Divine Real Estate- Parshas Eikev

Imagine that you're a real estate agent trying to sell a hot property to a potential client. After showing them around the property, you proceed to rattle off a long list of features, including the fact that while all of the surrounding properties have their own well system and built-in water supply, this property requires water to be delivered from an outside source.  After hearing that, I'd be willing to bet that your client would say, "Thanks, but no thanks!"  Who in their right mind would choose a property with a potentially unreliable water supply over one that would let them rest easy at night?

If my assumption is true, this raises a difficulty with something we find in this week's Torah portion, Eikev. Moses describes to the Jewish people the Promised Land of Israel, which they are preparing to enter, as "a land flowing with milk and honey," certainly music to the ears of any potential tenant. But in the next couple of verses (Deuteronomy 11:10,11), Moses, in an effort to really sell the Jews on their new real estate, contrasts the Land of Israel with Egypt by saying, "For the land to which you come... is not like the land of Egypt that you left, where you would plant your seed and water it on foot like a vegetable garden. But the land to which you cross over to possess it is a land of mountains and valleys; from the rain of heaven it will drink water." The commentaries explain that Egypt satisfied its irrigation needs from the mighty Nile River, which would overflow its banks and deliver water to the fields where it was needed. The last time I checked, the Nile was in no danger of drying up, so that sounds like a pretty reliable system. Contrast that with the Land of Israel, which has to rely on seasonal rains for its water supply.  In that part of the world, with its arid and dry conditions, this can be a pretty risky proposition. Also bear in mind that when Moses made these statements, they had yet to invent any sophisticated methods for storing water. So why in the world does Moses use this as a selling point for the Promised Land?

The Mabit (1505–1585) suggests that the answer may be found in the following verse: "A land that Hashem, your G-d, seeks out; the eyes of Hashem, your G-d, are always upon it, from the beginning of the year to year's end" (Deuteronomy 11:12).  In other words, the real selling point of the Land of Israel is that its reliance upon the seasonal rains for its existence ensures an ongoing relationship with G-d, who oversees the rains, which that wouldn't be the case if the entire annual water supply were ready and waiting for them upon their arrival.

We find this concept elsewhere in the Torah. In the aftermath of Adam and Eve's sin of eating from the Tree of Knowledge, a result of their succumbing to the serpent’s persuasion, G-d proceeds to mete out punishments to all of the guilty parties. Adam is told that he will now have to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow; Eve is informed that she will experience pain and discomfort in the bearing and raising of children; and the serpent is condemned to eat dust all the days of his life. Now, if you ask me, I think that the serpent gets off easy. After all, G-d is telling him that he'll eat dust for the rest of his life. If you look around, there's dust everywhere, so the serpent is essentially being told that he'll never have to worry about another meal in his life! What kind of punishment is that for the real villain of the story? The Sochachover Rebbe explains that in fact, the serpent received the worst punishment of all, for G-d was really telling him, "Don't call me, and I won't call you." The serpent was given a lifetime supply of food and told that G-d wants nothing to do with him anymore. The greatest tragedy of all is feeling so secure in what one has that there seems to be no reason to reach out to the Almighty.

Let us remember that while we must always be thankful for that which we have in life, we should also appreciate our deficiencies and the fact that we're not entirely self-sufficient , because it is precisely this realization that guarantees us the greatest gift of all: an ongoing relationship with our Creator and Provider.