Timeless Torah

Who says I can’t sing? Maybe it doesn’t sound too pretty and sometimes I sing off key, but I sure make up for it in volume. Then again, perhaps that’s the problem. I’m just too loud. But I have a sneaking suspicion that that’s 3not the issue.

The first indication that Chazzanus was not my calling in life came from Rabbi Feder. A diminutive man, he had taught most of the boys in our neighborhood their Bar Mitzvah lessons. Lucky for him my older brother Shaya had a natural ear and voice to match. Unlucky for me, as it only further emphasized my musical shortcomings.

Nonetheless, on the day of entrance into Jewish adulthood I proudly took to the Bimah and belted out my Torah reading for all to hear. Since then I haven’t stopped. Indeed, I’ve amassed quite a repertoire; including Oleinu for my congregation, Aishes Chayil for my wife, and The Little Bird Is Calling for my friends. What can I say, I’m an equal opportunity torturer.

This week’s Biblical episode is replete with song. Indeed it contains the most famous of all songs in Jewish history, the Ohz Yashir, and is performed by the world’s largest choir ever assembled. Logic dictates that among the three million men, women and children singers there were a few tone deaf individuals. Yet were they excluded? Definitely not. Even more amazing was their choice of soloist, Moses the stutterer!

Their song of praise ushered in a new era; a life free from human slavery and replaced by G-dly service. Their actions that day stand in stark contrast to one of our people’s most righteous individuals, King Hezekiah.

In the 8th century B.C.E. this Jewish monarch created a climate of religious devotion, observance and knowledge unparalleled by any other King of Israel. The Talmud records that the Sages had, “searched from Dan to Be’er Sheva and had not found a single ignoramus; and from the city of Givat to Antiphras they could not locate any child (emphasis mine) who wasn’t an expert in the laws of purity and impurity.”

These accomplishments by Hezekiah warranted him being appointed the Moshiach, while Sancheriv, ruler of ancient Babylon, was to be cast in the role of Gog and Magog. However, that was not to be the final outcome. As the Talmud relates, the Attribute of Divine Justice declared to the Master of the Universe, “King David had offered songs and praises to you and You did not make him the Moshiach. Will you then favor Hezekiah for whom You have performed so many miracles - but did not sing to You?”

Why didn’t the monarch give G-d His due praise? He assumed that, “Torah She-ani Loimed K’var M’Chaperes Al Hashira”; his toil in the chambers of the law and learning adequately substituted for hosannas and hallelujahs. But redemption requires song and Hezekiah was remiss. Thus we not only lost out on another melody, we missed the opportunity to hear the lead song of the hit parade that would have had Moshiach in the first float.

And so I continue to sing. Not because I have pretensions of being someone who I am not. I sing because I wish to accompany the music found in the words of Torah and prayer. I wish to join the chirping birds, rustling leaves and crashing waves in their grandiose ballad that honors their Creator. I sing because even Moshiach should have backup harmony.