The Song of Torah
Thoughts on Simhat Torah 2019
Click here to view as PDF
On the final day of Moshe’s life, he instructed:
“And now, write this song and teach to Bnei Yisrael, put it in their
mouths…” (Devarim 31:19). The Hakhamim interpreted “this song” as a
reference to the entirety of the Torah, understanding it as an obligation for
every individual to write a sefer Torah.[1]
Although there are several poetic passages in the Torah, the vast majority of
its verses tell stories or present laws. Why, then, would Moshe characterize
its general nature as a “song”?
The great neurologist Oliver Sacks suffered
from a loss of hearing in his final years of life. He was intrigued by the way
that he often misheard individual words in sentences that were spoken to him
during those years, and probed the psychological and physiological causes of
his “mishearings.” Sacks noticed that
while he often misheard words, he seldom misheard music. The notes, melodies
and phrasings remained as clear and rich to him then as they had been all his
life. He explained that whereas speech is “open, inventive and improvised” and
thus vulnerable to mishearing, playing and hearing music engages the procedural
memory and emotional centers of one’s brain, thus minimizing the risk of
mishearing.[2]
By referring to the Torah as a “song,” Moshe
was perhaps teaching that its messages must be perceived in a realm that lies
beyond our intellect – the realm of emotion. Consider, for example, a particular
description of the 19th Century German philosopher Friedrich
Nietzsche: “For Nietzsche,
thinking was an act of extreme emotional intensity. He thought the way others
feel.”[3]
Transcending their mundane existence as cerebral data-pieces, Moshe likewise
commanded that the words of Torah be “put in our mouths,” and perceived as part
of an everlasting and developing experience. An experience enriched by
feeling – a “song” – resonates further than a lesson computed by the mind.
R. Joseph B.
Soloveitchik often spoke about his “child-like” mindset while engaging in talmud
Torah. “The adult is too clever,” he declared, “Utility is his guiding
light. The experience of God is unavailable to those approaching it with a
businesslike attitude.” He suggested that only the child – or an individual
possessing a childlike emotional disposition – can appropriately engage the
words of God. Adults depend upon their intellect to problem-solve. Children
keep their eyes and hearts wide open. “The adult is not capable of the
all-embracing and all-penetrating outpouring of the soul,” he wrote, “The most
sublime crown we can give a great man sparkles with the gems of childhood.”[4]
Am Yisrael
has long dedicated itself on Shavuot to the intense study of the words and
concepts of the Torah with the custom of all-night learning. Our minds are
sharpened and thoughts cleansed by the Torah’s teachings on the holiday of
Shavuot. Simhat Torah represents an alternate vehicle of connection. We sing
and dance with the Torah, tapping into the joys of childhood, as we allow the
“song of Torah” to penetrate our hearts and souls.
[1] Sanhedrin 21b.
[2] Oliver Sacks, The River of Consciousness (New York, NY,
2017), pg. 126.
[3] Rüdiger Safranski, Nietzsche:
A Philosophical Biography (New York, NY, 2002), pg. 181.
[4] R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Divrei Hagut
VeHa’arakhah (Jerusalem, IS, 1982), pg. 57-98 See, as well, his “BeSod
HaYahid VeHaYahad (Jerusalem, IS, 1976), pg. 209.