Parshat Ki Tavo6 min read

The Ninety-Eight Curses Moses Trembled to Deliver

In Deuteronomy's 98 curses, Moses trembled as he spoke. Synagogues still whisper them. The curses were aimed at Israel, not enemies.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Count
  2. Why Moses Trembled
  3. The Whisper in the Synagogue
  4. What the Curses Are For
  5. The Covenant That Held After the Curses

The Count

Moses had delivered curses before. In Leviticus 26, the Tochachah runs for thirty-two verses and threatens enough catastrophe to silence a room. Deuteronomy 28 begins the same way and does not stop. Disease. Drought. Military defeat. The sky turning to bronze, the earth to iron. Madness, blindness, confusion of heart. Siege so severe that the most tender woman in Israel, a woman so gentle she had never set her foot hard on the ground, would turn from her own children in the extremity of hunger and eat what she should not eat.

The count reaches ninety-eight before the passage ends. The rabbis noted that Leviticus had thirty-two curses and came with an explanation: Moses delivered those curses in the first person, as God's voice. Deuteronomy's ninety-eight he delivered in his own voice, and the greater number belongs to the greater intimacy of the threat. When Moses himself warned of what would come, he went further than God's formal pronouncement, because Moses knew his people, and he knew what they were capable of walking into.

Why Moses Trembled

The tradition records that Moses shuddered as he began the Tochachah. He said to Israel: I am only one man. How can I speak all these curses? But Israel told him: our teacher, speak them. Whatever God has commanded, we will hear and we will do.

The midrash sees in this exchange the same structure as every covenant moment: God sets the terms, Israel accepts them, Moses mediates. But the Tochachah is the covenant's dark face, the list of what the agreement costs when it is broken. Moses was trembling not because the words were difficult to pronounce but because they described things he could see coming. He had led these people for forty years. He knew their tendency. The curses were not abstract predictions. They were specific and, to a man who had watched this people in action since Egypt, entirely plausible.

The Whisper in the Synagogue

In synagogues today the Torah reader does not announce the Tochachah with the usual call for an honoree to come forward. The passage is chanted rapidly and quietly. Communities vary in their practice, but the tradition of rushing through the curses, of not dwelling on them, of getting past them, is nearly universal. It is considered bad form to be called to the Torah for these verses. Many communities use the same reader for the whole section rather than honoring members with aliyot during the curses.

This is not embarrassment about the text. It is reverence for it combined with the recognition that the curses are still technically operative. They describe conditions that have been fulfilled more than once in Jewish history. The whisper is not denial. It is a kind of careful handling, the way you carry something that broke once before and might break again, not by holding it loosely but by holding it with both hands and moving slowly.

What the Curses Are For

The Tochachah is addressed to Israel, not to its enemies. This is the detail that makes the passage different from, say, the prophetic oracles against Babylon or Egypt. God did not threaten the nations with what they would suffer if they abandoned the covenant. God threatened Israel, specifically, because Israel had made the covenant. The curses are the other side of the election: to be chosen is to be held to a standard that others are not held to, and the consequences of failing that standard are proportionate to the weight of what was accepted at Sinai.

Midrash Tanchuma on the parashah Deuteronomy 26:16 places the commandments of this day alongside a call to bow and kneel before God, reading the Tochachah's backdrop as the full posture of covenant acceptance: not just the blessings but everything. Covenant is not a menu. It is a relationship with an accountability structure, and the ninety-eight curses are the accountability structure written out in detail so no one can claim they did not know what was at stake.

The Covenant That Held After the Curses

The Tochachah does not end with the last curse. Deuteronomy 28 gives way to Deuteronomy 29, which opens with Moses telling Israel: you have seen all that God did in Egypt and in the wilderness. Your eyes have seen the signs and the wonders. But God did not give you a heart to know or eyes to see or ears to hear until this day.

