Our tradition is full of fascinating interpretations of seemingly simple phrases. Take, for instance, the verse in Deuteronomy (32:2), "Let my teaching drop as the rain." The Sifrei Devarim, a collection of early rabbinic legal interpretations on the Book of Deuteronomy, dives deep into this verse, unearthing layers of meaning we might otherwise miss.
One interpretation, attributed to R. Eliezer the son of R. Yossi Haglili, focuses on the word "ya'arof," translated here as "drop." But, he says, ya'arof can also connote "killing." He then cleverly connects this to the ritual of the eglah arufah, the heifer whose neck is broken (ve'arfu) in atonement for an unsolved murder, as described in Deuteronomy 21:4. Just as that heifer atones for bloodshed, so, too, do the words of Torah. Powerful, right? The Torah, in a way, atones. It cleanses.
Another interpretation sees a parallel between Torah study and the se'irim, the he-goats offered as sacrifices for transgressions. Just as these sacrifices atone, so too, do the words of Torah. Think about that for a second. The act of engaging with Torah – studying it, grappling with it, internalizing it – is seen as a form of atonement itself!
But the Sifrei Devarim doesn't stop there. It offers yet another compelling reading. This time, the verse becomes a reflection on Moses's own arduous journey in receiving the Torah. Moses is essentially saying to the Israelites: "Do you even know the suffering, the 'breaking' (again, ya'arof), I endured to bring you this Torah? How much I toiled, how much I wearied myself?"
Remember that powerful image of Moses on Mount Sinai for forty days and forty nights (Exodus 34:28)? The Sifrei Devarim paints an even more vivid picture. Moses wasn't just alone on a mountain; he was among angels, heavenly creatures, even the fiery seraphim – beings so powerful that, as Isaiah 6:2 tells us, one of them could incinerate the entire world! He literally gave his life, his very blood, for the Torah. He learned it in travail, and therefore, so must we.
But here's the kicker: does that mean we should only teach it in travail? Should learning and teaching Torah always be a painful, difficult process? The text anticipates this question. That's why the verse continues, "My word shall flow (tizal) as the dew." The Sifrei Devarim cleverly connects tizal to the word "zol," meaning "cheap." See the Torah as "zol," cheap, readily available, a third or a fourth of a sela (an ancient coin). In other words, share it freely! Don't hoard it!
So, what's the takeaway here? The Torah was acquired through immense effort and sacrifice, yes. But it's not meant to be kept locked away. It's meant to be shared, to flow like dew, accessible to all. It’s a beautiful paradox: appreciate the profound depth and effort behind it, but also recognize its inherent availability and the importance of making it accessible to others. It reminds us that true wisdom is not just about acquiring knowledge, but about sharing it, making it "cheap" in the best sense of the word – readily available and freely given.