Rav Kook Torah

Devarim: Moses Speaks!

2026-07-12T01:46:59Z

The Merchant and the King

The Book of Deuteronomy is essentially a collection of Moses’ farewell speeches, delivered to the Jewish people as they prepared to enter the Land of Israel. The eloquence, passion, and cadence of Moses’ discourses are breathtaking. One can only wonder: is this the same man who claimed to be “heavy of mouth and heavy of tongue” (Ex. 4:10)?

The Sages were aware of this anomaly. The Midrash (Devarim Rabbah 1:7) offers the following parable to explain how eloquence is a relative matter:

This is like a man selling purple cloth, who announced, ‘Purple cloth for sale!’
Hearing his voice, the king peeked out and called the merchant over.
‘What are you selling?’ asked the king.
‘Nothing, Your Highness.'
‘But before I heard you call out, ‘Purple cloth for sale,’ and now you say, ‘Nothing.’ What changed?'
‘Oh no!’ exclaimed the merchant. ‘I am selling purple cloth. But by your standards, it is nothing.’

The same idea, the Midrash concludes, may be applied to Moses and his speaking abilities. When standing before God, Creator of the faculty of speech, Moses announced, “I am not a man of words” (Ex. 4:10). But when it came to speaking to the Jewish people, the Torah records: “These are the words that Moses spoke.”

Who May Be a Prophet?

In order to properly understand Moses’ claim that he possessed inferior oratory skills, we need to examine a basic question regarding the nature of prophets and prophecy.

In the Mishneh Torah, Maimonides describes the prerequisite character traits and intellectual qualifications to be a prophet. He then writes:

One who has perfected himself in all of these traits and is in perfect health when he enters the pardeis [i.e., when he studies esoteric wisdom] and is drawn to those lofty and abstract matters... immediately the prophetic spirit will come to him. (Yesodei HaTorah 7:2)

This description seems to indicate that prophecy is purely a function of one’s moral and spiritual preparation. Once one has attained the necessary spiritual level, he automatically merits prophecy.

However, Maimonides later writes that those who strive to attain prophecy are called “the sons of prophets” (see 2 Kings 2:15). Despite their intense efforts, they are still not full-fledged prophets. “Even though they direct their minds, it is possible that the Shechinah will inspire them, and it is possible that it will not” (ibid. 7:5). This statement indicates that attaining prophecy is not dependent only upon one’s initiative and efforts. Even those who have attained the appropriate spiritual level are not assured that they will receive prophecy.

How can we reconcile these two seemingly contradictory statements?

Natural or Supernatural?

Many aspects of the spiritual realm parallel the physical world. We find that the physical world is largely governed by set laws of nature and physics. Only on occasion does Divine providence intervene in the rule of nature. The same holds true for the hidden resources of the soul. There are set, general rules that govern their functions. But there are also situations that go beyond the natural faculties of the soul.

We may thus rephrase our question as follows: is prophecy a naturally occurring spiritual talent for those who prepare themselves appropriately? Or does it fall under the category of the supernatural, dependent upon God’s will at that time, when He chooses to perfect the world by way of prophetic message?

Ruach HaKodesh and Nevu'ah

To resolve this dilemma, we must distinguish between two types of prophecy. The first is an inner revelation in one’s thoughts, called ruach hakodesh. This is naturally attained Divine knowledge, a result of the soul’s nobility and its focus on lofty matters. This level of prophecy is a natural talent that God established within the soul.

There is, however, a second type of prophecy. This is nevu'ah, from the word niv, meaning ‘expression’ or ‘utterance.’ Nevu'ah is the consummation of the prophetic experience; prophecy goes beyond thought and is concretized in letters and words. This form of prophecy is not a natural faculty of the soul. It reflects a miraculous connection between the physical and spiritual realms, a supernatural phenomenon of Divine Will commanding the prophet to relay a specific message to the world.

We may now resolve the apparent contradiction in Maimonides’ writings. When he wrote that the prophet will automatically attain prophecy, Maimonides was referring to the prophetic insight of ruach hakodesh. From his description, it is clear that he is speaking about a prophecy experienced mentally:

His thoughts are constantly attuned to the holy. They are bound under God’s Throne, to grasp those holy and pure images, perceiving God’s wisdom [in all aspects of creation].

