A Citizen's Responsibility

 Vayera

Gen. 18:1-22:24         

 

Précis: God “appeared” (vayera) to Abraham in the form of three travelers to whom Abraham shows hospitality. They promise the birth of Isaac, overheard by Sarah (who laughs). God reveals His plans for the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and Abraham argues for its salvation. The scene shifts to Sodom where Lot and his family are rescued, although Lot’s wife glances back and turns into the pillar of salt. 

Back with Abraham, Sarah conceives and gives birth to Isaac. She becomes unhappy with the continued presence of Ishmael and prevails upon Abraham to expel Ishmael and Hagar from the household. Thereafter, the story continues with the attempted sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham, called “the Akedah” (the Binding of Isaac).

 

Gen. 18:23-33 “Abraham came forward and said, ‘Will you sweep away the innocent along with the guilty? What if there be fifty innocents within the city…? Far be it from You to do such a thing, to bring death to the innocent as well as the guilty…’  And Adonai said, ‘I will forgive the whole place for their sake.’ And Abraham said, ‘What if the 50 innocents will lack five? Will you destroy the whole city for want of the five?’”

 

What was so horrid about the society in Sodom that the entire population – including any innocent individuals – merited destruction? According to A Torah Commentary for our Times (ed. Harvey J. Fields) traditional commentators offered a variety of explanations. The citizens of Sodom refused to share their wealth with others; they deliberately made the lives of those in need more miserable; they refused to care for the ill, the poor, or the needy. 

One modern answer might be that in the fight against evil, “collateral damage” of innocents is inevitable and is the cost of doing what is right. There is another meaningful viewpoint: we are each responsible for the societies in which we live and a failure to fight against evils makes us culpable. Here, the lack of protests by the citizens against Sodom's immorality implies that no such opposition existed. All were culpable.

Israelis went to the polls this week with unclear results, and Americans are going to the polls now and in the next few weeks. Both countries have leaders whose actions and motives are far from beyond reproach. I suggest that this week’s reading provides an impetus (if one is needed) to vote and express our demand for adherence to what is good and what is just. 

The Challenge of Great Wealth

Lech Lecha

Gen. 12:1 -17:27

 

Précis: This parasha, “get you up” or “go yourself” (lech lecha) begins with “the call” of Abram to leave his home and depart for a new land. At God’s command, Abram and Sarai journey to Canaan. When famine strikes, they travel to Egypt, where Sarai is taken into Pharaoh’s harem after Abram calls her his “sister,” but she escapes without harm. To avoid family squabbles, Abram separates himself from his nephew Lot (who moves to Sodom). Because Sarai is barren, she offers Abram her servant (Hagar), and Hagar gives birth to a son, Ishmael. Abram is then promised a son through Sarai, to be his true heir. Abram’s name is changed to Abraham, and Sarai’s to Sarah, in recognition of the new Covenant with God, which is then symbolized by Abraham’s circumcision.

 

Gen. 13:1-2 “From Egypt, Abram went up into the Negeb, with his wife and all that he possessed together with Lot. Now Abram was very rich in cattle, silver and gold.”

            The Hebrew word we translate as “rich” is “kaved” which literally has the meaning of “heavy” or “burdened.” Etz Hayyim reminds us that the Rabbis opined that great wealth can be a heavy burden, because the wealthy individual is challenged to use wealth wisely and responsibly.

            At a time when wealth is increasingly (and almost incredibly) concentrated in fewer and fewer individuals, we see the rise of an “oligarchy” unmatched since the end of the 19^th century’s so-called “Golden Age.” According to a Federal Reserve report in 2026, the top 1% of U.S. households hold between 32% and 35% of total national wealth. More significantly, the top 0.1% of US households hold 13.9% of America's wealth. Are they using it “wisely and responsibly?"

            Some of these super-rich have engaged in praiseworthy philanthropic actions, helping to bring healthcare to millions, endowing research universities with unprecedented gifts, and supporting cultural institutions. Others, however, have spent vast sums on gigantic homesteads, conspicuous displays of self-aggrandizement, and perhaps worst of all, have attempted to extend their financial power into the political arena through acquisition of media outlets and limitless donations to candidates.

            Abram demonstrated that great wealth can lead to the kind of moral integrity making the individual a “dugmah” (praiseworthy example). Ask yourself whether Bezos or Musk can make such a claim. Ask how oligarchs who support authoritarians like Putin can make a plausible claim that their actions are “wise” or “responsible.”

The meaning of lawlessness

Noach

Gen 6:9-11:32

Précis: The story of Noah (Hebrew: Noach) and the Flood appear in this parasha. Noah, called by God, builds the Ark and collects the animals. It rains for forty days and nights. Noah and his family are saved, and afterward leave the Ark, build an altar, and make sacrifices. God sets a rainbow as a promise not to destroy mankind again. Noah plants a vineyard, makes wine, and becomes drunk. An odd incident with sexual overtones takes place with his sons. The story of the Tower of Babel is included in this parasha, and it ends with a genealogy of the ancient peoples of the Bible, concluding with Abram. 

