Parashat Va'etchanan
How Does Moshe’s Longing to Enter the Land of Israel Affect Us Today?
How Can We
Ever Appreciate the Privilege of Living in Israel – a Gift Even Moshe Didn’t
Merit?
During the four
years we lived in the United States, I cried and yearned for the Land of Israel
every single day. Before coming to Israel, learning in yeshiva and marrying me,
my husband had committed to serve in a physician shortage area in exchange for
a scholarship to medical school. He managed to delay fulfilling this obligation
for seven years, but eventually, the time came: either work as a prison doctor
or face legal consequences. When he consulted with Dayan Eliashiv zt”l, we were
surprised to learn that there was no halachic way around it – we would have to
leave the Land.
After making
Aliyah in 1980 and firmly establishing our home in Eretz Yisrael, the decision
to leave in 1988 felt like a personal exile. We found ourselves in the heart of
the Big Apple, where my husband began his medical internship. Two years later,
in 1990, he was transferred to the Memphis Correctional Center. I had never
even heard of Memphis, Tennessee, but to my surprise, it was home to a vibrant
and welcoming Jewish community.
Still, despite
the Southern warmth and hospitality, I never felt at home. My soul longed for
the kedushah – the holiness – of the Land of Israel. Every place I
visited outside the Land felt somehow flat, two-dimensional, like living inside
a movie set rather than a real, rooted life. Despite the beauty of its lush
forests and lovely beaches with their fresh, cooling waters, I never felt a
sense of belonging in Denmark. Something essential was missing – and that
longing was what propelled my journey toward truth.
When I finally found
my way back to Israel, I felt enveloped in a deep sense of peace and security,
as though I had returned to my spiritual source. No other place has ever
offered me that feeling of being truly at home. Yet, in the heart of my Memphis
exile, I found comfort in a teaching from Rav Kook: that every Jew who longs
for Eretz Yisrael awakens a spiritual ripple that inspires others to make
Aliyah. Indeed, I have been blessed to see many friends from America eventually
return home to Israel.
To live
permanently in the Holy Land – the place that even Moshe Rabbeinu longed for
yet did not merit to enter – is an extraordinary privilege. We must never take
it for granted. The depth of Moshe’s yearning, expressed through his 515
heartfelt prayers, reminds us that Eretz Yisrael is not merely a place to live
– it is the deepest expression of connection to Hashem.
May we live here
with that awareness – with love, gratitude, and a burning desire to sanctify
every moment upon this holy soil.
What Can We
Learn from Moshe’s Deepest Yearning to Enter the Land?
Moshe Rabbeinu,
the greatest of prophets and the most faithful servant of Hashem, had one
unfulfilled dream: to enter the Land of Israel. Parashat Va’etchanan
opens with a poignant and deeply personal moment – Moshe’s heartfelt plea to
Hashem:
ספר דברים פרק ג פסוק כג
וָאֶתְחַנַּן אֶל הַשֵּׁם בָּעֵת הַהִוא לֵאמֹר:
“I
pleaded with Hashem at that time, saying…” (Devarim 3:23)
Why does the
Torah use the term וָאֶתְחַנַּן/va’etchanan – from the root חִנּוּן/chanun – to
describe Moshe’s supplication, rather than וָאֶתְפַּלֵּל/va’etpallel? Chazal explain that this word denotes a
plea for a matnat chinam – a completely undeserved gift. Moshe, despite
all his unparalleled merits, asks not in the merit of his deeds but out of
sheer humility, begging for Divine compassion.
The commentaries
reveal even deeper layers. The wordוָאֶתְחַנַּן /Va’etchanan shares the numerical value of 515, alluding
to the 515 prayers Moshe offered. This is also equal to the words תְּפִלָּה/tefilah – ‘prayer,’
שִׁירָה/shirah –‘song,’
teaching that his prayer was offered with melody and deep emotional expression,
setting an example of the highest way of prayer (Pe’anach Raza). The Siftei
Kohen notes that Moshe chose the word va’etchanan rather than va’etpallel
to indicate his approach: not just a formal prayer, but a heartfelt entreaty
rooted in praise and longing. He addressed Hashem first as Adnut, Master
of Compassion, and then with the Divine Name of Mercy, expressing his hope to
arouse Divine favor.
Why did Moshe
pray so intensely? According to Siftei Kohen, he sought not only to
enter the Land himself but to elevate its value in the eyes of the people. If
he – the greatest of men – longed for it so deeply, offering hundreds of
prayers despite knowing a decree had been issued, it must be that Eretz Yisrael
is of immeasurable worth. His plea was not only personal; it was national and
eternal. By showing how much he yearned for the Land, he taught all generations
to long for it, cherish it, and never take it for granted.
Why Was Moshe
So Desperate to Enter the Land?
I’m always moved
deeply when I read Moshe’s deepest prayer for entering the Promised Land. It inspires
me in the greatest sense and inculcates within me the immeasurable value of
Eretz Yisrael.
ספר דברים פרק ג
פסוק כה אֶעְבְּרָה נָּא וְאֶרְאֶה
אֶת הָאָרֶץ הַטּוֹבָה אֲשֶׁר בְּעֵבֶר הַיַּרְדֵּן הָהָר הַטּוֹב הַזֶּה
וְהַלְּבָנֹן:
“Pray let me
cross over and see the good land that is on the other side of the Jordan, this
good mountain and the Levanon” (Devarim 3:25).
