The Importance of the Covenant at Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal
The location that lies at the heart of Parashat Ki Tavo is undoubtedly Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal. The covenant of Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal seems to be quite an important mitzva in the context of Deuteronomy. It is mentioned twice in Deuteronomy, in extremely significant places. The book of Deuteronomy is divided into three parts, and since Parashat Ki Tavo is always read at the end of the month of Elul, it is only fitting to compare this three-part division to the three parts of each shofar blast on Rosh Ha-shana. It is well known that each blast (teru’a) is accompanied by a “plain blast” (teki’a) before it and after it, totaling three distinct sounds. The book of Deuteronomy is constructed using a similar format: In the beginning, Moses presents the basic tenets of faith (Parashiyot Devarim, Va’etchanan and Ekev); then comes the complex and diverse list of mitzvot (Re’eh, Shoftim, Ki Tetze, and the beginning of Ki Tavo); and finally the “plain blast” returns – the covenant is forged, accompanied by song and blessing.
It is interesting that it is precisely at the two points of transition between the three sections that the mitzva to bless and curse at Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal occurs. The first time, this mitzva appears only briefly, at the end of the faith chapters of Deuteronomy and before the start of the list of mitzvot in the opening to Parashat Re’eh. The second time, it is described at length in Parashat Ki Tavo, after the mitzvot section and before the covenant section. This demonstrates that the book of Deuteronomy assigns unique significance to the blessing and curse ritual that took place between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal. Its textual placement between the principles of faith and the mitzva details seemingly teaches us that within the essence of this transition lies the connection between lofty principles and practical actions.
The outsize importance of the mitzva to read the blessing and the curse between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal is especially striking in light of the fact that the mitzva is not applicable for future generations. It was a one-time event that captivated the hearts of the entire nation at the time of their entry into the land of Canaan. It may be that the final two commandments in the Torah – the mitzva of hak’hel, which renews the covenant every seven years, and the mitzva to write down the song of Ha’azinu for future generations, “in order that this poem may be My witness against the people of Israel” (Deuteronomy 31:19) – represent an intergenerational vehicle for the message of this one-time event. Be that as it may, this is an exceptionally unique mitzva, one that was intended from the start to be fulfilled one time only. In addition, the Torah dedicates considerable attention to the details of the mitzva and to the precise location where it was set to take place. In order for us to understand the essence of this event, we must first try to understand the details of this mitzva, as well as the framework for the time and place that the Torah designates for its fulfillment. It is easy to become lost in the sea of rabbinic commentary on this question, so we will not attempt to review all of the opinions and possibilities. Instead we will attempt to forge directly to the crux of the matter.
Why Specifically on Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal?
What is the unique significance of this place? And why was the city of Shechem not mentioned explicitly in the Torah’s description of the location.
The first idea was proposed by Henry Baker Tristram (1822-1906), a Christian scholar who possessed great love and knowledge of the Tanakh. Tristram toured the land and studied its sites, focusing specifically on their flora and fauna, about 150 years ago. He scaled Mount Gerizim, reaching its peak on December 21, 1863. According to Tristram, Mount Gerizim was chosen for the blessing and curse ceremony, and later as the site where Jotham delivered his parable, because of the unique acoustic effect created by the two tall mountains that enclose the Shechem valley. Tristram writes:
A single voice might be heard by many thousands, shut in and conveyed up and down by the enclosing hills. In the early morning we could not only see from Gerizim a man driving his ass down a path on Mount Ebal, but could hear every word he uttered as he urged it on; and in order to test the matter more certainly, on a subsequent occasion two of our party stationed themselves on opposite sides of the valley, and with perfect ease recited the commandments antiphonally.
I do not know what inspired Tristram’s companions to recite the Ten Commandments specifically for this test, but the key point here is the technical appropriateness of the location for its purpose, as Tristram states: “It is impossible to conceive a spot more admirably adapted for the purpose than this one.” It is interesting to note that Eusebius, the Greek bishop of Caesarea around 320 CE, believed that Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal near Shechem are not the actual mountains in question, since “they are not able to hear one another when calling out from one” (Onomasticon 64:13-15). Tristram’s “test” and my own personal experience (as well as that of many others) seem to belie this statement.
While Tristram’s account is as charming as it is true, it is somewhat difficult to suffice with such a technical explanation for such a portentous choice.
