This week I unfurled our sacred scroll and revealed these words:
When the king is seated on his royal throne, he shall have a copy of this Torah written for him…. Let it remain with him and let him read it all his life, so that he may learn to revere the Lord his God, to observe faithfully every word of this Torah... Thus, he will not act arrogantly toward his fellows or deviate from the instruction to the right or left… (Deuteronomy 17)When Saul is anointed the first king of Israel, God acquiesces to the people’s desire to be like all other nations. Appointing earthly rulers is a compromise. The Torah reminds us. Rulers must always remember that they serve a higher authority, that they serve the rules and laws given to prior generations.
Even the greatest king of Israel, David, is no greater than God’s Torah. Let’s take but one example. First, he commits adultery with Bathsheba. Then David has her husband, and loyal soldier, Uriah murdered. The prophet Nathan rebukes the king, reminding him that he is not above the law. Murder and adultery are forbidden for everyone—even the king.
In many other cultures, both then and now, such rebuke would be dismissed. And the prophet, or protester, would be jailed or killed. And herein lies David’s uniqueness, and perhaps his greatness. He repents. He admits his error. He atones for his sin. David bows to the law.
The Torah is our ruler. The law is our king.
Often when I take our students into the sanctuary, I open the Ark to show them our beautiful Torah scrolls. We discuss the colored robes that cover the scrolls. I point out the shiny silver crowns and breastplates that adorn them. I ask the students, “Who else wears a crown?” And they respond, “A king or a queen.” “Exactly,” I say.
Then I remind them that this is exactly Judaism’s most important teaching. We look up to the Torah as one might look up to a queen or king. The chapters and verses in these scrolls, the words inscribed by centuries of meaning, are what we worship.
One might think that such veneration, especially that of an ancient calligraphed scroll, means we live in the past. We do not. We live in the present but are nurtured by ancient words.
Yesterday’s words inform tomorrow’s promise.
Rabbi Ben Bag Bag said: “Turn it over, and again turn it over, for all is contained therein. And look into it; and become gray and old therein. And do not move away from it, for you have no better portion than it.”
To discover meaning all we have to do is to look at these ancient words anew. To recall our sacred task all we need do is unfurl this sacred scroll.
A book is our king. The word is our ruler.