The curses were not the final word. They were the terms. The covenant continued past them, into the chapter about return, about God's remembering the covenant with the ancestors, about the circumcision of the heart that would come even after all the disasters had been completed. The covenant that held through the fulfilled curses was, the tradition insisted, stronger than the covenant that had never been tested. Knowing what you were bound to and remaining bound anyway, even after the consequences landed, was the shape of the relationship God had chosen for this people.


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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Midrash Tanchuma, Ki Tavo 1Midrash Tanchuma

(Deut. 26:16:) “This day the Lord your God is commanding you to perform.” This text is related (to Ps. 95:6), “Come, let us bow down and bend, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker!” But is not bending included in bowing down; and bowing down in bowing? So what does the instruction mean by “let us bow down and bend and kneel down?” Moses simply foresaw that the Temple was going to be destroyed and that the firstfruits were going to cease. He arose and arranged for Israel to pray three times on every day, because prayer is more pleasing to the Holy One, blessed be He, than all of the good works and all of the sacrifices. It is so written (Ps. 141:2), “Take my prayer as an offering of incense, my upraised hands as an evening sacrifice.” And when it was decreed for Moses not to enter the land in spite of all of his good works, he began to pray, and he said (in Deut. 3:25), “Please let me cross over and see [the good land].” The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him (in vss. 26-27), “Enough from you; do not ever speak unto Me on this matter again. Go up to the top of Pisgah.” It is therefore stated (in 26:16), “[This day] the Lord your God is commanding you to perform….” What is written above the matter (in vs. 15)? “Look down from Your holy dwelling, [from the heavens and bless Your people].” R. Abbahu said in the name of R. Jose bar Hanina, “How spoiled and how great a pretext are given to those who perform the commandments [for doing so]: If someone has business with the empire, there are times when he gives some money, until they have him reach the king. When he does reach the king, he has doubts whether he will fulfill his request or not. The Holy One, blessed be He, however, is not like that. Rather when one goes down into his field [and] sees a [grape] cluster that has ripened early, a fig that has ripened early, a pomegranate that has ripened early, he puts it in a basket, goes to Jerusalem and enters and stands in the [Temple] courtyard; he [then] asks mercy for himself, for Israel, and for the land of Israel. Thus it is stated (in Deut. 26:15), ‘Look down from your holy dwelling, [from the heavens and bless your people].’ And not only that, but he would say, “I am not moving from here until You perform my requirements this day,’ as it is written next to it (in vs. 16), ‘This day the Lord your God is commanding you to perform.’” Resh Laqish said, “A heavenly voice (bat qol) comes forth and says, ‘You shall do it again on this day in the coming year.’ [He is] like one who gives fresh fruit to his friend, and [the friend] says to him, ‘Would that you would do this again, and give me some next year.’” R. Hiya bar Abba said, “How spoiled are those who perform the commandments in front of the Holy One, blessed be He. As the Holy One blessed be He, enacts a decree and the righteous ones annul it. As it is stated (Eccl. 8:4), ‘Inasmuch as a king’s command is authoritative, and who can say to him, “What are you doing.”’ Who is it [that can say it]? (Eccl. 8:5:) ‘One who obeys commandments will not know a bad thing,’ he can object to the Holy One, blessed be He.” And so with David, he said (II Sam. 23:3), “The God of Israel said, the Rock of Israel spoke about me, ‘He that rules over men must be righteous, ruling in the fear of God.” [(Deut. 26:16:) “This day the Lord your God is commanding you to perform…].” What is the meaning of this day? Had the Holy One, blessed be He, not given a command to Israel until now? And was not this the fortieth year (since they left Egypt), as stated (in Deut. 1:3), “And it came to pass in the fortieth year….” Then what is the meaning of the words, “this day?” Simply that Moses spoke to Israel as follows, “On each and every day, let the Torah be dear to you, as if you had received it this day from Mount Sinai.” Moreover, it is written in another place (i.e., in Deut. 4:9), “make them known to your children….” Then it is written (in vs. 10), “The day that you stood before the Lord [your God at Horeb].” (Deut. 26:16, cont.) “These statutes,” these are the midrashic commentaries; “and these ordinances,” these are the court decisions. Another interpretation (of Deut. 26:16), “these statutes and these ordinances: [They are meant] to include light and heavy [commandments], inferences from analogy, and fine points of scribal exegesis. (Deut. 26:16, cont.) “So you are to be diligent in doing them.” R. Johanan said, “When anyone performs a single commandment truthfully, Scripture ascribes it to him as if it had been given [to him] from Mount Sinai, as stated (Deut. 26:16), ‘So you are to be diligent in doing.’” Then what is the meaning of (in Lev. 25:18), “and you shall do (which can also be read as, make) them?” Rather, anyone that observes the Torah and does it truthfully, it as if he arranged it and gave it from Mount Sinai. And R. Johanan also said, “Anyone who does [what is written in] the Torah truthfully, Scripture ascribes it to him as if he had made himself; as stated (in Deut. 4:14), ‘At that time the Lord commanded me to impart [to you laws and rules to make you do].’ It does not say, ‘to do them,’ but “to make you, do them.’ From here [we learn] that Scripture ascribes it to him as if he made and created himself.” (Deut. 26:16, cont.) “With all your heart.” Behold Scripture warns Israel and says to them, “When you pray to the Holy One, blessed be He, you shall not have two hearts, one in the presence of the Holy One, blessed be He, and one for something else.”

