Bob Dylan & Ha’azinu: Listening to the Music

On Yom Kippur, we were “Knockin' on Heaven's Door” in the hopes that with all the difficulties we are experiencing, “The Times They Are A-Changin’.”

The above sentiments are song titles of Shabsi Zisel ben Avraham, better known as Bob Dylan. I enjoy – and am even moved – by some of Dylan’s songs. He is also pretty cool and mysterious. He’s an enigma. Dylan’s religious odyssey makes for an interesting story, and he’s one of the few rock icons who had his son’s Bar Mitzvah at the Kotel and played Hava Nagila on the harmonica on a Chabad telethon. His son-in-law, musician Peter Himmleman, is an observant Jew.

Dylan, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016, is unique in that his songs have been analyzed for the deeper meaning of the lyrics. Professors of literature dissected Dylan’s imagery and significance in ways which they have never done with George Gershwin or Irving Berlin. People search for biblical, religious, and even mystical allusions. No doubt they can be found if the seeker uses their imagination. Whether they were intended by the author is another matter.

This week’s parsha, Ha’azinu, is a song which contains depth, meaning, and beauty.

וַיָּבֹא מֹשֶׁה וַיְדַבֵּר אֶת כָּל דִּבְרֵי הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת בְּאָזְנֵי הָעָם הוּא וְהוֹשֵׁעַ בִּן נוּן:

Moshe came, together with Hosea son of Nun, and recited all the words of this song in the ears of the people. (Devarim 32:44).

What exactly is THIS song?

On a simple level, the song is the parsha. Ha’azinu is an enigmatic song. It describes the ups and downs of the Jewish experience. One the one hand, Jews are special and are admonished to follow God. On the other hand, there will be difficult patches. It is like a song that has a rough edge – like punk rock. You like the beat, but some of the lyrics can rub you the wrong way.

On a deeper level, the whole Torah is a song. Songs are an amalgam of lyrics and music. Some songs have lyrics that would qualify as a good poem without the music and some songs have music that would be just as good with no words at all. Yet when there is a combination of quality lyrics with good music, both aspects are enhanced.

The Torah is a multi-faceted, complex song. It is much more than a narrative or a book of laws. There are rhyme, rhythm, and poetry. The Torah contains a rich tapestry that is full of life, meaning, energy, and inspiration.

The Talmud (Megillah 32a) teaches that one is censured for reading the Torah without a melody or studying Mishnah without a tune. It is not only when the Torah is read publicly that there is musical cantillation. Enter any study hall and you will hear the traditional sounds of students exchanging ideas through the medium of melody. We sing the song of Torah all the time.

The Torah ends with a song because Moshe knew that music ensures the future of the Jewish people. It is the song which will enable the message of God to endure for all the generations to come. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks captures the power of song: Music speaks to something deeper than the mind. It speaks to the soul.

Rabbi Ally Ehrman, an educator in Israel, shares a story he heard from a Yeshivat Hakotel alumnus.

A Yeshivat Hakotel student’s parents lived in Israel and hosted their son’s entire class for a Shiur Shabbaton. The only "rule" was that each student had to give a d'var Torah at some point over Shabbat.  At Seudah Shlishit, the last student to present was older than the others in the group. He said that, instead of a dvar Torah, he wanted to tell his story.

I grew up in what is often described as an ultra-Orthodox community and attended a prestigious yeshiva. I had a bad experience with some of my teachers and began to question my religious lifestyle. I left the community and much of my observance. I headed to the West Coast and ended up in Venice Beach California, a far cry from where I came from.

Late one Friday night, I was wandering aimlessly on the beach when a tune in the distance caught my ear, and it sounded strangely familiar to me. It was the niggun, “Dovid melech, melech Yisroel…siman, siman tov…mazal, mazal tov..”

You can imagine my shock when I discovered that the mystery singer was a non-Jewish, homeless, African-American man sitting on the beach. I asked him how he knew that tune. He explained that, years earlier, he had met a Rabbi by the name of Shlomo Carlebach. This rabbi was nice to him and would give him a few dollars and spend some time with him and sing a little to cheer him up. It worked and the tunes stuck.

I didn't know much about Reb Shlomo at the time, but I did recognize the niggunim and was touched by this man's story. I decided that I would visit my new homeless friend and sing with him. This got me thinking about the way of life I left behind, and the rest is history…

Needless to say - everyone in the room was SHOCKED... and inspired. The power of a song.

This Shabbat, we sing the song of the Torah, of Jewish life. Life is a song. Just as we each play different roles, we hear the music differently. Similarly, there are lots of instruments, notes, lyrics, and sounds. Sometimes, they are all in harmony, and sometimes, things are out of tune. Whether you like Bob Dylan or Shlomo Carlebach or Fill in the Blank, there is so much beautiful music to be heard in our lives and in our Judaism.

The answers my friends are not “Blowin’ in the Wind,” but meaning can be found by listening to the music. We must try to listen to the song of celebration, the beautiful music of everyday life, the song of family and friends, the song of those in need, and the song of Torah and Judaism.

Let’s conclude paraphrasing Shabsi Zisel ben Avraham’s “Forever Young:”

May God bless and keep us always. May our wishes all come true. May we always do for others and let others do for you. May we always be courageous, stand upright and be strong. And may our song always be sung.

And, with Sukkot approaching, let us NOT experience “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.”