Moshe’s longing
to enter Eretz Yisrael was not driven by personal comfort or curiosity. Rather,
his yearning for Eretz Yisrael was ultimately spiritual. He longed to fulfill
the many mitzvot that can only be kept in the Land – such as terumot, ma’asrot,
and shemitah – as Chizkuni notes. His soul thirsted to connect to
Hashem in the unique way only possible in the Holy Land, where the physical and
spiritual are deeply intertwined. The Ralbag explains that Moshe hoped
to increase his own spiritual completeness – both in prophecy and in wisdom –
through the Divine influence present in the Land, as it states, “There is no
Torah, like the Torah of the Land of Israel” (Midrash Bereishit Rabbah 16:4).
Moshe’s imploring
prayer confirms the Talmudic lesson never to give up: “Even if a sharp sword is
placed at a person’s neck, he should not withhold himself from seeking mercy” (Babylonian
Talmud, Berachot 10a). As the Midrash (Pesikta Zutreta Devarim
3:25) explains, even after Hashem had decreed, “You shall not bring this
congregation into the Land” (Bamidbar 20:12), Moshe continued to plead
for mercy. Just as Hashem had forgiven Israel, perhaps He would also forgive
him for the sin at Mei Merivah (the Waters of Contention), for striking
the rock instead of speaking to it, as commanded.
According to the
Kli Yakar, Moshe’s request encompassed both the physical land and its
spiritual epicenter – “this good mountain and the Levanon,” referring to
Yerushalayim and the Beit HaMikdash, which the Pesikta Zutreta
identifies as the source of spiritual cleansing (“Levanon” from melabein,
to whiten sins). Thus, Moshe’s 515 heartfelt prayers (equal in number to the
gematria of וָאֶתְחַנַּן/va’etchan)
were not for personal gain but a passionate desire to serve Hashem more fully
in the holiest place on earth. Hashem’s response, רַב
לָך/rav lach – “It is too much for you”
(Devarim 3:26), was not a harsh rebuke, but a tender redirection:
Moshe’s mission was not to enter the Land himself, but to prepare the next
generation to inherit and reveal its holiness.
Seeing the
Land from Afar
Though Moshe was denied physical entry, Hashem
granted him a unique consolation: to ascend Har Nevo and gaze upon the entire
Land from a distance:
ספר דברים פרק לד פסוק א-ב וַיַּרְאֵהוּ
הַשֵּׁם אֶת כָּל הָאָרֶץ… עַד הַיָּם הָאַחֲרוֹן:
“Hashem showed
him the entire Land… until the Western Sea” (Devarim 34:1–2)
This panoramic
vision was far more than a geographical glimpse. According to the Sifrei
and other Midrashim, Hashem showed Moshe not only the Land itself, but also its
future – every generation that would dwell there, every exile and Redemption (Sifrei
Devarim 357, on Devarim 34:1). In a deep spiritual sense, Moshe did
enter the Land – not physically, but spiritually, and prophetically – planting
his soul within its soil for eternity.
Rabbi Yosef
Bechor Shor explains that Moshe’s request was not driven by personal desire for
landownership – he was a Levite and received no inheritance. Rather, he yearned
solely to behold the Land with his eyes, so that his longing might be fulfilled
(Rabbi Yosef Bechor Shor, Devarim 3:25). Rabbi Ovadia ben Ya’acov adds
that Moshe hoped to bless the Land through his vision – that his seeing it’s
goodness would establish its enduring blessing for Israel (Sforno, ibid.).
Rabbi Shemuel Bornsztain offers a profound insight: through seeing,
one becomes connected to the object seen. Moshe’s gaze upon the Land bound it
to his soul and infused it with blessing. Although he was not permitted to
cross into Eretz Yisrael, his vision was answered – and through it, Heaven and
Earth were realigned. His seeing sanctified the Land, enabling its holiness to
flow into future generations (Shem Mishemuel, Parashat Vayigash,
5675).
How Do We Carry On the Legacy of Moshe?
Moshe’s deep desire to enter Eretz Yisrael teaches us the
extraordinary spiritual stature of the Land. Even the greatest prophet was not ‘complete’
without it. If Moshe was willing to plead 515 times just for the opportunity to
perform mitzvot in the Land, how much more should we cherish the privilege of
living here, walking its hills, and fulfilling the Torah in its natural setting.
Parashat Va’etchanan reminds us that the Land of Israel is a gift – not an entitlement.
Just as Moshe asked for it as a matnat chinam – “a free gift,” we too
must approach it with humility and gratitude. The Land is not merely a national
inheritance but a Divine trust, to be guarded, cultivated, and uplifted.
Today, we carry
Moshe’s longing in our own hearts. Every Jew who dreams of Tzion, every prayer
facing Jerusalem, and every mitzvah performed in the Land continues his legacy.
Moshe’s unfulfilled yearning awakened a spiritual ripple that continues to
inspire us to make Aliyah. Although his 515 prayers did not overturn the decree
that barred him from entering the Land, each of his prayers bore fruit for the
sacred mission of his descendants: to live in the Land with holiness, to
elevate its earth with Torah, and to prepare it for the final Redemption.
As we read Parashat
Va’etchanan during the Shivah D’Nechemta – the seven weeks of
consolation after Tisha B’Av – we are comforted by knowing that although Moshe
could not enter the Land in his lifetime, his spirit remains woven into its
mountains and valleys. And we, his spiritual heirs, are privileged to carry on
what he began.
