This coming week is the 20th yahrzeit for אמי ומורתי,  my mother and teacher, Phyllis Anne Brower Nevins, פסיה בת יצחק הלוי ורחל ע״ה, may God’s peace be upon her. I would like to dedicate these words of Torah in her memory.

כׇּל יִשְׂרָאֵל יֵשׁ לָהֶם חֵלֶק לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״וְעַמֵּךְ כֻּלָּם צַדִּיקִים לְעוֹלָם יִירְשׁוּ אָרֶץ נֵצֶר מַטָּעַי מַעֲשֵׂה יָדַי לְהִתְפָּאֵר״. 

“All Jews have a portion in the world to come, as it says, “Your people are all righteous; they shall forever inherit the land….(Isaiah 60:21). 

This Mishnah opens the tenth chapter of Mishnah Sanhedrin, known as Perek Chelek. What an optimistic message. All Jews go to heaven! All of us are righteous! Then I suppose we can relax on this Shabbat Shuvah. Apparently, there’s no need to worry–we are all righteous, and every one of us has a ticket to heaven. 

Now, you may ask yourself, is this my religion? If we Jews are such tzadikim, such righteous people, then why on Yom Kippur must we fast and confess that we have sinned, ashamnu, and that we have no good deeds, ein banu ma’asim? Why must we make such abject confessions if this famous Mishnah declares that we are all deemed righteous, and all promised a portion in the world to come?

Let me explain the context. This optimistic Mishnah follows chapters that describe the four forms of capital punishment–the arba mitot beit din: sekilah, sereifa, hereg v’chenek–stoning, burning, decapitating, and strangling. Turns out, Bob Dylan was mistaken–not everyone must get stoned. Some must get burned, beheaded, or strangled. It’s disturbing material, to be sure. The placement of our Mishnah’s reassuring message about all Jews having a place in heaven implies that even the worst of the worst–the murderers, the blasphemers, and all others who are executed–even these Jewish criminals can look forward to a better afterlife, if only they accept their verdict and do teshuvah. And if they can repent and collect their reward, then surely so can we. 

Well, that’s reassuring. But then even within this Mishnah, the optimistic outlook isn’t sustained for long. The rabbis qualify their opening claim that all Jews go to heaven, saying: 

וְאֵלּוּ שֶׁאֵין לָהֶם חֵלֶק לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא: הָאוֹמֵר אֵין תְּחִיַּית הַמֵּתִים מִן הַתּוֹרָה, וְאֵין תּוֹרָה מִן הַשָּׁמַיִם, וְאֶפִּיקוֹרוֹס.

But these [Jews] do not have a portion in the world to come–one who says that the resurrection of the dead is not from the Torah, or that the Torah doesn’t come from heaven, and the apikorus–the heretic. 

And that’s not all. Rabbi Akiva excludes Jews who read apocryphal works and those who practice medicinal sorcery. Abba Shaul adds yet another category, though who pronounce the divine name aloud. None of them gets to claim the portion promised to all Jews in the world to come. I want to focus today only on the first disqualification listed, that Jews who claim that the doctrine of resurrection is not found in the Torah forfeit their portion in the world to come. Why is making such a statement so outrageous in the rabbinic mind, and by the way, where exactly is the doctrine of resurrection found in the Torah? 

We know how important resurrection was in rabbinic theology–every Amidah includes the emphatic statements that God is mechayei metim b’rachamim rabbim, the One who mercifully resurrects the dead, and who keeps faith with those who sleep in the dust, u’mekayeim emunato l’yisheinei afar. Such prominent placement indicates importance, but where does this idea of resurrection come from?

One thing is clear–it is not new to rabbinic theology. During the period of the Second Temple this strange concept was expressed in numerous texts. The book of Daniel concludes in chapter 12:2 with a vision of resurrection which is the source of our expression in the Amidah:

 וְרַבִּים מִיְּשֵׁנֵי אַדְמַת עָפָר יָקִיצוּ אֵלֶּה לְחַיֵּי עוֹלָם וְאֵלֶּה לַחֲרָפוֹת לְדִרְאוֹן עוֹלָם.