When, on the other hand, Maimonides spoke of nevu'ah, he wrote that even though the prophet directs his mind, he will not necessarily merit prophetic communion with God. This form of prophecy is dependent upon God’s Will, and not on the soul’s natural talents.

Moses’ Mistake

Now we can better understand Moses’ claim that he was not “a man of words.” Moses was certainly aware of his stature as a prophet. Maimonides teaches that a prophet “recognizes that he is no longer as he once was; but rather that he has been elevated above the level of other wise individuals.” Moses was aware of his spiritual level — but only as one worthy of ruach hakodesh, of a prophetic mental state. He assumed that the greater level of nevu'ah would be similarly recognizable by one who merited it. Since Moses did not sense this level of prophecy within himself, he declared that he was not a “man of words” — i.e., one meriting prophecy expressed in speech.

Moses’ reasoning, however, was flawed. The inner prophecy of thought is a natural talent of the soul and the result of the prophet’s spiritual efforts; thus the prophet is aware that he merits ruach hakodesh. The external prophecy of nevu'ah, on the other hand, depends on God’s Will, according to the dictates of Divine providence at that time. The first level is comparable to the laws of nature in the world, while the second is like supernatural miracles performed on special occasions. Thus nevu'ah does not reflect the inner qualities of the prophet’s soul.

God’s response to Moses is now clearer. “Who gave man a mouth? ... Who made him blind? Was it not I, the Lord?” (Ex. 4:11) The world has two sides, the natural and the supernatural. The mouth is part of the natural realm, whereas blindness is a special condition. Both, God told Moses, come from Me. Just as you attained the natural level of ruach hakodesh, so too, it is My will that you will be granted the supernatural level of nevu'ah.

The Prophetic Nature of Devarim

One final question: why is it that the Midrash only clarifies Moses’ oratorical skills in the book of Deuteronomy? The answer to this question is to be found in the difference between the prophetic nature of Deuteronomy as opposed to the other books of Moses.

Regular nevu'ah occurs in this fashion: the prophet would first hear God’s message, then the Divine Spirit would come over him, and he would relate what he had heard. The prophecy of Moses, however, was totally different. The Shechinah would “speak through his throat,” even as he spoke to the people. Moses was merely a mouthpiece for the Divine Presence.

As a result, the first four books of the Pentateuch do not demonstrate Moses’ oratory talents. The book of Deuteronomy, on the other hand, is a reflection of Moses’ talents in the same way that the prophetic books of other prophets reflect their individual style of speech.

Were it not for Deuteronomy, we could have taken Moses’ claim at face value and understood that he was literally “heavy of mouth and heavy of tongue.” But after reading the eloquent discourses of sefer Devarim, we realize that Moses was in fact referring to his prophetic abilities. Moses meant that he was unworthy of verbal nevu'ah. With regard to ordinary speech, however, Moses was only “heavy of mouth” in comparison to the King of the universe.

(Sapphire from the Land of Israel. Adapted from Otzarot HaRe’iyah vol. II, pp. 131-133 (originally published in Itur Sofrim))

Illustration image: ‘Study for the figure of Moses’ (Jacob de Wit, 1730–37)

Devarim: Elucidating the Torah

2026-07-12T01:46:59Z

On the east bank of the Jordan, in the land of Moab, Moses began to elucidate (be'er) this Torah. (Deut. 1:5)

Moses and Ezra

The fifth book of the Torah differs from the first four books. Deuteronomy is not a verbatim transmission of God’s word, but a prophetic work, on par with the writings of other prophets. The final book of the Torah is called Mishneh Torah (Deut. 17:18), for it is Moses’ review and elucidation of the Torah.

A second surge of Torah exegesis took place in the time of Ezra:

They read in the book of God’s Torah, clarified (meforash); and they gave the sense, and explained the reading to them (Nehemiah 8:8).

Both Moses and Ezra explained and elucidated the Torah. Their methods of interpretation, however, differed. Moses’ elucidation was a biur, while Ezra’s was a perush. What is the difference between these two methods?

Two Methods of Elucidation

From the time of Moses until Ezra, the Torah was clarified through the method of biur. This word comes from the root be'er, meaning a well of water. Like a well, the creative outpouring of learning flowed “like an overflowing spring and a river that never dries up” (Avot 6:1). This form of analysis begins by deducing the underlying principles; then, all of the details may be derived from these fundamental principles, the hidden foundations of the Torah.

