Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Parsha Ki Tavo, Deuteronomy 26:1-29:8.

Ki Tavo is one of the most well-known parshiot in the rabbinic tradition and certainly one of the most oft-quoted. This is the parsha of Blessings and Curses, a great litany of the ills that will befall those who do wrong and the benefits following those who keep the mitzvot. I have personally heard those passages read and interpreted by several rabbis, yet I've never heard one reading that I feel captures the true essence of what this parsha is trying to say, or for that matter how it goes about saying it.

I often write about the importance of context to the exegesis of the Torah. The real challenge of these scriptures is understanding that it's not just a matter of one context, or even a handful, but the context of everything. Each passage out of the Torah exists on a great net of interconnected elements, some more obvious than others. There are historical conditions to consider in addition to other stories in the Torah, folklore from outside the Torah and, in this parsha specifically, an entire poetic language weaving throughout the lines. We so often read Torah as one homogeneous chunk of scripture that we ignore drastic shifts in form that occur at important moments like Blessings and Curses.

Ki Tavo has a distinctly florid tone where much of the Torah is rather matter-of-fact. This parsha is not a chronicle or a parable, it's a song or a poem. As such, literal interpretation is more than a little obtuse. Taken at face value, Ki Tavo promises epic plagues that match or even trump those visited upon Egypt in Exodus to the sinners of Israel and it offers paradise to its righteous ones. There is no value whatsoever in a direct application of these words.

Similarly, we should not take Blessings and Curses as a promise that God is simply a device that dispenses rewards and punishments predictably. We have the rest of the Torah as evidence to the contrary. Ki Tavo, in very symbolic language, is attempting to impress upon its readers a sense of what they carry with them when they go about their lives. When we act unjustly or foster cruelty, we cultivate hatred and ruin, not as an arbitrary punishment from on high but as a matter of course. The worker with an unsympathetic boss grows spiteful and the company suffers; the parent who neglects his or her child ensures the loss of love and cooperation.

We need no divine intervention to see our actions result in blessings and curses, which is why the Torah takes such poetic tones in Ki Tavo. Stylistically, it makes more sense to push melodrama than to speak literally about the need for daily righteousness. One can't simply cap an epic story about God, prophets and miracles with a sober sermon about responsibility. So, read Ki Tavo as a passionate song. It has infinitely more value as an appeal to the emotions and imaginations of readers than any actual attempt to motivate behavior with bribes and boogeymen.