And many of the sleepers in the deep dust shall awake–some for everlasting life and some for disgrace and everlasting shame (trans. Robert Alter).

Another ancient source for the belief in resurrection comes from outside of the Bible. Second Maccabees describes the gruesome martyrdom of 7 sons in one family by the Greek king Antiochus IV after the boys refused his dictate that they publicly eat pork. Each son expresses his belief that he will be resurrected and rewarded for his fidelity. Speaking to the King, one replies:

“You accursed fiend, you are depriving us of this present life, but the King of the universe will raise us up to live again forever, because we are dying for his laws.” (II Maccabees 7:9)

So, the idea of resurrection was around, especially in the charged context of political oppression and martyrdom. Nevertheless, the Rabbis want us to believe that it is found in the Torah itself. But where? The Talmud itself struggles to answer this question at Bavli Sanhedrin 90b, asking repeatedly, מִנַּיִין לִתְחִיַּית הַמֵּתִים מִן הַתּוֹרָה, where exactly does this idea of resurrection come from? Five different answers are offered, which tells you that the matter is far from settled. It also seems that the rabbis were insecure about this doctrine, since they claim that various antagonists, from the Sadducees to the Romans, confront them with their lack of evidence for this doctrine. Here is an excerpt: 

שָׁאֲלוּ צַדּוּקִים אֶת רַבָּן גַּמְלִיאֵל: מִנַּיִין שֶׁהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מְחַיֶּיה מֵתִים? אָמַר לָהֶם: מִן הַתּוֹרָה, וּמִן הַנְּבִיאִים, וּמִן הַכְּתוּבִים. וְלֹא קִיבְּלוּ מִמֶּנּוּ. מִן הַתּוֹרָה, דִּכְתִיב: ״וַיֹּאמֶר ה׳ אֶל מֹשֶׁה הִנְּךָ שֹׁכֵב עִם אֲבֹתֶיךָ וְקָם״. 

The Sadducees questioned Rabban Gamliel–Where is your proof that the Holy One resurrects the dead? He replied, from the Torah, from the prophets, and from the writings, but they were not convinced. From the Torah, for it is written, “The Lord said to Moses, you shall lie with your ancestors and rise.”

A good proof, and from this week’s parashah no less. Moses will lie down dead, and then he will rise once more, just like Hannah said in her poem read on Rosh HaShanah, ה׳ ממית ומחיה, מוריד שאול ויעל, “God kills and resurrects, sends down to Sheol, and raises up.” Or think of the V’ahavta, which tells us to recite these words when we lie down and rise up, בשכבך ובקומך. Moses too will lie down and rise up, with the added excitement of rising from the grave. There you have it, proof in the Torah for the doctrine of resurrection.

Except, there’s a problem with this interpretation, and it’s not difficult to discern. The full verse reads: 

וַיֹּאמֶר ה׳ אֶל־מֹשֶׁה הִנְּךָ שֹׁכֵב עִם־אֲבֹתֶיךָ 

The Lord said to Moses: You are soon to lie with your fathers.

וְקָם הָעָם הַזֶּה וְזָנָה אַחֲרֵי אֱלֹהֵי נֵכַר־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר הוּא בָא־שָׁמָּה בְּקִרְבּוֹ וַעֲזָבַנִי וְהֵפֵר אֶת־בְּרִיתִי אֲשֶׁר כָּרַתִּי אִתּוֹ׃

This people will rise and go astray after the alien gods in their midst, in the land that they are about to enter; they will forsake Me and break My covenant that I made with them. 

The second half of the verse starting with the word וְקָם “arise” is not about Moses rising from his grave, but about the people, who after his death will rise up and serve idols. If you claim the word וְקָם for Moses the rest of the sentence makes no sense. The Talmud itself anticipates this objection, having the Sadducees reply, וְדִילְמָא ״וְקָם הָעָם הַזֶּה וְזָנָה״? Couldn’t the verse read, “then this people will rise?” The Talmud quickly moves on to its next proof, which is also refuted.  