Gen. 6:11 “The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness.”

 

As is noted in Etz Hayyim, the Jerusalem Talmud understands the word translated as “lawlessness” (hamas) to mean that people cheated each other for such small sums that the courts could not prosecute them (JTBM 4:2).  [Aside: I've discussed the ironic meaning of this particular Hebrew word previously.]

The inability of the courts to deal with minor judicial matters, the Talmud relates, caused people to lose faith in the power of government to provide them with a fair and livable world, and society began to slip into anarchy.

It does not require a society to engage in seriously egregious behaviors to become “lawless” as the phrase is used here, although serious divergence from the ethical mandates of Torah inevitably result in hamas. We learned several decades ago that limiting graffiti (itself a relatively minor matter) can have the effect of reducing more serious crimes. When small crimes become common (and accepted) the road towards hamas has been paved.

If, as the Sages opine, lawlessness increases when crimes are too small to be justiciable, how much greater is lawlessness when the judicial system itself is undermined and perverted? How great does hamas become when the ruler's whim becomes the defining measure of judicial behavior? 

The rule of law begins an uninterrupted decline towards hamas (also defined as chaos) when the system of justice is undermined by the ruling classes.

Very Good

Bereshit

Gen. 1:1 - 6:8

 

Précis: The first Book of the Torah, Bereshit (Genesis, literally “in the beginning” or “When God began to create”) begins with the familiar story of creation. The world is created in six days and God rests on the seventh. The stories of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden are included, as is the story of Cain and Abel.

 

Gen. 1:3-4, 31“God said, ‘Let there be light’ and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness… God saw everything that God had made, and indeed, it was very good.'” 

             

Rabbi Lea Mühlstein has offered an insight on these opening phrases of Bereshit (10 Minutes of Torah, 10/13/25). At its start, creation unfolds with purposes: order out of chaos is “good.” Light and the seas and the Earth itself are “good.” It is only at the end of ​creation (including humans) that God look​s at everything together and call​s it tov me’od (very​ good).

According to Rashi, the world is not “very” good until it contains humans with the power to choose and act. Later thinkers ​also stressed human responsibility. As Franz Rosenzweig taught in “The Star of Redemption,” creation is not a finished event, but rather an ongoing process. Creation does not end in Bereshit; it continues when human beings take responsibility for the world. In other words, God declares creation “very good” not because it is finished but because it has been entrusted to us.

This stewardship is eternal, and we emphasize it as we begin another year of the Torah cycle. Mühlstein challenges us: in this year, what light must we identify? How must we separate darkness from goodness? How will we affirm what is tov me’od for our communities, for the Jewish People, and for the world?

 

 --

Some Assembly Required

SHMINI ATZERET

Deut. 14:22-16:17

Num. 28:35-30:1

On Shmini Atzeret, we read about tithing, the remission of debts and sacrifices for this holiday. Shmini Atzeret is perhaps the least well-understood major Jewish holiday, and I would guess that only a minority of Jews know why it is celebrated. (Actually, traditional commentators are similarly at a loss to explain why we celebrate this holiday.)

                One meaning of “Atzeret” is “assembly,” from the Hebrew root meaning to gather. We have certainly gathered as a Jewish community during the past month for the High Holy Days and Sukkot, but we have yet another opportunity to draw together. Some of us do so by visiting the sukkot of friends and neighbors, others by attending services in shul. Nevertheless, we are together even while we as a people face unprecedented struggles.

Bill McKibben, a professor at Middlebury College, wrote in the New York Times on Monday that "an irrational response [to the challenges we face] would be to try to ignore [them]. Many folks are doing so.  However, this kind of avoidance will just get us in deeper trouble by ceding control to those who profit from it, so I hope we won’t choose quietism or escape."

                To me, the meaning of “assembly” is found in community. We have communities in our congregations, in Israel, and in the Jewish People around the world, regardless of the divisions we have among ourselves. Some are currently reluctant to publicly declare their membership in our community out of fear of antisemitism or “othering.” I take this holiday’s core message to be a reassuring statement of the unity of the Jewish People, and I rejoice in 3,000 years of assembly. Am Yisrael Chai b'yachad.

 

Sukkot and Kohelet

Sukkot and Kohelet

Ec. 2:24-26 “There is nothing worthwhile for a man but to eat and drink and afford himself enjoyment with his means. And even that, I noted, comes from God. For who eats and who enjoys but himself? To the man, namely, who pleases Him He has given the wisdom and shrewdness to enjoy himself…”

Ec. 8:15  "I therefore praised happiness. For the only good a person can have under the sun is to eat and drink and enjoy..."

 

On Sukkot, we are commanded to be joyful. Ironically, on this joyful holiday we traditionally read the book of Ecclesiastes (Kohelet), a book which is far from joy-inducing. A brief history of the book follows.

