Reading Out Loud Matters
Why do we read the Torah aloud at Shabbat morning services? Why not read it quietly to oneself?
It is because of history. The custom of reading the Torah publicly hearkens back to biblical times.
The Torah reports as Moses’ death nears, he offers the people advice. He instructs Israel’s leaders as follows: “Every seventh year, the year set for remission, at Sukkot, when all Israel comes to appear before the Lord your God in the place that God will choose, you shall read this Torah aloud in the presence of all Israel.” (Deuteronomy 31)
This seven-year cycle was not the weekly ritual we now observe. That practice was instituted by Ezra in the fifth century BCE. After the Jewish people returned to Jerusalem following the Babylonian exile, he believed this was the best way to keep the people together and to remind them of their commitments.
The Torah confirms this reasoning when it proclaims, “They may hear this Torah and so learn to revere the Lord your God and to observe faithfully every word of this Torah.” The practice served to remind the Israelites of God’s word. Ezra did not believe the people would read it on their own, so he insisted that it be read to them.
What does reading the Torah aloud accomplish that reading it quietly cannot achieve?
Perhaps it is the same reason why we read books to young children. I still recall Max’s words in Where the Wild Things Are. “Let the wild rumpus start!” Or, how my child’s mind could relate to the dialogue between the Man with the Yellow Hat and Curious George. “George promised to be good. But it is easy for little monkeys to forget.” Or, how I continue to find inspiration from The Little Engine that Could. “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.” And how I can still hear my father’s voice in my head repeating that mantra as I race up a hill.
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”
Of course, my parents began reading to me because I could not read. But that is how I learned to read. That is also how I fell in love with storytelling. It was because my parents shared their love of books with me. They shared their enthusiasm with the written word by helping to bring it to life.
And so, for thousands of years, we have chanted the words of Torah so that future generations will fall in love with its words and unpack its stories and debate its lessons. When we read out loud and in public, we instantly communicate that these words matter.
Our history continues. The words continue to gain renewed life.