But I would like to stay with this prooftext about Moses and his next chapter of life. First, let’s notice that the verse uses a biblical idiom for death, with God saying that Moses will lie down with his ancestors, הִנְּךָ שֹׁכֵב עִם־אֲבֹתֶיךָ. Next week at the end of Ha’azinu, a similar expression is used–וְהֵאָסֵף אֶל־עַמֶּיךָ. We don’t know exactly where he was buried, other than near Beit-Peor, as the Torah says (Deut. 34:6), וְלֹא־יָדַע אִישׁ אֶת־קְבֻרָתוֹ עַד הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה׃ But wherever it was, this was not an ancestral burial ground. There are no references to ancestors buried near Mt. Nebo. So, when the Torah states that he will lie down with his ancestors, it can’t mean that his bones will be beside theirs. The Torah must mean that Moses will join his ancestors in being dead, and perhaps also, in being alive in some disembodied state in She’ol, the biblical underworld.

The latter possibility is strengthened by another verse in our parashah, 31:23. Moses tells Joshua to be strong because Joshua will lead the people into the land, adding, “and I will be with you.”

וַיְצַו אֶת־יְהוֹשֻׁעַ בִּן־נוּן וַיֹּאמֶר חֲזַק וֶאֱמָץ כִּי אַתָּה תָּבִיא אֶת־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶל־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר־נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי לָהֶם וְאָנֹכִי אֶהְיֶה עִמָּךְ׃

And He charged Joshua son of Nun: “Be strong and resolute: for you shall bring the Israelites into the land that I promised them on oath, and I will be with you.”

This verse is ambiguous–who is speaking here, God or Moses? It could be either of them. Rashi says that this verse refers back to God, מוסב למעלה כלפי שכינה, and Ramban agrees with him. Abraham ibn Ezra thinks that this is Moses speaking in God’s name. Still, the verses before and after this one refer only to Moses, and God is not described as speaking here. So, perhaps this is Moses telling Joshua not to be afraid, that he, Moses, will somehow accompany his student across the Jordan, not in body, but in spirit. 

It’s hard to say, because Chapter 31 of Deuteronomy, which is the entirety of Parashat Vayeilekh, is a maze of repetitions and contradictions. Already in medieval times ibn Ezra explained (31:15) the disorder with the expression ואין מוקדם ומאוחר בתורה, the Scripture does not follow chronological order. Later rabbis like Netziv, Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, explain the repetitions as prophecies about different episodes in Israel’s future. 

In contrast, modern Bible scholars have used this chapter as a parade example of source criticism, showing that it blends elements from the earlier JE sources with D to make for a confusing finished product. That said, Jeffrey Tigay shows that chapter 31 was artfully edited to conform to the literary structure known as chiastic, in this case ABCBA (JPS Torah Commentary: Deuteronomy, Excursus 29, p.505). Our chapter speaks about (A) the writing of the Torah, then (B) the appointment of Joshua to succeed Moses, then (C) an aside about the poem Moses will teach Israel before he dies. It then returns to (B’) the appointment of Joshua, and concludes where we began with (A’) the writing of the Torah.

I discern a message in this chiastic structure that points to a deeper meaning of the doctrine of resurrection. This convoluted text seems to be saying that the teaching of Torah is a capsule, a frame, that sustains order even in the chaos of generational succession and geographic dislocation. The leaders may change, the location may change, and the faith of the people will certainly be challenged and change over time. Yet if the Torah remains entrusted to the people of Israel, if its words are placed in their mouths to be sung generation after generation, then the Torah of Moses will never be forgotten, and neither will he. God, who is notein ha’Torah, the giver of Torah, will sustain us if we sustain our gift, if we continue to treasure the Torah. 