Kohelet (Ecclesiastes is from the Greek word meaning assembly) is not prophetic or an attempt to communicate God's words, but rather insights into life in the world from an entirely human perspective. It is often considered part of “Wisdom Literature." For much of history, the word Kohelet was translated as “Preacher.” However, given the quasi-religious character of that ​term, the word ​usually has been replaced with “Teacher.” Unlike some other Wisdom books, its concepts do not derive from knowledge acquired by generations of thinkers, but rather is (at least textually) from a single author.    

Authorship is traditionally ascribed to King Solomon, since the opening chapters describe the author as a “Son of David” and “King over Israel.” Modern scholarship rejects this origin story, arguing that Kohelet is a work in the “pseudepigraphical tradition” (using the name of a well-known sage to add gravitas to its composition). While there is no scholarly consensus on its origin, the inclusion of Persian loan-words, Aramaic grammatical forms and Hellenistic thought suggest that it was written around 240 BCE, or 700 years after Solomon’s rule. This is supported by the existence of similar literary works in Mesopotamia and Egypt in that time frame.   

Nevertheless, Kohelet has been part of the Hebrew Bible since its canonization early in the first millennium (even though its inclusion was a source of argument several centuries before between the schools of Shammai and Hillel, with Hillel winning the debate as usual). It is probable that without ascribing the book to Solomon, it would not have been part of our Biblical tradition. From a historical point of view, the adoption of the concepts of an afterlife and resurrection by rabbinic thinkers​ prior to and in the Mishnaic/Talmudic era​ (ideas rejected by Kohelet) helps make the case for Kohelet’s writing and adoption prior to the second century BCE​.

Kohelet is most well-known for its emphasis on a nihilistic worldview, stating that all human life is "vain," "futile," "empty" and "meaningless."  The author promotes wisdom to make life meaningful, and urges enjoyment of life through simple pleasures (eating, drinking, and physical love)​, all of which are gifts from God. 

Kohelet’s insights seem at first (or second or third) reading to be contrary to traditional Jewish thought (at least as explained by the rabbis) in other significant ways. ​Our received tradition posits that life is good, that evil is punished and that good behavior is rewarded. Kohelet maintains that life is meaningless and that in the end, all of us — wise and foolish, righteous and wicked, rich and poor — die. 

            So, to review the question I implied at the outset. Why read this book on a holiday when we are commanded to be joyful? I believe that the answer lies in the book itself, and in the verses quoted above. When God has commanded us to be joyful on this holiday, we do so by enjoying the gifts God has given us.  

My Grandfather and Yom Kippur

For Yom Kippur  

  During the Mincha (afternoon) service on Yom Kippur, we read the Book of Jonah. Most assume that we read it because of its theme of repentance, exemplified by the non-Jewish citizens of Nineveh after the warnings from the reluctant prophet Jonah. It has been suggested that this service is an especially poignant moment for having our prayers answered [another theme of Jonah, when God rescues him from the belly of the great fish (Brachot 6a)].  

          For me, this service has special meaning. Many years ago, my grandfather Michael David (aka “Peepa”) joined us at my shul for Yom Kippur. When the Mincha service was ready to begin, the Cantor who was to officiate was too ill to proceed, and the Rabbi asked whether anyone in the congregation was familiar with the special nusach (melody) for the service. My grandfather volunteered, even though he was more than 80 at the time. He davened beautifully, so beautifully in fact, that he was asked to repeat his performance the following year, which he did. He was invited for a third time but unfortunately passed away before he could step up to the bimah again.

            I asked our Cantor, Edwin Gerber, if he would teach me the appropriate nusach so that I could undertake the role of shaliach tzibur like my grandfather had done. For the following several years, I had the honor of leading services as my grandfather had done. My work at other congregations kept me from continuing this annual tradition, but I was able some years later to again take on this honor, an honor I have frequently had since that time.

            For me, standing before the congregation and chanting the words my grandfather had done decades ago brings a deep and satisfying connection not only to him, but with our tradition. In my earliest memories, I recall standing with him at High Holy Day services, playing with the fringes on his tallit. He represented in my childish mind’s eye all of the generations of ancestors spanning the years back to our Jewish origins.

            At this auspicious time, when we are hungry, thirsty, and we are tired of facing down our fears, we might find comfort in the continuity of our tradition, which to me remains joined with memories of my beloved grandfather.  

May we all feel a special connection to our tradition, to our people, to our history and to God at this special time, and may we find in that connection the strength to make our fast meaningful.  

 

Hide and Seek

 Ha’azinu

Deut. 32:1-52

 

Précis: The parasha, the shortest in the Five Books, includes a hymn sung by Moses​, who climbs a mountain to see the Promised Land he will not enter​. This is the last parasha read on Shabbat in the annual cycle: the final parasha (V’zot Habracha) is read on Simchat Torah.

 

Deut. 32:18, “God said: 'I will hide my countenance from them; and see how they fare in the end.'”

