Ki Tavo: Perseverance

A woman wearing a blue hat and glasses smiles warmly.

       This week’s Torah portion is called, Ki Tavo- when you arrive.  The Israelites stand poised to enter the promised land.  They are about to arrive at the destination towards which they have been traveling for 40 years. But, life doesn’t stop there.  The text continues with guidance on how to enjoy the blessing of the land, and what will happen if they lose touch with their essential values.

It sounds as though the Torah is promising us a destination. When you get there, when you finally arrive, when you have accomplished what you have been working toward.  Yet, when I read it, it sounds so final.  I’m not sure it is the wisest or healthiest thing to feel that our journey is totally complete.

I’m not sure any of us ever really arrives.

We spend so much of our lives thinking about arrival. When I finish this project. When I retire. When the kids are grown. When I lose the weight. When I finally have enough money. When I get through this difficult period. When things settle down.  Or, as we like to say in the rabbi/cantor world- “After the holidays. . . ” And then, somehow, we discover that there is always another destination.

Ki Tavo teaches us something important: life is not primarily about arriving. It is about the journey — and about knowing how to live while we are on it. The Torah portion begins with the Israelites bringing their first fruits to the Temple. And what are they told to do when they arrive? They are told to stop and give thanks.The first fruits are not merely an agricultural offering. They represent the recognition that we did not get here entirely by ourselves. We worked. We planted. We harvested. We persevered. But we also received blessings along the way.

And that is a wonderful lesson for the month of Elul, as we look toward the High Holy Days. We naturally spend this time looking ahead. What do I want to change? What do I want to accomplish? What kind of person do I want to become in the coming year?

Those are good questions. But perhaps we should also ask: What have I already been given? Where have I already come from? What blessings have I failed to notice because I was too busy trying to get somewhere else?

There is a tension here. We are supposed to keep moving. Life changes. The world changes. We change. If we stop learning, stop growing, stop adapting, we can easily find ourselves left behind. The Jewish tradition has always valued perseverance. Rabbi Tarfon famously said: “It is not your task to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” We cannot finish everything. We cannot solve every problem. We cannot accomplish every dream. But neither should we give up.

The danger, however, is that perseverance can become a treadmill.  We can become so obsessed with productivity that we forget to live. There is always another email, another meeting, another responsibility, another goal. We can become frenetic, convinced that there is never enough time and that we are never doing enough.

And that is why Shabbat is not optional.  Rest is part of the Jewish understanding of a healthy life. The Torah does not say that we are valuable because of how much we accomplish. Every week, Shabbat reminds us: Stop. Breathe. Put down your work. Eat with people you love. Pray. Laugh. Waste some time. T. S. Eliot wrote, “The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” We need both sides of this wisdom: Be productive — but do not confuse productivity with purpose. Keep going — but do not forget to enjoy where you are.

Ki Tavo also contains one of the Torah’s greatest collections of blessings and curses. A small number of blessings and a large number of curse. Life, the Torah acknowledges, is not a straight line upward. There will be blessings. There will be setbacks. There will be moments when we wonder whether all our effort is worth it? Growth does not mean arriving at some perfect version of ourselves. Growth means evolving.  And perhaps that is what a growth mindset means in Jewish terms: I am not finished. I can still learn. I can still change. I can still become wiser, kinder, more patient, more generous, more courageous.

Maimonides teaches that the obligation to study Torah continues throughout our lives. We do not graduate from learning. There is no point at which Judaism says, “You know enough. You are done.” Think about Simchat Torah. We reach the very end of the Torah. We read the final words of Deuteronomy — and immediately begin Genesis again. We finish- and we start over.

Moses himself embodies this perspective.   He stood on the mountain and looked toward the Promised Land. He could see where his people were going, even though he knew he would never arrive there himself. Yet he continued to lead, teach, encourage and prepare them. He understood something profound- the destination does not have to be ours in order for the journey to have meaning.

So here we are, halfway through Elul.  A new year is approaching. We will ask ourselves what needs to change, what needs to be repaired, what kind of person we want to become. Let us also pause and acknowledge how far we have already come. Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek — “Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.” We say those words when we complete a book of Torah. And then, immediately, we begin another book.

We celebrate where we have gotten — and then we look forward. That may be the deepest message of Ki Tavo: There is no final arrival. There is only the next step. So this year, let’s keep moving. Let’s continue learning and growing. Let’s persevere.  And, let’s also stop along the way. Give thanks for the harvest we have already gathered. Notice the people walking beside us. Take a Shabbat. Enjoy some “wasted” time. Celebrate how far we have come.

And then, with gratitude for the past and hope for the future, we can take the next step.  Because we never really get there. The goal is to become the person we are capable of becoming — one step, one blessing, one day at a time.