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Zohar 1:93aZohar

It's so much more than just a physical act; it’s a profound moment steeped in tradition, faith, and ancient promises. And at the heart of it all stands a powerful, unexpected figure: Elijah the Prophet.

The Zohar, that mystical foundation of Jewish thought, tells us that those marked with the sign of the covenant – the b'rit – are shielded from Gehenna, often translated as hell. A physical act carrying such spiritual weight!

When a father brings his son into this covenant, God, in a sense, invites the angels to witness it. "Come and see what my sons are doing in the world," He proclaims. It's a divine invitation to observe a deeply human act of faith.

Who answers that call in a particularly dramatic fashion? None other than Elijah.

Elijah, the fiery prophet who ascended to heaven in a whirlwind (as recounted in (2 Kings 2:1)1), becomes something else entirely in this moment. He transforms into the very Angel of the Covenant. According to tradition, he descends to earth in four mighty leaps to be present at every b'rit.

That’s why we prepare a special chair, often ornate and specifically designated, for Elijah. We even announce, "This is the chair of Elijah." It’s more than just a symbolic gesture; it’s an invitation. The tradition says that if the chair isn't prepared, Elijah won't dwell there. Think of it – we're creating a space for a prophet who has become an angel!

Then, Elijah ascends back to the heavens and testifies before God, confirming whether the circumcision has been performed. He acts as a celestial witness, a guarantor of the covenant.

This ritual of the b'rit, performed on the eighth day after a Jewish boy's birth, harkens back to the very beginning, to Abraham himself. (Genesis 17:24) tells us of Abraham's own circumcision, making this b'rit a direct link to our patriarch. It's considered one of the most fundamental rites in Judaism, so much so that, traditionally, foregoing it was unthinkable.

Why is this so important? Because this covenant is believed to provide God's protection for the child. Before the b'rit, tradition holds that the child is vulnerable to the forces of evil. See "Abraham's Vision of God," p. 331, for more on this.

So, the next time you hear about a b'rit milah, remember it's not just a medical procedure or a religious obligation. It's a powerful moment of connection – to God, to Abraham, and to Elijah, the Angel of the Covenant, who stands as a silent witness, ensuring the promise is kept. It makes you wonder about all the unseen forces that are present in our lives, doesn't it?

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Legends of the Jews, V. Abraham, The Covenant Of The PiecesLegends of the Jews

God revealed Himself to Abraham shortly after, to ease his conscience about the spilling of innocent blood, a scruple that caused him great anguish. God assured him that pious men would arise from his descendants, shielding their generations just as he had.

