This morning, September 11th, I looked up at the clock after davening. I knew that bells would be tolling all over New York City at 8:47 am, in commemoration of the exact moment when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. Not a fraction of a second later, I heard a resonant and gut-piercing sequence of shofar blasts, the last ones I would hear until Yom Hadin, Rosh Hashannah. I realized that I fully participated in the annual American ritual, and at the same time, reminded myself of the larger picture – the one that punctuates this time of year.

Even though President Roosevelt declared December 7th as a “Day that will live in infamy,” it could be said that the attacks on New York and Washington were scarier and initiated a world war with greater global consequences. Many in the Jewish community pointed out that Tishah b’av – the national day of our historical mourning – also represents 9-11, as it falls on the 9th day of the 11th month.

Several years back I was walking through Yad Vashem in Israel, Israel’s Holocaust Memorial. They featured an entire wall commemorating ‘Kristallnacht.’ Using the European system where the day of the month precedes the month, November 9th – the day of Kristallnacht - was also presented as 9-11.

Parshas N’tzavim begins with Moshe addressing himself to all of Israel – from the patrician elders to the blue –collar laborers on the totem pole.  The parshah ends with Moshe’s famous plea that “this mitzvah that I command you today is not hidden from you and it is not distant. It is not in heaven, for you to say, ‘Who can ascend to the heaven for us and take it for us, so that we can listen to it and perform it?’ Nor is it across the sea, for you to say, ‘Who can cross to the other side of the sea for us and take it for us, so that we can listen to it and perform it?’ Rather, the matter is very near to you – in your mouth and your heart –to perform it” (Devarim 30:11-14). To which mitzvah does Moshe refer? Nachmanides and Rav Yosef Albo argue that Moshe specifically refers to the mitzvah of teshuva; others argue (the Sages in the Talmud – Eiruvin 55a; Bava Metzia 59b) that Moshe refers to observing all the laws of the Torah and the process by which we interpret Torah.

I certainly understand both of the above views. They both fit and make sense. Yet I thought of a third more homiletic interpretation, which may depart from the literal meaning. Our tradition teaches us that this soliloquy and those in the rest of the book of Devarim were uttered on Moshe’s last day on this earth. The Talmud (Eiruvin 55a) understood Moshe’s statement ‘it is not in heaven’ as referring to greatness not being found in those who are haughty. Moshe is described as the most humble man who ever walked the earth. Moshe was modest, but he also understood who he was. Moshe knew that upon his imminent death, people would panic because no future leader could ever measure up to him. He therefore assured the people that the most ordinary civilian can become the greatest of leaders. Many of our leaders were shepherds before they accepted their callings. Moshe therefore tells the nation, ‘it is not in heaven’ – it is not dependent on him – he who did indeed study Torah in heaven. [A Talmudic passage (Temurah 16a) advances in the name of Rav Yehuda and Shmuel that 3,000 laws were permanently forgotten during the days of mourning after Moshe’s death. The people beseeched Yehoshua to ask God to remind him of the forgotten laws and Joshua responded that the law is not in the heavens. Torah Temimah explains that Moshe’s Torah was indeed learned in heaven, so the phrase would be moot in his case.] He declared that ‘one need not cross the oceans.’ Moshe’s very name describes how he was saved from water by the daughter of Pharaoh.

I believe that perhaps Moshe was also telling the frightened Jewish people that every one of them can be a leader. One need not be Moshe Rabbeinu to lead; obtaining the tools and abilities to lead are accessible to every Jew. So many of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach’s stories – or Chassidic stories in general – are about ‘Moishele the Water Carrier’ or other simple Jews who perform the greatest of feats.  Much of the inspiration and significance of the Chassidic movement was that it provided hope to every Jew to become great – from the wood chopper to the water carrier.

Since Moshe’s death, Jewish leaders who were inferior to Moshe accepted the mantle to lead. A Talmudic passage (Rosh Hashanah 25a-b) makes this point clear. Using a series of textual allusions in verses, the Talmud concludes, “Yeruvaal in his generation is compared to Moshe in his; B’dan in his generation is compared to Aaron in his; Yiftach in his generation is compared to Shmuel in his.”

When thinking of Jewish leadership in difficult times and individuals who were not born on a silver platter, another great Jewish leader comes to mind: Rabbi Akiva. Illiterate until he was 40, he became the greatest sage of his day and the comforter of the people during a time of unspeakable persecution. The Talmud (Menachos 29b) relates that HASHEM supernaturally transported Moshe to Rabbi Akiva’s classroom many centuries later and when he realized that he could not follow Rabbi Akiva’s lesson, he asked God, “Why did you not choose him to be the lawgiver?”

When analyzing Moshe’s allusions to ‘crossing the sea’ and ‘ascending the heavens’ I too thought of the leadership of Rabbi Akiva.

A few versus later the Torah states: “I bring testimony today from the heavens and the earth that life and death I placed before you with blessings and curses; choose life so you and your children shall live” (Devarim 30:19). The Talmud (Kiddushin 29a) states the responsibilities a father has to a child. An unnamed ‘other opinion’ states that a father must also teach his child to swim. The Jerusalem Talmud (Kiddushin 1:7) identifies Rabbi Akiva as that unnamed source basing himself on the above verse, “choose life.” We now see that Rabbi Akiva felt that indeed we should be able to cross the oceans. I am not familiar with any statements by Rabbi Akiva regarding space travel, but we all know his famous ruling that when traveling in the desert with very little water, one needs to hydrate himself first  (Bava Metzia 62a). Rabbi Akiva was that unlikely Jewish hero, who, after witnessing the horrific actions of 9/11/70 – i.e. the destruction of the Second Temple - was able to lead his people and provide them with hope. I’m sure when he was tending to sheep as an unlettered Jew in his 30s, many people would have lost bets as to Rabbi Akiva being the next leader of world Jewry.

In a Newsweek story about Oliver Stone’s move “World Trade Center,” (which was released in 2006 – EK) Evan Thomas and Andrew Romano chronicled how ‘ordinary Americans’ are transformed into heroes during trying times. They write: “The triumph of the Common Man is a myth deeply rooted in American culture, and unlike some popular myths, it is true enough. Tom Hanks may have played a fictional character in ‘Saving Private Ryan ‘ – the small town American called to arms – but World War II was won by a million citizen soldiers very much like him….The myth of the Triumph of the Common Man was born in the first battle of the Revolution, when farmers and tradesmen made their stand against British Redcoats at Lexington and Concord in April 1775. These Minutemen were our first citizen soldiers, and their example still inspires…”

Parshiyos Netzavim and Vayelech, addressing themselves to the average Moshe or Sarah, talk of hope despite its prediction of future sorrow. In every one of our 9-11s – whether 14 years ago, seventy years ago, or 2,000 years ago – we are pushed to the limit to see if the ‘average Jew’ can become a great hero. I believe that Moshe tells us that every generation will produce its Rabbi Akiva, its Sam Adams, its Mordechai Anelewitz or its NYPD and NYFD officers. Rabbi Akiva’s life also teaches us that those who lost their lives in the struggle must be immortalized as heroes as well. Halacha reserves a very special place for those who die al Kiddush HASHEM – as heroes.

As we remember those who perished on that day of infamy fourteen years ago, let us not forget that they too – the water carriers and woodsmen – were heroes.

“Rather, the matter is very near to you – in your mouth and your heart –to perform it.” Torah is close to us; repentance is nearby; greatness is just around the corner. A prudent message for this last Shabbos and week of the year!