The second idea is from Professor Yoel Elitzur. The Torah stresses that the blessing and curse ceremony must take place between the two mountains, Gerizim and Ebal; and that the Torah intentionally refrains from mentioning Shechem by name, seemingly in order to distance the covenant from any connection to the city. While Shechem certainly has its own virtues, the covenant of the blessing and the curse is not connected to those virtues but to those of the two mountains. Nonetheless, Shechem can provide us with a frame of reference for the division of the land into regions. A map of the cities of refuge in the land of Israel demonstrates that Shechem is located in the central region of the land. As the Torah states, “You shall divide into three parts the territory of the country” (Deuteronomy 19:3). This teaches us that Shechem, located between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal, is considered the midpoint of the land of Israel. From the perspective of road travel as well, one of the branches of the ancient international road bisected the land of Israel at the valley conveniently located between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal. From here, this branch splits off into the national road from Shechem, passing through Shiloh, Bethel, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Hebron and Beersheba. Jacob, and apparently Abraham before him, arrived in the land of Canaan via this road. Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal are very tall mountains; Mount Ebal is 3084 feet above sea level, while Mount Gerizim is 2890 feet above sea level. A steep slope from each mountain leads to the valley between the two, about 1640 feet above sea level.
The Hebrew verb for forging a covenant is kerita (literally, cutting off) and similar verbs serve the same purpose in other languages as well. In two places in the Tanakh, we indeed find that the parties involved in a covenant would cut up the body of a live animal and pass through the pieces. Thus, we read regarding the Covenant of the Pieces:
Bring Me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old she-goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove and a young bird… He cut them in two, placing each half opposite the other… There appeared a smoking oven and a flaming torch (Rashi: the proxy of the Shekhina, which is fire) which passed between those pieces. (Genesis 15:9-17)
Likewise, in Jeremiah 34:18: “The calf which they cut in two so as to pass between the halves.” The meaning of this practice in the context of forging a covenant is perhaps the following statement: We are both symbolically connected to each other as one life body. If we violate the terms of the covenant, may the two of us be like these two carcasses. In light of this, it seems to me that Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal were chosen because this was the place where it was as if G-d cut the land of Israel in two. Between the pieces, the Ark – representing the Shekhina – stood along with the people of Israel and together forged a covenant. The covenant between G-d and the people of Israel had already been forged at Sinai, but that was merely a theoretical covenant, established in the wilderness, over a Torah that was neither connected to the land of Israel nor grounded in reality. In the land of Canaan, the Torah assumed its true form, as it was given “for you to observe in the land that you are about to cross into and occupy” (Deuteronomy 4:14). The land of Israel is a living body, a land that bestows its bounty upon its faithful children (“The land shall yield its fruit” [Leviticus 25:19]), listens closely to the word of G-d (“Let the earth hear the words I utter!” [Deuteronomy 32:1]), acts as a witness (“I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day [30:19]) and spews out those that defile it (“Let not the land spew you out for defiling it” [Leviticus 18:28]). Now, the covenant is renewed together with the land itself, between the pieces of the “living body” of the land of Israel.
The third idea was conceived by Rabbi Uri Sherki of Jerusalem and developed by Rabbi Yisrael Ariel, a teacher at Yeshivas Od Yosef Chai in Yitzhar. The yeshiva was situated in the very plot of land purchased by Jacob (Genesis 33:19) in which Joseph’s Tomb was later situated (Joshua 24:32) near the mound of ancient Shechem until the riots of September-October 2000. It can be said that the Biblical virtue of this site and its vicinity was a central theme in the yeshiva’s world view. The following is the idea, in brief.
The area between Gerizim and Ebal has a distinctive landscape, one that resembles an overturned mountain. The ceremony at Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal can be seen as a kind of negative image of the revelation at Sinai. At Mount Sinai, the people of Israel stood at the foot of the mountain. The mountain itself was enveloped in thick cloud, smoke and fire, and G-d’s voice emanated from within the fire, addressing the nation. At this heady juncture, what does the nation do? All the people need to do is listen. This task is perfectly suited for the people who had only recently left Egypt, who now subsist on manna in the wilderness; all that is asked of them is to listen to the voice of G-d. Upon entering the land, however, their hierarchy of values is turned on its head. In the land of Israel, nature takes the place of miracles; “You shall gather in your new grain and wine and oil” (Deuteronomy 11:14). G-d’s voice does not emanate from within the fire; rather we must broadcast G-d’s voice on our own. In the land of Israel, the divine word does not come from some mountain that towers above us; quite the opposite, G-d’s voice stems from within the holy ground itself. The Ark stands in the middle, surrounded by the Levites, in lieu of G-d’s actual voice, the Levites transmit G-d’s message from within the land and the nation of Israel stands on the slopes of Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal on both sides of the valley. Instead of clouds and smoke, there are stones painted by the Israelites themselves with white plaster. The whole ceremony acts as a metaphor for divine worship in the land of Israel, a worship that is firmly rooted in the land’s holy soil. Even the very voice of G-d does not ring out on its own; we must listen for it and broadcast it on our own.