That wasn't all. God granted Abraham a rare gift: the permission to ask for anything he desired – a grace given to very few others, including Jacob, Solomon, Ahaz, and even the Messiah.

Abraham, ever mindful of his future generations, responded, "O Lord of the world, if in time to come my descendants should provoke Thy wrath, it were better I remained childless!" He even suggested that Lot, for whose sake he had journeyed to Damascus, would make a fine heir. Abraham, after all, believed he had read in the stars that he would have no children.

God, in a powerful moment, raised Abraham above the vault of the skies and declared, "Thou art a prophet, not an astrologer!"

Abraham, convinced, didn't even demand a sign regarding offspring. His simple faith earned him a share in this world and the world to come. The redemption of Israel from exile would be a reward for his unwavering trust.

However, Abraham, while believing in the promise, still wanted to know how his descendants would maintain themselves. Therefore, God instructed him to bring a sacrifice: three heifers, three she-goats, three rams, a turtle dove, and a young pigeon. These animals, God explained, represented the various sacrifices to be brought in the Beit Hamikdash, the Temple, to atone for Israel's sins and ensure their well-being.

But what would become of them, Abraham asked, after the Temple’s destruction? God responded that if they read the order of sacrifices as written in the Scriptures, He would consider it as if they had offered the sacrifices, forgiving their sins.

Then, God revealed to Abraham the sweep of Israel's history and the history of the world itself. According to tradition, the three-year-old heifer symbolized the dominion of Babylon, the she-goat represented the Greek empire, and the ram stood for the Medo-Persian power. The rule of Ishmael was also represented by a ram, and Israel was symbolized by the innocent dove.

Abraham took the animals and divided them in the middle, a symbolic act that, had it not been performed, would have left Israel unable to resist the power of the four kingdoms. The birds, however, he did not divide, signifying that Israel would remain whole. When birds of prey descended upon the carcasses, Abraham drove them away, foreshadowing the arrival of the Messiah, who would cut down the heathen. Yet, Abraham bid the Messiah to wait until the appointed time.

This scene, often called the Brit Bein Habetarim, the Covenant of the Pieces, is described in Genesis 15.

Not only was the Messianic time revealed to Abraham, but also the time of the resurrection of the dead. As he arranged the halves of the animals, they miraculously came back to life as the bird flew over them.

While preparing these sacrifices, Abraham received a vision of profound significance. As the sun set, a deep sleep fell upon him, and he saw a smoking furnace – Gehenna, the place God prepares for sinners. He also beheld a flaming torch, representing the revelation at Sinai, where the people saw flaming torches. He saw the sacrifices to be brought by Israel. And then, an "horror of great darkness" fell upon him, symbolizing the dominion of the four kingdoms.

God spoke to Abraham, explaining that as long as his children fulfilled the two duties of studying the Torah and performing the service in the Temple, they would be spared Gehenna and alien rule. However, if they neglected these duties, they would suffer the consequences. God then offered Abraham a choice: punishment through Gehenna or through the dominion of strangers.

All day long, Abraham wavered. Finally, God urged him to decide on one, and to choose the dominion of the stranger. Then, God revealed the four hundred years of bondage in Egypt, reckoning from the birth of Isaac. However, Abraham himself was promised that he would go to his fathers in peace, untouched by the arrogance of the oppressor.

As we find in Midrash Rabbah, it was also revealed to Abraham that his father, Terah, would have a share in the world to come, having repented for his sins. Ishmael would turn toward righteousness while his father was still alive, and Esau would not begin his impious ways until after Abraham’s death.

And so, alongside the promise of deliverance, Abraham received the announcement of slavery for his descendants in a foreign land. But it was also revealed to him that God would judge the four kingdoms and ultimately destroy them.

The Covenant of the Pieces, then, is not just a story about sacrifice and prophecy. It's a story about faith, responsibility, and the enduring relationship between God and Israel. It's a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope for redemption. And perhaps most powerfully, it is a reassurance that our actions, both good and bad, have consequences that ripple through generations. What kind of legacy are we building today?

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