Ezra, however, recognized that the innovative biur, with its subtle methods of induction and deduction, was not suitable for all periods. In a time of exile, this approach could prove to be dangerous. Political instability and social upheaval diminish the quality of scholarship and peace of mind, thus weakening the nation’s spiritual and intellectual capabilities. In such difficult conditions, the method of biur could be misused, leading to a subversion of the Torah’s true aims.

Therefore, Ezra promoted the approach of perush. This is an empirical method of analyzing a subject by examining all of its details. Details are compared to one another, without attempting to determine the underlying principles. The word perush comes from the root paras, “to spread forth” (see Isaiah 25:11). This form of analysis is less risky, since it limits itself to the material at hand.

Letterforms for the Times

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 21b) states that Ezra was a scholar of such stature that the Torah could have been given to Israel through him. While this did not occur, Ezra nonetheless made a revolutionary change in the Torah, by switching the writing in the Torah from the ancient Hebrew script to the square Assyrian script. Why did Ezra make this change in the letterforms?

The two scripts reflect different needs of the nation. During the First Temple period, there was little interaction with other nations, and the Torah did not openly influence the world. The Jewish people dwelled in their own land, and the kohanim and the Levites were available to inspect the text of the Torah scrolls and guard them from any scribal errors.

When Moses gave the Torah to the Jewish people, a clear script not given to mistakes in transmission was not of paramount importance. The problem of similar-looking letterforms in the ancient Hebrew script was not an issue during the relatively stable era of the First Temple period.

Ezra lived at the beginning of the Second Temple period. This era was essentially a time for the Jewish people to prepare themselves for the long and difficult exile that would follow. Retaining the difficult ancient letterforms would have made it impossible to safeguard the accuracy of the Torah’s text. In the centuries of exile and wanderings from country to country, the original Hebrew script would have lead to many mistakes and uncertainties. The sages of the beginning of the Second Temple period, aware of the long exile to come, worked to fortify the spiritual state of the people, despite the future loss of the nation’s unifying institutions, such as the Temple, the Sanhedrin, and the monarchy. One of the initiatives of that era was Ezra’s decision to switch the script to the clear Assyrian script, whose unambiguous letters would prevent confusing similar letters in the text of the Torah.

A Fence for the Torah

The sages of that era made other preparations for the future exile, establishing protective decrees to guard the Torah’s laws. "Make a fence for the Torah” (Avot 1:1) was the motto of the Great Assembly.

Even though these changes came about due to the needs of the hour, the Jewish people recognized the value and benefits of these decrees. As the nation adopted these holy paths, pure deeds and worthy customs, a net of eternal love spread over them, and they acquired a permanent place in the spiritual life of the nation.

(Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 291-293. Adapted from the Introduction to Ein Eyah vol. I, pp. 14-17)

Devarim: The Book that Moses Wrote

2026-07-12T01:46:59Z

Mipi Atzmo

Already from its opening sentence, we see that the final book of the Pentateuch is different from the first four. Instead of the usual introductory statement, “God spoke to Moses, saying,” we read:

These are the words that Moses spoke to all of Israel on the far side of the Jordan River ... (Deut. 1:1)

Unlike the other four books, Deuteronomy is largely a record of speeches that Moses delivered to the people before his death. The Talmud (Megillah 31b) confirms that the prophetic nature of this book is qualitatively different than the others. While the other books of the Torah are a direct transmission of God’s word, Moses said Deuteronomy mipi atzmo — "on his own.”

However, we cannot take this statement — that Deuteronomy consists of Moses’ own words — at face value. Moses could not have literally composed this book on his own, for the Sages taught that a prophet is not allowed to say in God’s name what he did not hear from God (Shabbat 104a). So what does it mean that Moses wrote Deuteronomy mipi atzmo? In what way does this book differ from the previous four books of the Pentateuch?

Tadir versus Mekudash

The distinction between different levels of prophecy may be clarified by examining a Talmudic discussion in Zevachim 90b. The Talmud asks the following question: if we have before us two activities, one of which is holier (mekudash), but the second is more prevalent (tadir), which one should we perform first? The Sages concluded that the more prevalent activity takes precedence over the holier one, and should be discharged first.

One might infer from this ruling that the quality of prevalence is more important, and for this reason the more common activity is performed first. In fact, the exact opposite is true. If something is rare, this indicates that it belongs to a very high level of holiness — so high, in fact, that our limited world does not merit benefiting from this exceptional holiness on a permanent basis. Why then does the more common event take precedence? This is in recognition that we live in an imperfect world. We are naturally more receptive to and influenced by a lesser, more sustainable sanctity. In the future, however, the higher, transitory holiness will come first.

