The Torah portion of Haazinu consists largely of a 70-line shirah—a poetic song delivered by Moses to the Jewish People on the last day of his life, which functions as an eternal covenant that Moses entered the Jewish People into on that day.

The shirah is unique, unlike any other section in the Torah. Even the way it is written stands out: instead of the usual wide columns, each column is split into two narrow ones. The song is entirely poetic and quite cryptic; much has been written about its interpretations and symbolism. At its core, it is a prophecy about what will transpire for the Jewish People—the good and the bad—until the end of time.

The shirah is so significant and such a vital part of our heritage that, throughout the ages, parents would encourage—even cajole or sometimes bribe—their children to memorize it. In doing so, this covenant of testimony, which Moses gave to every man, woman, and child on the day of his passing, would be known by all.

Celestial and Terrestrial Witnesses

Moses begins, “Listen, O heavens, and I will speak! And let the earth hear the words of my mouth!”1 Moses is tasking Heaven and Earth with bearing witness to this covenant.

Why heaven and earth?

“I am but a human being of flesh and blood,” Moses said. “Tomorrow, I will have passed on. If the Jewish People say, ‘What covenant? We never took a covenant upon ourselves. Do you have proof?’ there will be nobody to refute them.”2 So, he calls upon heaven and earth to bear witness—these witnesses will exist forever; as long as there is a world, there will be Heaven and Earth.

In addition, Moses chose heaven and earth so that when the Jewish People adhere to the covenant—when they keep the Torah and mitzvot—it will be heaven and earth that give them their reward. “The vine will give its fruit, the earth will yield its produce, and the heavens will give their dew.”3 And when, G‑d forbid, the Jewish People forsake the covenant, the hand of the witnesses will inflict punishment upon them, as it says in the Shema prayer which we recite three times daily, “And He will close off the heaven that there will be no rain, and the soil will not give its produce.”4 There will be hunger, famine, and suffering, brought by the heavens and the earth.

History as a Guide

“Remember the days of old; reflect upon the years of [other] generations. Ask your father, and he will tell you; your elders and they will inform you,” the shirah continues.5

In other words: “Those were the days, my friend.” Remember them. Consider what happened in each passing generation. Those who do not learn from the mistakes of history are doomed to repeat them. Examine and learn from your history. And if you are too young to remember, ask your parents, grandparents, or the elders, and they will tell you.

Rashi explains that Moses is not only referring to biological parents and grandparents but also to spiritual ones—the prophets and the sages.

The fathers, grandfathers, prophets, and sages will tell you what G‑d Almighty did to those who angered Him in previous generations.

Consider the generation of Enosh. Enosh was Adam’s grandson, and idol worship began in his days. In describing how a G‑dly world could become idolatrous, Maimonides writes, “During the times of Enosh, mankind made a great mistake, and the wise men of that generation gave thoughtless counsel. Enosh himself was one of those who erred.”6 People began worshiping symbols of stars and planets, but they quickly dropped the symbolism, and the symbols themselves became the gods. And G‑d, in His anger, brought the lesser-known biblical flood—a tsunami of sorts—that flooded a third of the inhabited world, to punish the sinners.7

“When things are going well,” Moses warns, “When life is good and the economy is booming and you are comfortably settled in the Land of Israel, don’t forget about G‑d and wander off into exotic idol worship.” For the umpteenth time, Moses is warning the Jewish People not to be lured by the idolatrous practices of the Canaanites. Remember what happened to the previous generations that angered G‑d. If you want to know your future, look to your past.

But look hopefully to the future as well, said Moses. G‑d can and will do wondrously good things for you, bringing you to experience the days of Moshiach, the wonderful days of the World to Come.

G‑d’s Children

“Because the L-rd’s portion is His people Jacob, the lot of His inheritance.”8

Moses refers to Jacob, the third of the patriarchs, as the “lot of His inheritance.” Rashi, quoting the Midrash,9 explains that Jacob and his merits are like a rope, which in Hebrew shares a root with the word “inheritance.”

When the Jewish People sinned with the Golden Calf, G‑d wanted to destroy them and establish a new nation from Moses. Hearing this, Moses argued, “If a chair with three legs can’t stand, how is a chair with one leg going to stand? The Jewish people have three pillars: our forefathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The third, Jacob, is crowned with three merits. He is the only one who can claim to descend from both a righteous father and a righteous grandfather. While Isaac had a righteous father, he did not have a righteous grandfather, as Abraham’s father, Terah, was a seller of idols.

Jacob thus had a triple merit—the merit of his grandfather and father, as well as his own. Jacob was strong like a three-stranded rope: each strand may be weak on its own, but when twined together they become a strong core.

The great sage Rabbi Akiva, himself a descendant of converts, understood the greatness of every single human being. He said every person is created in the image of G‑d, and every human being is precious to G‑d. But the Jews have an added distinction—we are the children of G‑d. We, who descend from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, are G‑d’s children, the lot of His inheritance.

It is the Children of Israel—Jacob’s descendants—who have been selected with the responsibility to bring G‑d’s light into the world. Every Jew has a special mission given to us by G‑d, to illuminate not only our own house, our own family, our own people, but to bring light to the entire world.