As noted by Rabbi Sari Laufer (10 Minutes of Torah, 9/30/24), this parasha is different from all others, since it is essentially a poem. While it is not a love poem, we can sense that it comes from a place of love. She cites a familiar Hasidic teaching of Rabbi Dov Ber of Mezeritch. Once he found a young child crying. “I was playing hide-and-seek with my friends,” the child explained, “and I hid so well that they stopped looking for me and went away.” Dov Ber mused, “This must be how God feels, hiding the Divine countenance from us to the point where some of us stop looking and start living our lives without God.”

This suggests that there is a crack, an opening, for us to “find” a God who remains hidden from us. Reading this parasha between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur on Shabbat Shuvah comes at a theologically difficult time, when we repeatedly encounter God in the liturgy as Ruler and Judge. For many of us, these are not welcome images, given the errors which self-examination brings to light. It is especially difficult for those of us who observe the decidedly troubling world in which we live and wonder why it seems that God has been hiding like the child in the story. 

Part of our task during the Yamim Noraim is to find where our best selves have been hiding, and we do this through introspection, confession and prayer. If we find our “best selves” perhaps we are touching what has been made in the image of God. 

 

Kings

For Shabbat and Rosh Hashanah

Rabbi Elie Kaunfer has written about the subject of divine kingship, a matter of considerable interest on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (Washington Post, 8/22/26).  Noting that this has been a year of crowds chanting “no kings” in American streets, we might examine the Jewish view of kings in general, and the view of God as King in particular. After all, during the High Holy Days, we acknowledge the kingship of God, including the famous prayer which begins “Avinu Malkeinu” — “Our Father, Our King.” 

To modern ears, the language of kings is threatening. This is not a modern phenomenon, since for more than 2,000 years, rabbinic interpreters felt a similar discomfort. In fact, the traditional rabbinic approach to God as King can be summed up simply: whatever you think a human king is, God is the opposite.

An old rabbinic tale suggests that before the world was created, God decided to make human beings, knowing full well that humanity would be an endless source of trouble. The Torah itself, acting as a kind of advisor, suggests that God can’t be a king in a vacuum, and God needs humans to rule. From the beginning, then, divine kingship is imagined as a two-way relationship.

This idea of a two-way relationship became central to Jewish tradition. A midrash about the creation of the prayer Avinu Malkeinu tells the story of concern during a drought. One rabbi, Eliezer, performed the entire formal prayer for rain. Nothing happened. Then a second famous sage, Rabbi Akiva, brought forward a much more daring plea: “Our Father, our King, we have no king but you; act for Your own sake, and have mercy on us.” The rain came.

Rabbi Akiva didn’t ask to be rescued for his own sake but reminded God that God, too, had something invested in the relationship. Akiva focused on two potent images: that of a father, whose bond with his child is unconditional, and that of a king, whose power is supreme. Put them together and you get the suggestion of something godlike: omnipotence attached to unconditional love.

We Americans are understandably wary of kings. On the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, it may seem strange to celebrate a king (even if it is God) during the most important Jewish holidays. But God’s kingship serves to highlight the insufficiency of any human king. God’s justice is a rebuke to every form of oppression. Well before crowds shouting “no kings” conflated kingship with tyranny, the rabbinic tradition proposed a radical idea: that the true king was the furthest thing from a tyrant. Rather than mistreating his people, he draws close to them. Instead of ignoring their distress, he looks on them with kindness and mercy.

That’s a strange kind of king. It might also be the only vision of power worthy of respect.

Strong and Courageous

 Nitzavim-Vayeilech

Deut. 29:9 -31:31

 

Précis: In Nitzavim Moses continues to address: You stand (nitzavim) this day before Adonai. Moses recounts the wonders Adonai had done. The Torah is an “open book” that is accessible to all. A blessing and a curse have been set before the People, and Moses urges them to choose the blessing, to choose life.

In Vayeilech, the Israelites are instructed to annihilate the seven Canaanite nations and take possession of the Promised Land. Moses transfers his mantle of leadership to Joshua and orders regular reading of the Law.

Deut. 29:9 -11 “You stand this day, all of you, before Adonai your God - your tribal heads, your elders, your officials, all the men of Israel; your children, your wives, even the stranger in your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer, to enter into the covenant of Adonai your God…”

                         Rabbi Sari Laufer questions why the Shabbat before Rosh Hashanah is not specially identified (10 Minutes of Torah, 9/23/23). After all, the Shabbat before Passover is called Shabbat HaGadol, the Great Sabbath; the Shabbat before Purim is known as Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat of Memory; the Shabbat before Tishah B'Av is called Shabbat Hazon, the Shabbat of Vision (named for the vision of destruction described in the haftarah). The Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is Shabbat Shuvah, the Shabbat of Return, with its special liturgy. But this Shabbat has no special name and nothing specifically hints at what is coming shortly.

But the Torah reading includes the statement “Atem nitzavim hayom kulchem, lifnei Adonai Elohecha” (“You stand today, all of you, before Adonai Your God”), and these are the same words we will hear on Yom Kippur, reminding us of our covenant with God. In effect, the phrase brackets the High Holy Days.  