The First and Second Luchot

This distinction between mekudash and tadir illustrates the difference between the first and second set of luchot (tablets) that Moses brought down from Mount Sinai. The first tablets were holier, a reflection of the singular unity of the Jewish people at that point in history. As the Midrash comments on Exodus 19:2, “The people encamped — as one person, with one heart — opposite the mountain” (Mechilta; Rashi ad loc).

After the sin of the Golden Calf, however, the Jewish people no longer deserved the special holiness of the first tablets. Tragically, the first luchot had to be broken; otherwise, the Jewish people would have warranted destruction. With the holy tablets shattered, the special unity of Israel also departed. This unity was later partially restored with the second covenant that they accepted upon themselves while encamped across the Jordan River on the plains of Moab. (The Hebrew name for this location, Arvot Moav, comes from the word 'arvut,' meaning mutual responsibility.)

The exceptional holiness of the first tablets, and the special unity of the people at Mount Sinai, were simply too holy to maintain over time. They were replaced by less holy but more attainable substitutes — the second set of tablets, and the covenant at Arvot Moav.

Moses and the Other Prophets

After the sin of the Golden Calf, God offered to rebuild the Jewish people solely from Moses. Moses was unsullied by the sin of the Golden Calf; he still belonged to the transient realm of elevated holiness. Nonetheless, Moses rejected God’s offer. He decided to include himself within the constant holiness of Israel. This is the meaning of the Talmudic statement that Moses wrote Deuteronomy “on his own.” On his own accord, Moses decided to join the spiritual level of the Jewish people, and help prepare the people for the more sustainable holiness through the renewed covenant of Arvot Moav.

Moses consciously limited the prophetic level of Deuteronomy so that it would correspond to that of other prophets. He withdrew from his unique prophetic status, a state where “No other prophet arose in Israel like Moses” (Deut. 34:10). With the book of Deuteronomy, he initiated the lower but more constant form of prophecy that would suit future generations. He led the way for the other prophets, and foretold that “God will establish for you a prophet from your midst like me” (Deut. 18:15).

In the future, however, the first set of tablets, which now appear to be broken, will be restored. The Jewish people will be ready for a higher, loftier holiness, and the mekudash will take precedent over the tadir. For this reason, the Holy Ark held both sets of tablets; each set was kept for its appropriate time.

(Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 287-290. Adapted from Shemuot HaRe’iyah, Devarim 1929)

Illustration image: ‘Moses with the Tablets of the Law’ (Rembrandt, 1659)

Devarim: Right versus Might

2026-07-12T01:46:59Z

We turned and went up towards Bashan, and Og, king of Bashan, and his people came out to fight against us at Edrei. God told me: ‘Do not fear him. I will place him and all his people and his land in your hands.’ (Deut. 3:1-3)

The Battle Against Og

Moses gave a terse account of the battle against the fearful giant, King Og, and his people. The Midrash (Berakhot 54b), however, elaborated greatly upon this amazing event:

Og said to himself, ‘How large is the encampment of Israel? Three Persian miles? I will grab a mountain three miles wide, throw it on them and kill them!’ So Og took a mountain three miles wide, and lifted it over his head in order to throw it.
But God brought ants. They ate a hole in the mountain, and the rock crashed down on Og’s neck. Og tried to lift it up, but his teeth stuck out in both directions and prevented the rock from lifting over his head.
Now, Moses was ten cubits [15 feet] tall. He took a hammer ten cubits long, jumped up ten cubits and swung the hammer at Og’s ankles, killing him.

Nice story. But what does it mean? What message were the Sages trying to tell us?

Brute Force versus Spiritual Greatness

The battle between Og and Moses is a metaphor for the struggle between the physical and spiritual realms. Og the giant viewed everything in terms of brute force and power. He was enraged seeing a small, weak people — the Israelites — take on and defeat the Midianites and the Amorites. Og decided he would demonstrate that spiritual power cannot compete against physical strength. He would use the ultimate symbol of brute force — a massive, inanimate mountain — to bury the Jews and all of their pretensions!

The giant lifted the mountain up, over his head. This indicated that the huge rock, as a symbol of brute power, was his crown, his glory, his ultimate value.