In the Desert, Love Bloomed

“He found them in a desert land and a desolate, howling wasteland. He encompassed them and bestowed understanding upon them; He protected them as the pupil of His eye.”10

G‑d was overjoyed by our dedication to Him while we were in the desert. It was there that G‑d offered the Torah to all the nations but the Jewish People were the only ones to accept it.

We deserve a lot of credit, says Moses, for following G‑d into the barren, desolate, scorpion-filled desert.

It would have been understandable if the Jewish People said, “Moses, a desert? Are you kidding? You want us to leave civilization and follow you there?!”

But we didn’t say that, we didn’t bail on Moses, we followed him. Every year in the Rosh Hashanah prayers, we quote from Jeremiah: So said the L-rd, “I remember to you the lovingkindness of your youth, the love of your nuptials, your following Me in the desert, in a land not sown.”11

Hidden Blessing

“I will link evils upon them. I will use up My arrows on them.”12

On the surface, this appears to be a curse, part of Moses’ admonition of what will happen when the nation turns to sin. But dig a little deeper, explains Rashi, and this reveals a tremendous blessing. “I will use up my arrows,” G‑d says, “and you, My children, will still be around.”

In a similar vein, G‑d promises to destroy the Holy Temple when the Jews are undeserving, but He will not destroy us! “Instead of destroying the Jewish people, G‑d poured out His wrath on sticks and stones.”13

The Holy Temples may have been destroyed, we may have been exiled to the four corners of the earth, but the Jewish nation is eternal. We will always survive.

We have a tremendous protective shield: the merit of our forefathers. Every time we stand to pray the Amidah, the first thing we say is, “G‑d, you are the G‑d of our grandfathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” We have the protection of our zaidies, our grandfathers.

We are confident in G‑d’s protection, in His love, and in His treating us as His children, even—especially—in the face of national tragedy and pain.

With this shirah, Moses empowers us to hold on throughout all the generations. When the suffering hits us, when the calamities befall us, we take comfort in knowing that it was all predicted long ago—we have the shirah as a witness. And we know that good times will come, too.

Our ancestors experienced the destruction of the First and Second Temples. Our people have endured unspeakable suffering throughout the ages. Our grandparents survived the Holocaust. And in our time, we are experiencing the brutal savagery of Islamic terrorism.

The Rebbe repeatedly emphasized that good times and redemption are right around the corner; if we just listen closely, we can hear the footsteps of Moshiach.

We Will Be Avenged

At the end of the shirah, G‑d addresses the nations who dared to harm us: “Sing out praise, O you nations, for His people! For He will avenge the blood of His servants, inflict revenge upon His adversaries, and appease His land and His people.”14

Anyone who harms My people, says G‑d, will receive their just desserts. Yes, I predicted that nations would harm the Jews, but they went overboard and I will exact vengeance.

“I will intoxicate My arrows with blood, and My sword will consume flesh, from the blood of the slain and the captives, from the first breach of the enemy.”

This is G‑d’s message to those who have murdered the Jewish People for no reason; for those who take innocent Jews captive, for those who wreak death and destruction and calamity upon His children: You don’t mess with G‑d’s children and get away with it.

The last time I was privileged to spend Shabbat with my father, Rabbi Sholom B. Gordon, of blessed memory, was at his home in Maplewood, New Jersey, about six weeks before his passing.

We were on our way home from the synagogue on Friday night, and my father, weak from the illness that would soon take his life, struggled to walk. As we made our way down the road, we suddenly heard a booming voice shouting at us from across the street. “Forgive me! Forgive me!” a man shouted over and over. “Rabbi! Forgive me!”

At first, my father pointedly ignored him, but then he looked across the street at the man, and with a strength I didn’t imagine he had left, he said loudly, “I will not forgive you. I will not forgive you!” I was shocked, as I had never heard my father say that to anybody. My father was a gentle, loving soul.

But then my father explained. “That’s the captain,” he began. “He is an officer from the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. He once visited me in my office. He came to tell me that he can’t find peace. He became an alcoholic; he can’t sleep at night; he can’t live with himself. He is overcome with guilt for his role in the Holocaust. ‘You’re a rabbi,’ he said to me, ‘You’re a spiritual leader representing the Jewish People. I am filled with remorse; please forgive me.’”

“‘I will not forgive you,’ I said. ‘I can’t forgive you. How can I forgive you? Only G‑d can forgive you. I will not forgive you.’ He started drinking more and more, and whenever he sees me, he asks me to forgive him. But I cannot. Who are we to forgive the spilling of the innocent blood of six million Jews?”

This was Moses’ message to his people right before he passed away. We will not forgive those who spill innocent Jewish blood.

We will not forgive, and we will never forget.

And neither will G‑d.

That is the message we must always remember. For every calamity predicted by Moses in the shirah, we must remember that we will survive and our enemies will be dealt with. And most importantly, good times are coming.

“Remember the days of old; reflect upon the years of [other] generations.”

Good times are coming. They always do. Just ask your father and your grandfather.

May we merit to see all of the good that was promised, with the advent of the Ultimate Redemption, when “death will be swallowed up for eternity, and G‑d will wipe the tears off of all faces,”15 with the coming of our righteous Moshiach, may it be speedily in our days. Amen.