When the Jewish people first entered the Land of Israel, they stood atop two mountains, Mount Eival and Mount Grizim.  From one mountain, they proclaimed a series of blessings.  From the other, they proclaimed a series of curses.  How can you remember which is which?  If you change the vowelization of Eival, it can sound like “evil,” because it was the mountain that the curses were said from.

In this week’s Torah portion, Ki Savo, G-d also commands that the Jewish people build a monument to commemorate this historic event.  He instructs that they take huge stones, carve all the words of the Torah into them, and cover them in plaster, presumably to preserve them and beautify them.  These stones were made in such a way that they would stand as a reminder of the Covenant for hundreds of years.

And where would they place this monument?  On Mount Eival.  On the “evil” mountain where the curses were said.  

Rav Moshe Feinstein asks why G-d would have them place it there instead of on the mountain where the blessings were recited.  Ostensibly, blessings are of a higher level of holiness and a more positive thing to focus on.

Rav Moshe answers by pointing out that these curses were not designed as a punishment for wrong doing.  They were a motivator for doing right.  

It’s an interesting phenomenon of human psychology that people tend to be more motivated to avoid something bad than they are to gain something good.  Similarly, people often make the biggest changes in their lives in times of crisis or difficulty.  

Our Sages say that in the place where a baal tchuva (someone who returns to G-d) stands, even a tzadik gamor (a completely righteous person) can’t stand.  Actively changing ourselves for the good is the most powerful thing we can do in this world.  It has an impact that just continuing to do good doesn’t have.  

G-d saw that the place of the greatest growth, the greatest movement in new positive directions, would be on Mount Eival.  It might be more uncomfortable up there.  It might be more frightening.  But with a little fire under us, we can get inspired to move mountains.  

And that is the place for an altar to G-d.  Not the place of complacency, but the place where people change themselves and then change the world.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi A and the JET Team