The double parasha we read this week begins with “atem nitzavim”(you stand) and “vayeilech” (he went). Laufer notes that standing and going are opposite actions. The first is static, the other puts us in motion. In addition, four times in this week's parasha, we read Moses' command to Joshua as he transfers power: “hazak v'amatz,” (“be strong and courageous”).

As we approach the High Holy Days, we move from static to active, with the idea of being strong and courageous enough to carefully examine our faults and acknowledge them. 

Love of the Land

 Ki Tavo

Deut. 26:1-29:8

 

Précis: The parasha contains numerous religious mandates regarding the formation of a moral community (including tithes of first fruits and tithes to support the Levites). The People are instructed that they have a choice in their own destiny: there are blessings and curses (the “Admonition”), and they must choose between the two, and take the consequences. The parasha ends with Moses reminding the People about all that God had done for them.

 

Deut. 26:1-11 “And it shall be, when you come into the land which Adonai has given you, and dwell there, that you will take the first fruit of the ground…and place it in a basket...and go to a place that Adonai will choose…

 

Rabbi Sari Laufer has an insightful interpretation of this verse (10 Minutes of Torah, 9/16/24), noting that before all the blessings and curses, we read this first verse, speaking of a time of our settled habitation in the Land of Israel. While most of the Book of Deuteronomy has been a reminder of past mistakes, here we see a sea change. We envision, for the first time, life as a settled people in the land promised to us.

This vision, she tells us, is different from previous text dealing with the Promised Land, as it is less about law, less about temptations, and less about caution or worry. For the first time, we begin to imagine the blessing of settling in and creating a plan for our future. We imagine planting, watering, and sowing our fields and enjoying our lives. The giving of first fruits becomes a metaphor for a settled existence, safe in our homeland.

I note that the vision of a secure homeland for our People is as ancient as this text, perhaps more than 3,000 years old. It is, we know all too well, a vision which has for most of those millennia been challenged by our enemies. Certainly, it is a vision under threat today from those who question whether Israel has a “right to exist” and from so-called allies who may temporarily support Israel, but who are willing to tolerate (let alone themselves use) the language of double-standards that is a hallmark of antisemitism.

Like the Israelites of this parasha more than 3,000 years ago understood, our connection to the Land of Israel is eternal and unending. This connection prevails even when the leaders of the modern State engage in actions or adopt policies with which many Israelis (and many Jews in the Diaspora) disagree. Our rejection of a particular government and its policies cannot vitiate our love and connection to the concept of a free and independent Jewish State in Israel, just as a disagreement with the current US administration cannot vitiate our love for America.

Standing by

 Ki Tetze

Deut. 21:10 - 25:19

 

Précis:  The parsha begins with the phrase “when you go forth” (ki tetze) to battle. This parasha contains 72 mitzvot (commandments), dealing with the morals and values to be implanted in the Israelites’ society. They cover a wide variety of topics, from family life, human kindness, respect for property and animals, the safety of others, sexual relationships, escaped slaves, financial loans, keeping promises, and blotting out the name of one of Israel’s greatest enemies. This assortment of commands includes requirements that there be sex-distinct clothing; that mother birds not be separated from their eggs; that roof-tops have parapets; that seeds not be mixed in a field, and that “tzitzit” (fringes) be worn on garments.

 

Deut. 22:1-3 “If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep gone astray do not ignore it; you must take it back to your fellow. If you fellow’s does not live near you or you do not know who he is, you shall bring it home and it shall remain with you until your fellow claims it; then you shall give it back to him You shall do the same with his ass; you shall do the same with his garment; and so too shall you do with anything that your fellow loses and you find; you must not remain indifferent.”

 

According to Etz Hayim, the parasha is underscores “the irreducible dignity and worth of the human being.” The verses cited here deal with hashavat aveidim, returning lost objects, and end with the phrase “lo tukhal l'hitaleim,” (“You must not remain indifferent.”) It is this final phrase which merits some additional discussion.

            While the phrase may be viewed as part of the thrust of the opening lines (meaning, you should not remain indifferent to lost objects), it is also an important reminder that our tradition does not accept the common conception that somebody else’s troubles are their own, and one needs not get involved in the plight of others. Our tradition, moreover, supports the idea that we have an affirmative obligation to help those individuals in trouble, to aid our troubled communities, and to aid our troubled societies as a whole.

            While we may disagree (as Jews, of course are wont to do) about the means to improve our cultures and societies, we must agree that we cannot remain indifferent. Standing by without action is not a Jewish option.

 

A Humble King

 Shoftim

Deut. 16:18-21:9

 

Précis: The parasha Shoftim (literally, “judges”) is devoted primarily to various themes of justice, and includes warnings against false testimony, idol worship, and the dangers posed by mortal kings. The parasha also warns the people against false prophets, magicians, soothsayers and witches. It establishes requirements for cities of refuge in the Promised Land. In short, the parasha is devoted to ways to create a just society in the Land of Israel.

