Ha'azinu: The Rock We Must Not Forget

The Advice that Boomeranged

Zack was in trouble. He owed a man a large sum of money and, minor detail, had no way to pay it back. So he did what any sensible person would do in such a situation—he went to his friend Shlomo for advice.

Shlomo, who prided himself on his creative thinking (not to be confused with good judgment), leaned in conspiratorially. “Listen,” he said, “when you see the guy, act crazy. Whistle, dance, make a scene—he’ll take one look at you and decide you’re not worth the trouble.”

Zack tried it. The next time he ran into his creditor, he launched into an impromptu jig, whistling a tune only he could hear. He waved his arms like he was swatting invisible bees. The lender took a long, careful look at Zack, sighed, and decided that some battles weren’t worth fighting. Just like that, Zack was off the hook.

A few days later, Zack found himself short on cash again. This time, he went to Shlomo. “Just for a few days,” Zack assured him. “I’ll pay you back right away.”

Shlomo, being a generous friend (and conveniently forgetting that Zack’s financial history was questionable at best), handed over the money.

 Then came payday. Shlomo showed up to collect, and Zack—well, Zack did what worked last time. He started whistling, twirling, waving his arms, the whole act.

Shlomo took a step back, folded his arms, and gave Zack a look that could turn wine into vinegar. Then, without a word, he jabbed Zack—hard—right in the ribs.

“You idiot,” Shlomo hissed. “I taught you that trick! And you’re trying to use it on me?”

The Blessing We Dare Not Misuse

In his final song, Ha’azinu, Moses warns the people of a danger more insidious than enemies or exile: the slow, creeping amnesia of prosperity. When life is good, when wealth abounds, it is all too easy to forget where it came from. “The Rock who created you—you ignored; you forgot the God who formed you” (Deut. 32:18).

But why the repetition? Is not forgetting God the same as ignoring Him?

There is, says the Rambam, a divine kindness embedded in human nature: the gift of forgetfulness. Without it, we would be prisoners of our past, weighed down by every sorrow, every failure, every grief. Life would be unbearable. Forgetfulness is God’s way of allowing us to heal, to move forward, to begin again.

But what happens when we take this blessing and misuse it? When we do not just forget pain but purpose? Not just sorrow, but the Source of all joy? That, says the Torah, is the great betrayal. The Rock who made you forget—God gave you this gift to lighten your burden. And you forgot the God who formed you—and you turned it against the very One who gave it.

Forgetfulness can be a blessing. But only if we remember what truly matters.

(Adapted from Mishlei Ya'akov, p. 486)