“But God brought ants that ate a hole in the mountain.” Significantly, Og’s downfall was not by means of an even greater physical force. Og’s faith in power and might was conclusively shattered by his defeat at the hands of the smallest and most fragile of creatures, the lowly ant.

Overgrown Teeth

At this point, the heavy rock weighed down heavily on Og’s shoulders. He began to realize that his trust in physical force was misplaced. His crown had become an oppressive burden. However, it was too late to escape. His teeth, symbolizing his aggressiveness and lust, had grown outwards. His traits of violence and rapacity, like his reliance on brute force, had become an integral part of his life and personality, at the expense of spiritual inclinations.

Such is the fate of an individual — or a people — addicted to the drug of physical force, living by the power of the fist. In hindsight, such a life of aggression will be a burden and a source of bitter discontent. Old and weak, even if he should now desire
to change his ways to a more peaceful existence, he will not succeed. His teeth overgrown, his basic nature has been usurped by the lifelong habits of aggression and savage greed.

(Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 294-296. Adapted from Ein Eyah vol. II, pp. 248-249)

Illustration image: ‘The Colossus’ (Francisco de Goya, 1808-1828)

Devarim: Di Zahav - Too Much Gold

2026-07-12T01:46:59Z

What is Di Zahav?

Deuteronomy opens with a detailed description of the location where Moses delivered his final speeches:

These are the words that Moses spoke to all of Israel on the east bank of the Jordan River... near Paran, Tofel, Lavan, Chazeroth, and Di Zahav. (Deut. 1:1)

Why do we need to know the precise location of Moses’ orations? The Sages explained that each of these names held a special meaning — and a veiled rebuke — for those listening. ‘Di Zahav,’ for example, was a reminder of the Sin of the Golden Calf (zahav meaning ‘gold').

According to one opinion, however, the name Di Zahav also indicated a justification for the behavior of the Jewish people:

What is Di Zahav? This is what Moses told God: ‘Master of the World! It is because of all the silver and gold that You showered upon the Israelites — until they said, Dai! [Enough!] — that is what caused them to make the Golden Calf.'^[1] (Berakhot 32a)

Do you know anyone who had enough money and refused to accept more?

The Human Drive For More

The basis of serving God is our natural drive to continually advance and achieve. The goal of life is to be close to God, Whose perfection is boundless. Thus we must continually perfect ourselves in order to draw near to God. Of course, this aspiration can never be fully attained. We are never able to say, “Enough! I have achieved everything.” Each accomplishment makes us aware of even greater challenges and goals.

In order to lead us on this path of constant growth, God planted within the human soul the incessant drive to always seek more. As Solomon noted: “The soul will never be sated” (Ecc. 6:7). This drive also compels us regarding material acquisitions: “One who loves silver never has his fill of silver” (Ecc. 5:9). Our drive for more is an indication that we can only attain our true goals through continual spiritual growth.

Limited Aspirations

When the Israelites sojourned in the wilderness, all of their physical needs were taken care of. They drew water from the well of Miriam, manna rained down from the sky, and their clothes never wore out. In this situation, they had little to gain by seeking additional possessions and wealth. It would just be more to carry. The soul’s natural drive was artificially suppressed, so that when the Israelites were showered with more silver and gold than they could ever need, their response was, ‘Enough!’

This was Moses’ defense for the Jewish people. Their unique existence in the wilderness, where all their needs were miraculously provided, stifled their soul’s natural desire for more. Dependent upon gifts from Heaven, lacking challenges and goals, they became satisfied and indolent. And this impacted their spiritual aspirations.

Since their natural drive to advance was weakened, the Israelites turned to more easily attainable spiritual goals. And this is what led them to the Sin of the Golden Calf.

What is the root of idolatry? It is the psychological desire to cleave to something closer to us, something tangible and finite. It is the choice not to seek out the infinite and boundless, but to take the easier route, to be content worshipping a force which is easy to identify and relate to.

This aberrant form of spirituality suited a people with limited aspirations. This is what Moses told God: “Di Zahav — it is because of all the silver and gold that You showered upon the Israelites, until they said, ‘Enough!’ — that is what caused them to lower their sights and worship the Golden Calf.”

(Sapphire from the Land of Israel. Adapted from Ein Eyah vol. I, pp. 140-141)

The Midrash interprets the name Di Zahav as "dai zahav” — “enough gold.” ↩︎