Ha’azinu 

by Lael Sacho Tanzer

Ha’azinu is a weighty parasha, not only for being the penultimate, but also for containing Moshe’s last words to Bnei Yisrael before his death. This final address is surprisingly cryptic, and reads more like a melodic, repetitive summary of Israel’s journey than a resounding closing statement from the man who achieved so much. Moshe stands so definitively as a leader rooted in humility, empathy, and compassion– what does his final speech convey?

Actually, calling it a ‘speech’ is not quite accurate. The previous parasha describes these verses as a שירה, a song or poem. With their sparse, rhythmic, and repetitive language, they embody the more lyrical style that the Tanach sometimes slips into. For example, this is Moshe’s first powerful statement in Deuteronomy 32:2 after gathering everyone’s attention:

יַעֲרֹ֤ף כַּמָּטָר֙ לִקְחִ֔י    תִּזַּ֥ל כַּטַּ֖ל אִמְרָתִ֑י כִּשְׂעִירִ֣ם עֲלֵי־דֶ֔שֶׁא    וְכִרְבִיבִ֖ים עֲלֵי־עֵֽשֶׂב׃

May my discourse come down as the rain

My speech distill as the dew

Like showers on young growth

Like droplets on the grass

Here, poetic language and repetition emphasize the idea of Moshe’s words falling like rain. It’s a stunning image, and it’s also positioned foremost as the ‘thesis statement’ of his entire address. There are other beautiful and powerful metaphors scattered throughout this parasha —God as the Rock, the devoted father, and the protective eagle to name a few— all of which depict Israel’s journey vividly with dynamic imagery. Why is the image of his words as rain paramount? 

Truthfully, the story illustrated by these other metaphors is not an altogether happy one. This parasha is rife with sin and punishment, as Moshe describes Bnei Yisrael abandoning their ideals, along with God’s subsequent vengeance. A good amount of blood and treachery is present.

Moreover, the cyclicality that permeates this parasha’s phrasing and structure lends these verses a cynical, ominous quality– it’s a bit ambiguous whether Moshe is referring to Israel’s past sins, or their future ones in the Tanach’s upcoming books. Either way, it’s not such a cheerful note to end on, with overt Godly threats and covert implications that sin is inevitable. Crucially, Moshe himself stands on the cusp of dying before entering the land due to his own sin of hitting the rock.

I would suggest that the image of the rain comes to highlight the potential for growth within this reality. Rashi connects it to Torah and life, commenting on the above verse:

The Torah which I gave to Israel is life to the world as the rain which is life to the world (cf. Sifrei Devarim 306:17) — even as the heavens drop down dew and rain.

The Torah gives us potential for new life, just as rain brings forth new vegetation. While God’s potential wrath is a blazing fire (Deuteronomy 32:22), the rain of this wisdom can douse it. After all, even though death and wrongdoing are cyclical, with our modern knowledge of the water cycle, we understand that so is the rain. What Rashi underlines here is the verse’s evocation of strong feelings about the Torah’s potential for vitality and inspiration. 

Rabbi Sacks similarly interprets this parasha as something meant to be emotionally resonant. Paraphrasing from his 2018 Ha’azinu recording, he characterizes Moshe’s last words as a hymn drawn from the emotional arc of Bnei Yisrael’s journey rather than the factual. It typifies the tenet of Judaism that calls for emotional intelligence not just legal knowledge, the agagadic tradition as well as the halachic.

And what does this mean for Moshe’s final message? He chooses to conclude not with a joyful celebration of his accomplishments, but an evocative call to look inward and remember our potential wrongdoings. We live in an imperfect world. Bnei Yisrael’s past and future are riddled with mistakes, and even Moshe, our great role model, is flawed. Moshe’s final statement to his people isn’t to brush over any of this, but to inspire them to close the gap between what the world is and what the Torah teaches us it could be.

In the Ha’azinu episode of the Parasha in Progress podcast, Rabbi Dov Linzer explains that “the image of the rain is something that comes from the heaven but falls to the ground”. This is the note that Moshe leaves us on, with an emphasis on a Torah grounded in the reality of the world around us, and an unwillingness to turn away from hard truths. Instead, we face them head-on to work towards growth.

Lael Sacho-Tanzer is a student in the dual degree program between Tel Aviv University and Columbia University, majoring in Psychology and English Literature. She has a passion for social justice and storytelling, and loves how a good chat with someone always challenges her assumptions. In her free time, you can find her playing piano, doing creative writing, or cramming as much reading as she can into each Shabbat.