That’s precisely what’s happening at the very beginning of Sefer Devarim, the Book of Deuteronomy. The text wastes no time diving right in. It says, "across the Jordan," and "in the desert." Simple enough. But these aren't just geographical markers. According to Sifrei Devarim, these phrases are loaded. They're code.
"Across the Jordan": this teaches us, the text says, that Moses is rebuking the people for their actions on the other side of the Jordan River. : this is the very edge of the Promised Land. They're so close to fulfilling the covenant, and yet Moses chooses this moment to…call them out?
Why?
Then comes "in the desert." This one stings even more. The Sifrei Devarim reveals a particularly painful episode. It describes the people, filled with despair and resentment, grabbing their children – their own sons and daughters – and throwing them into Moses’ lap. “What provisions did you make for these?” they demanded. “What livelihood did you provide?”
Can you imagine the scene? The desperation, the anger, the sheer weight of responsibility dumped on Moses in such a brutal way?
Rabbi Yehudah offers a specific example of what "in the desert" refers to, pointing to a moment recorded in Exodus (Shemot) 16:3. Remember the story? The Israelites, fresh out of Egypt, are already complaining. They whine, “Would that we had died by the hand of the L-rd in the land of Egypt!” Egypt, the place of slavery, is now viewed through rose-colored glasses. Anything, it seems, is better than the uncertainty of freedom.
So, what’s the takeaway here? Why start the Book of Deuteronomy with these harsh reminders? Perhaps it’s about accountability. About not forgetting the past, even the parts we’d rather ignore. About understanding that entering the Promised Land – both literally and metaphorically – requires more than just physical relocation. It requires a reckoning with who we were, and a commitment to becoming who we need to be.
It’s a tough message, delivered with a raw honesty that still resonates thousands of years later. And it makes you wonder: What “deserts” are we still carrying with us? What old grievances need to be addressed before we can truly cross our own personal Jordans?