Mosheh wants us to live.

We don’t get the climactic statements of it quite yet, but the book of Dəvarim, Mosheh’s long valedictory orations, is full of exhortations to the Israelites to choose life over death. It’s an exhortation that, in a way, positions life as something not quite here yet, something just over the next horizon, something to be stretched towards instead of something already achieved. Which is strange and wonderful, and also in tension with one of the verses in this week’s portion.

After all, in Dəvarim 4:4, Mosheh reminds us that וְאַתֶּם֙ הַדְּבֵקִ֔ים בַּיי֖ אֱלֹקֵיכֶ֑ם חַיִּ֥ים כֻּלְּכֶ֖ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ | və’atem hadəveiqim b[ASHEIM] Elo[q]eikhem ḥayim kuləkhem hayom. | “you who are clinging to THE NAME, your G-d, you are all alive today.” It’s one of those classic Deuteronomistic deictics: Today, you yourselves are alive, you who cling to your G-d.

What is it about clinging that brings life from the future to the present?

Clinging is a slightly unexpected word here. We might more typically expect something like following or loving or obeying — we just had going after used a verse earlier to talk about following other g-ds, and elsewhere in this very parashah, we get, in short succession, the Shəma’s iconic insistence on obedience and the Və’ahavta’s command to love. But here we get none of those and find clinging instead. Which is a little odd, since Dəvarim is normally so insistent on an intangible, non-material G-d. How do you hold fast to something that has no substance?

An interesting thing about the Hebrew verb for clinging, davaq, is that it is a very slight anagram of a different verb, badaq, which means to mend or repair. So instead of אָתֶּם הַדְּבֵקִים | atem hadəveiqim | “you who are clinging”, we can read אַתֶּם הַבְּדֵקִים | atem habədeiqim | “you who are repairing”. Repairing what?

An interesting thing about the four-letter name of G-d when prefixed by the preposition “bə” is that in gematria, it has a value of 28, which, it turns out, is the same value as חֲטָאֵי | ḥata’ei | “the sins of”. Putting this together, then, we can read Dəvarim 4:4 as וְאַתֶּם֙ הַבְּדֵקִ֔ים חַטָאֵ֖י אֱלֹהֵיכָ֑ם חַיִּ֥ים כִּלְּכֶ֖ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ | və’atem habədeiqim ḥata’ei Elo[q]eikhem ḥayim kuləkhem hayom. | “you who are repairing the sins of your G-d, you are all alive today.”

A first consolation, then: Even G-d sometimes sins. But a missed mark, even a Divine one, doesn’t have to be the end of the story. Repair is possible. Mending is possible. Healing is possible. We may find a world frayed and shattered, we may fray and shatter it ourselves at times, but we have darning needles, we have glue. It is possible to change.

Let us rearrange this verse a little further, then: Today, at least, you are alive. G-d has sinned, has failed in stewardship of this most beautiful world. You — a plural, collective you, a communal you, a you not cut off from the tapestry of others — are working on repairs, today, now, while you are still alive. For as long as you are still alive.

Maybe you will be alive again tomorrow, too.

[This has been an installment of one-word Torah. You can read the full series here.]