Tractate Sanhedrin offers another proof of resurrection. It quotes the verse from Song of Songs that ends, דּוֹבֵב שִׂפְתֵי יְשֵׁנִים, the lips of those who sleep move, and explains that this refers to people who have died. When you teach Torah in their name, then their lips move in the grave. 

דְּאָמַר רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן מִשּׁוּם רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן יְהוֹצָדָק: כׇּל מִי שֶׁנֶּאֶמְרָה הֲלָכָה בִּשְׁמוֹ בְּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה, שִׂפְתוֹתָיו דּוֹבְבוֹת בַּקֶּבֶר, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״דּוֹבֵב שִׂפְתֵי יְשֵׁנִים״.

The rabbis knew perfectly well that lips don’t last for long after death. They even had a practice of ליקוט עצמות, gathering the bones one year after death to place in an ossuary for a second burial, קבורה שניה. Let’s not take them literally, but rather seriously. The sages understood that when we teach Torah in the name of a person who has died, we essentially revive them, giving voice to their wisdom, and guidance to their descendants. It is a spiritual resurrection, not a physical one.

Perhaps this is what the Mishnah is really talking about when it says תחיית המתים מן התורה, that resurrection comes from the Torah. It’s not that the Torah explicitly claims that the dead will be bodily resurrected, but the opposite. The Torah itself is the mechanism of reviving the dead. When we teach their Torah, then we experience their presence. Moses is in the room with us today, and so too are all of our teachers who have left us in body, but conveyed their messages to guide us in life. Only if a Jew fails to study and to teach Torah do we worry that they will have squandered their cheilek l’olam ha’ba, their ticket to heaven. 

I sometimes think that the moods of Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur are strangely reversed. The former is our Day of Judgment, a day of harshness, yet we feast on apples and honey and smile as we wish one another a sweet new year. Yom Kippur is our Day of Atonement, when we are forgiven sins, which should be cause for relief and celebration, and yet we are somber and even scared until the mood lifts at the very end. We feast at the time of judgment, and we fast at the time of atonement. Strange, isn’t it? 

Perhaps we can think of it this way. Rosh HaShanah is when we desperately cling to life in these bodies. We pamper them with rich and sweet foods, worried perhaps that these may be our final feasts. We pray to be granted another year alive in our bodies, which is all we know of life. But on Yom Kippur we imagine and even yearn for a life that transcends our physical existence. We deny these bodies their pleasures, and we summon the presence of our ancestors with Yizkor. We imagine them being like Moses, וְאָנֹכִי אֶהְיֶה עִמָּךְ׃, I will be with you. We recall their presence, their example, their lessons, and we too try to transcend this limited life. 

We are not ready to die just yet, and so long as we live we are responsible to make this world less horrible, less false, less violent, less malicious, less angry. During these days of atonement, we take responsibility for our failures and commit to do better in relationship to one another and to God. And if we do these things, then our lives become a kind of eternal Torah, a source of life that will outlast these bodies. Then it will be said of us, and of those whom we have lost, that their Torah is itself alive, that there is indeed תחיית המתים מן התורה. 

I am inspired by the example of my mother and teacher, אמי ומורתי, Phyllis Anne Brower Nevins, פסיה בת יצחק הלוי ורחל ע״ה, may God’s peace be upon her. Around the age of 40 she led our family on a journey of Jewish renaissance, becoming a skilled Jewish artist and an eager student of Torah during her remaining 25 years of life. I hope that my words and actions can somehow represent her Torah, and thereby extend her life. When we next visit her grave, it will not be with the expectation or even the desire that she will physically rise from the ground, but rather that our family will remember her virtues, and strive to exhibit them ourselves. This is the resurrection that I find in the Torah, and that I believe we can each accomplish. Perhaps this is what it means to be written for life–that our deeds themselves become like a written Torah, added to the Book of Life, preserving our memory, and extending our example to guide those who will live beyond our lifetimes. May we all be written and sealed for a life that transcends our physical existence, that honors our ancestors and fortifies our descendants. גמר חתימה טובה