With less than two weeks until Rosh Hashanah, the theme of teshuva begins to take centre stage. While the cycle of Torah reading--and for that matter, the obligation of public Torah reading itself--is only rabbinic in nature, the parshiot at the end of Devarim mesh nicely with the themes of the Yamim Noraim. Moshe Rabbeinu's focus in these last few parshiot is to get the nation ready for entry into a new land.
Over and over, Moshe stresses that our actions matter and we will be judged accordingly. The Jewish people were to learn from their past mistakes, using these experiences as they moved forward to the next stage in their history. If not, they would be unable to stay in the land. What is true on a national level is equally true on a personal level.
"These are the words of the covenant that G-d commanded Moshe to establish with the Jewish people in the land of Moav, in addition to the covenant that He established with them in Horev" (Devarim 28:69). What the Torah does not explain is, in what way this covenant was different than that one entered into at Sinai? More fundamentally, why was there a need for a second covenant? Was there something missing from the covenant at Sinai? And if one would argue that the people entering the land did not themselves enter into the original covenant and hence, needed their own separate covenant, such would negate the entire purpose of a covenant. A covenant is, by definition, binding not only on those who enter into such, but unto subsequent generations.
The Malbim explains that the covenant at Sinai was accepted out of fear. As our Sages explain, "G-d held the mountain over our head, and said: if you accept it, fine; and if not, there will be your burial place" (Shabbat 88a). The most powerful country in the world had been brought to its knees, and all were in fear of this hitherto unknown G-d. What choice did the Jewish people have? They were on the receiving end of the Torah, whether they liked it or not.
Forty years later, the Jewish people accepted the covenant out of love. Performing mitzvoth because we want to is a much different and greater experience than doing so because we have to. While our Sages teach that "greater [is the reward] for one who is commanded, more than the one who is not commanded", such is only because it is much easier to be a volunteer than having an obligation to do something, day in and day out. The former come and go as they please, while the latter must do it whether they want to or not. But one may perform an obligation out of love...or 'kicking and screaming'.
The Malbim notes that the language of the Torah reflects this dichotomy of attitude. In Parshat Bechukotai, where the first affirmation of the covenant is spelled out, it reads like a contractual agreement. One obeys the commands and is rewarded for such. "Im bechukati teileelchu, If you follow my statutes" refers to one who performs mitzvoth as a chok, without attempting to understand the rationale. "And you do them"--not because you truly care what the mitzvah is, but because it is a command of G-d. One should give tzedakah not because it's a mitzvah, but because one wants to help the poor. Chesed is a way to benefit others, not a method to chalk up another mitzvah.
Forty years later, we "listen to the voice of G-d, to observe to perform all of His commandments" (Devarim 28:1). We hear the inner call of the mitzvoth, and follow out of love of mitzvoth. In the first covenant, the rewards are rain, produce, and victory over one's enemies. These are wonderful, but lack the relationship of, "Blessed you shall be in the city, and blessed you shall be in the field...blessed when you come in, and blessed when you go out".
As we prepare for the Yamim Noraim, we can repent out of fear or repent out of love. Either of those is much better than not repenting at all; but we must strive to listen to G-d, not (only) because we fear His wrath, but because we desire His presence.
[1] Ezra the scribe ordained that this covenant be read just before Rosh Hashanah so that we are inspired to affirm the covenant and thus, "the end of the year should be the end of the curses" (Megillah 31b). And it is inspiration from love that we seek.
While today, this Torah reading happens naturally, in Talmudic times, the Torah reading was completed only once every three years, so such necessitated a special reading.
