Parasha Ki Tavo The Most Understood Word

I’m going to open my sermon tonight with a trivia question. Everyone but Mark Sperling is invited to participate. No professionals allowed! Here is the question. Do you know the word in the English language that is most understood around the world? When you say this word, people in Europe understand it, people in South America understand it, and in Africa, and across the Middle and the Far East all understand this word. In fact, there are a few words that share this distinction.  “Coca-Cola” is apparently understood almost everywhere.  But I am not going to give a sermon on Coca-Cola. “OK” has become almost universal. The word “coffee” is recognized around the world.  However the answer to our trivia question is ……… Amen.   And in our Torah reading this week – Amen – in Hebrew “ah-mein”, appears 12 times in 12 consecutive verses.

The Israelites are about to enter the Land of Canaan. As the Israelites pass into the Land the Levites will shout a series of twelve warnings to the people. The warnings take the form of, “Cursed be the one who” …..followed by a particular transgression. After each transgression, the Israelites are to respond with – “amen”!  

The word “amen” itself is an affirmation. One definition of “amen” is “so be it”. If one adds the Hebrew letter “hey” to the end of the word, it yields the word “emunah” which means “faith” or “belief”. If you add the letter “nun” in front of it, it yields the word “ne-eh-man” which means “true”. So “amen” might be defined as “you better believe it!” or “true it is!”  

One rabbi in the Talmud understands the three-letter word to be an acronym. He teaches that each of the three letters in the word “amen” represent a word – The first letter, “alef”  represents the word “El” , meaning G-d; the second letter, “mem”  represents the word “melekh” meaning “King”;  the third letter “nun” represents the word “ne-ehman” meaning “true”.  Taken together we have a three word phrase – El Melekh Ne-aman” – G-d is the True King, which, he maintains is the meaning of the word.

Of course, we usually say “amen” after a blessing, not after a curse, as we have in this week’s Torah portion. Since the word “amen” is an affirmation of a statement, one who recites a blessing does not also add the “amen”. For example, one doesn’t recite “ha-motzi lechem min haaretz” and then add “amen” oneself. “Amen” is the response by one who hears the blessing recited by others.

“Amen” is a short word, but important enough that the rabbis went into some detail about the correct and incorrect ways of pronouncing it. They are critical of the person who draws out their “amen” so excessively that they ruin their pronunciation. Then there is the person whose “amen” is too short. Of the “too short” “amens” there are two variations. There is the person who fails to pronounce the final letter of the word, saying “amei” instead. Then there is the person who shortens the first vowel of the word, saying “eh-men” instead of “ah-men”. “Amen” -- not too short, not too long – just right.  

Maimonides teaches that if one hears a fellow Jew utter a blessing, one is obligated to respond “amen”. Even if one only hears part of the blessing, if one understands what the blessing is, one must respond with “amen”. It is a religious duty.  

A priest once visited the Israeli poet Yehudah Amichai, zichrono livracha, in Jerusalem. The priest was from the town in Germany where the poet was born. The priest brought him a triangular stone fragment from an ancient Jewish cemetery in that town. Clearly incised on the fragment was one word – amen.  It inspired the poet to write a short poem with that title.  It reads:

“On my table rests a stone, upon it the word “amen”/ a broken monument, a remnant from the Jewish cemetery that was destroyed more than a thousand years ago in the city where I was born. One word, amen, deeply engraved in the stone/ a hard and final amen over what was and will never be again/ amen soft and melodious like a prayer/ Amen, amen, so may it be your will.” 

The “amen” inscribed upon the stone fragment was, in fact, mute. But the poet invites us to imagine how it would sound if it could talk. Could it be an “amen” of protest or of resignation over the destruction of that cemetery? Or could it be the “amen” of prayer, plaintive and reflective? Could it be joyful, like the “amen” that comes at the conclusion of the shehechiyanu prayer? Could it be a mournful amen, like the response to the mourners’ kaddish? Could it be a thankful “amen” like those uttered in the Grace after Meals? Could it be a hopeful “amen” like that after a prayer for healing, or an awe-inspired “amen” like that said in response to a blessing over a wonder of nature.  

The “amen” incised on that stone fragment is what the rabbis of the Talmud might call an “orphaned amen”. An “orphaned amen” is an “amen” that is said to a blessing that one does not really hear. Like the “amen” on that stone fragment, an “orphaned amen” is an “amen” that has been severed from its blessing. That is not a legitimate “amen” say the rabbis, because one must understand what one is affirming before affirming it.  

Our “amens” should never be routine or perfunctory. Rather, they should be said with feeling, showing that we truly understand the blessing to which we are responding, and that we fully share the experience of the person who is reciting the blessing.  

There is one other “amen” I should mention. It the “amen” of relief that a congregation says after the rabbi concludes a sermon that has gone on a bit too long. To that, let us say. 

AMEN!