 

Deut. 17:18-20 “As he presides upon his royal throne, he must inscribe a copy of this Torah for himself upon a scroll, in the presence of the Levitical priests. It must always be with him, and he shall read from it all the days of his life, so that he may learn to revere the Lord his God, taking care to keep all the words of this commandment and these decrees, not considering himself superior to his people, or straying from the commandments to the right or to the left. Then he and his descendants will reign long in the midst of Israel.”

The king described in these verses must have humility.  As Rabbi Sacks suggested, “The highest in the land should not feel himself to be the highest in the land” (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 8/28/25). Other commands about the king appear in this parsha: he must not accumulate horses, he should not have “too many” wives, he should not accumulate “too much” wealth. These are obvious temptations to a king. But these actions were symptoms, not the cause of improper kingship. The real problem was a king believing that since he was “above” the people he was “above” the law.  

This was the intent of the Torah text. As Maimonides points out, “Just as the Torah grants him [the king] great honor and obliges everyone to revere him, so it commands him to be lowly and empty at heart, as it says, ‘My heart is empty within me’ (Ps. 109:22). Nor should he treat Israel with overbearing haughtiness, for it says, “So that his heart be not haughty over his brothers” (Deut. 17:20). He should be gracious and merciful to the small and the great, involving himself in their good and welfare. He should protect the honor of even the humblest of men. When he speaks to the people as a community, he should speak gently, as it says, “Listen my brothers and my people….” (I Chronicles 28:2), and similarly, “If today you will be a servant to these people…” (I Kings 12:7). He should always conduct himself with great humility. There was none greater than Moses, our teacher. Yet he said: “What are we? Your complaints are not against us” (Ex. 16:8). He should bear the nation's difficulties, burdens, complaints and anger as a nurse carries an infant (Maimonides, Laws of Kings 2:6)."

Usually, I have some comments on cited text. This week, I prefer to let Maimonides speak for himself, since its application is obvious.

The choice is ours

 Re’eh

Deut. 11:26 - 16:17

 

Précis: Moses begins by quoting God, saying “Behold (re’eh), I set before you a blessing and a curse this day.” The blessing flows from observance of the laws and the curses result from violations. The parasha includes a prohibition against self-mutilation, a biblical basis of the laws of kashrut, tithing so that the needs are met for the Levites, the “stranger, the fatherless, and the widow.” Remission of debts, freeing of Hebrew slaves, and the dedication of firstborn cattle are discussed​. 

 

Deut. 11:26-28 “See, I am setting before you today a blessing and a curse - the blessing if you obey the commands of the Lord your God that I am giving you today; the curse if you disobey the commands of the Lord your God and turn from the way that I command you today by following other gods, which you have not known.”

 

Deut. 30:15, Deut. 30:19 “See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil... choose life, that you and your offspring may live.

 

Rabbi Sacks notes that having set out the broad principles of the covenant, Moses now turns to the details (Rabbi Sacks Legacy 8/21/25)​.

​           Maimonides views these two passages as the basis for our belief in freewill (Hilchot Teshuvah 5:3), ​and Sacks suggests that the passages are something more: a political statement. There is a connection between individual freedom (which Maimonides is talking about) and collective choice (which Moses is talking about). If humans are free then they need a free society within which to exercise that freedom.

            Moses summons the people to humility and responsibility, recognizing that Israel is not great in conventional terms, but great in moral terms. Moses insists on three things. First, we are free, and our fate is in our hands. Second, we are collectively responsible. The fate of Israel depends on the response of Israel, all Israel, and not only its leaders. (This may be the origin of America’s phrase “We, the People.”)  Third, it is a God-centered politics (a “theocracy.)” Biblical Israel is the first example in history of an attempt to create a society to answer the questions: how can freedom and responsibility be shared equally by all? How can limits be placed on the power of rulers? Jews were the first to believe that an entire nation could govern itself in freedom and equal dignity. This has nothing to do with political structures (monarchy, oligarchy, democracy – we have tried them all), and everything to do with collective moral responsibility.

As Sacks sums it up: “We have never quite achieved the vision, but we have never ceased to be inspired by it. Moses’ words still challenge us today. God has given us freedom. Let us use it to create a just, generous, gracious society…. As Moses said: the choice is ours.”

 

Giving thanks through deeds

 Eikev

Deut. 7:12 - 11:25

 

Précis: Moses continues his recapitulation of the commandments to the people, reminding them to be obedient to God’s laws in their forthcoming struggle with the Canaanites. He describes in detail the blessings which God had already provided them and reminds them to bless and thank God for the bounty they receive.

 

Deut. 8:10 “When you have eaten your fill, and have built fine houses to live in, and your herds and flocks have multiplied . . . Remember that it is the Lord your God who gives you the power to get wealth . . .”

            In this verse, we have the proof-text (origin) for the recitation of the Birkat Hamazon, the grace after meals. This verse is also an important reminder that when we achieve material wealth, we should remember that our success is not due solely to our own efforts. Rather, God has given us the ability and opportunity to achieve. The verse implies that God gives us that opportunity when we observe God’s commandments, including those about treating the poor, the orphan, the widow, and the stranger with dignity and compassion.

