It demands more from us – more integrity, more faith, more commitment to each other and Hashem. As we begin Devarim and draw close to the mourning of Tisha B’Av and the yearning for the rebuilding and comfort of Nachamu, we are reminded that the Land of Israel is not just our destination – it is our destiny.