            Recent studies have revealed that in the United States, 300 families control 20% of the wealth of our nation. This unprecedented concentration of wealth has led us to an era of oligarchy, far exceeding the Gilded Age of the late 19^th century. Even so, there is an important distinction between the present and the previous era. Then, oligarchs like Rockefeller, Carnegie and Vanderbilt were known not only as rich titans, but also as great philanthropists. Today’s version of the super-wealthy seems more intent on funneling their money into outrageous weddings, giant private estates, political black funds, and control of the media. They display an ongoing disregard for the message of our weekly reading.

Israel and America's Mission

Va'etchanan

Deut. 3:23 - 7:11

 

Précis: Moses continues the recapitulation of travels and urges the People to follow the laws​. Moses pleads with God that he be allowed to enter the Promised Land and is refused. Moses continues with a restatement of the Ten Commandments and follows with an articulation of the basic element of Jewish theology: the Sh’ma. 

 

Deut. 4:5-8 “See, I have taught you decrees and laws as the Lord my God commanded me, so that you may follow them in the land you are about to enter and possess. Take care to keep them, for this will be your wisdom and understanding in the eyes of the nations, who will hear about all these decrees and say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people!’ For what other nation has decrees and laws as just as this Torah that I am setting before you today?”

 

 It is ironic, given the incredible condemnation around the world of Israel (in specific) and Jews (in general), that our Torah reading implies a time when all nations will appreciate the gifts that Israel has given the world. It is also ironic that the United States has claimed a similar distinction during its history; that this distinction is imperiled by the current regime.

​     Rabbi Sacks examined the similarity between Israel and the United States as beacons of honorable societies (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 8/15/24). He notes that while Moses foresaw a day when all other nations would admire the Jewish commitment to honorable decrees and laws, it was the United States which seemed to have inherited this mantle. Much of American political discourse is based on the biblical idea of covenant. Presidents from Ronald Reagan through Barack Obama all made statements which were explicitly religious in nature in their inaugurals, claiming a special role for the United States like that envisioned for Israel in the cited verses.
            How did this come to be?  Early Protestant theologians were students of the Hebrew Bible and of Talmud. Afterwards, Enlightenment thinkers continued to rely upon Biblical knowledge and language. (As an aside, learning Biblical Hebrew was a mandatory course, along with Greek, in most American universities into the 19th century.) This historic connection between the Hebrew Bible and the revolutionary thought of the American Founders is obvious.  

As John Adams wrote: “I will insist that the Hebrews have done more to civilize men than any other nation.”

            The history of ancient Israel shows that the goal of being a light unto the nations dissipated with the destruction of the Second Temple. It can be argued that today, the holy mission inherited and undertaken by our Founders has been neglected if not abandoned. We can pray that we have the time, talent, and understanding to reassert America’s devotion to the ancient dream of Israel to create a just society.

 

 

Words and Actions

D’varim

Deut. 1:1 - 3:22

The Book of Deuteronomy (D’varim – “words”) takes the form of a series of lectures by Moses to the People as they prepare to enter the Land. D’varim is sometimes called the “Mishneh Torah”, literally, the “second teaching of the Torah” (this is where we get the Greek name of the Book) because it contains repetitions of previously enunciated laws.

            The Book is also sometimes referred to as the “Priestly Code” by those who ascribe its origin to the Priests of the First Temple era. D’varim has two other significant themes: the cosmic relationship between God and the People Israel and the pursuit of social justice in terms of care for the “poor, the widow, and the orphan.” 

            The first parasha recounts the four decades of travel through the wilderness, repeats the story of the spies, deals with the appointment of judges, victories in the wilderness against enemies, and how the conquered land is to be divided.

 

It is interesting to note that the first Book of the Torah begins with God creating the world through words. The final Book of Moses also begins with words (d’varim).  We can see from both Books that words have power. We also know that actions can speak louder than words. Both are important in our tradition.

Moses’ words in this Book are different from his previous pronouncements. Here he engages in the act of remembering, an essential part of Torah and Jewish observance (i.e., the Passover seder reading of the Haggadah, meaning “telling”).

Recalling and telling are essential, but we need to learn from and protect the achievements we recall. Pirke Avot 2:21 states it best: “It is not [our] duty to finish the work, but neither are [we] free to desist from it.”

We read about Moses’ plans for the Land of Israel and, knowing the outcome, assume that his presumptions were certain. Similarly, we can look back upon the establishment of the modern State of Israel as being inevitable, since we observe a modern vibrant Jewish nation. But since October 7^th and its aftermath, we cannot merely retell the story of Israel’s creation, but we must take actions to help Israel (and the Jewish People) survive and thrive. 

We are Brothers

Matot-Masei

Num. 30:2 – 36:13

 

Précis: Matot begins with a speech to the heads (matot) of the tribes concerning the importance and sacredness of vows. The tribes of Reuben and Gad express their desire to dwell east of the Jordan, and are permitted to do so, after promising to enter the Land to help the rest of the People defeat the Canaanites.

The Book of Numbers ends with Masei. “These are the stages (masei) of the journey” which the Israelites made through the desert. In what amounts to a recapitulation, all of the stops along the way are identified. 

 

Num. 32:6 “Are your brothers to go to war while you stay here?”
           

The Gadites and the Reubanites ask Moses’ permission to stay on the eastern side of the Jordan, outside of the Promised Land. Moses accuses them of abandoning the nation, and they respond that they will serve as the “shock troops” for battle and make no claim for land west of the Jordan.
            The use of the word “brother” is a textural reminder of a previous story from Genesis, that of the separation of Abraham and Lot. (Gen 13:8 “So Abram said to Lot, “Let us not have any quarreling between us, or between your herders and mine, for we are brothers”). As with the tribes of Reuben and Gad, Lot chose land suitable for his herds, close to the Jordan. As was the case with the tribes, when Lot was threatened it was Abraham who raised a military force to rescue his "brother."

The story of the tribes and that of Abraham and Lot are different in one key respect: The tribes of Moses’ time are not playing Lot’s role, since they are active in defense of their brothers as opposed to needing saving. What the stories have in common is that when families are separated geographically, it is not easy to remain emotionally close. Many of us have experienced this in our own lives.

We in America find ourselves on the other side of an ocean from our “brothers” in Israel. There can be no doubt that Israel continues to be threatened both militarily and politically, and we have also seen that we in America are threatened with antisemitism caused by those who conflate criticism of Israel’s current government with Jews wherever we dwell.

Whatever side of the ocean we find ourselves on, we cannot forget that we share a covenant and destiny with our brothers. 

Joshua or Pinchas?

Pinchas

Num. 25:10 - 30:1

 

Précis: This parasha begins with a reward for Pinchas’ zealotry in slaying the offending adulterers at the conclusion of the previous parasha (the hereditary High Priesthood). The laws of inheritance are amended to provide, at least in certain cases, for daughters to inherit their fathers’ estates. Joshua is appointed the successor to Moses as leader of the People. The parasha then shifts to details of sacrifices.  

Num. 27:15 -16 “And Moses spoke to Adonai saying, ‘Let Adonai, God of the spirit of all flesh, appoint a man over the congregation who will go in front of them and who will bring them out and who will bring them in, so that Adonai’s congregation won’t be like sheep without a shepherd.…’”

 

Once Moses has accepted that a new leader for Israel is required, the question then turns to whom the succession will fall.  There were probably three potential followers. First, it could be the military leader Joshua, who displayed his virtue during the episode of the spies.  Second, it might have been Pinchas, who had just been awarded the most significant religious leadership position, that of High Priest, due to his zealotry. Finally, it could have been Moses’ own first-born son, given that primogeniture was the rule among nations at that time.  But it was Joshua who was selected. Why?

            Traditional commentary states that Moses feared Pinchas’ zealotry, since tolerance is an essential part of leadership. Moses’ sons, according to Midrash, refused to study Torah (a metaphor for not following God’s Law). Joshua alone had demonstrated the ability to lead as a shepherd tends his flock and had shown faith in God. He thus merited the leadership role.

            As we celebrate America’s 250^th anniversary this Shabbat, we should consider the kind of leadership we have now, and the kind of leadership we should work for in the coming months and years. May God grant us Joshuas and save us from Pinchases as we enter the next phase of the American Experiment.

            

A People Apart

 Chukat-Balak

Num. 19:1 – 25:9

 

Précis: Chukat begins with a discussion of the Red Heifer, used for ritual purification after one comes into contact with a dead body. The story then shifts to the death of Miriam. With her death, the well of water which had accompanied their travels disappears, and Moses strikes a rock to provide water to the People. Aaron also dies and the Israelites engage in a series of battles which conclude the parasha.

In Balak, the King of Moab, fearful of the success of the Israelites in war, hires a local magician named Bilaam to place a curse upon the Israelites. Bilaam begins the journey riding upon his ass, which refuses to proceed and talks to Bilaam, protesting Bilaam’s foul treatment. Bilaam eventually pronounces a blessing. At the end of the parasha, Pinchas sees an Israelite having sexual relations with a Midianite woman and slays both of them.

 

Num. 23:9 “It is a nation dwelling alone, not reckoned among the nations.”

 

Rabbi Sacks tells the following story (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 7/10/25):

“The year is 1933. Two Jews are sitting in a Viennese coffee house, reading the news. One is reading the local Jewish paper, the other the notoriously antisemitic publication Der Stürmer. “How can you possibly read that revolting rubbish?” says the first. The second smiles. “What does your paper say? Let me guess: ‘The Jews are assimilating.’ ‘The Jews are arguing.’ ‘The Jews are disappearing.’ Now let me tell you what my paper says: ‘The Jews control the banks.’ ‘The Jews control the media.’ ‘The Jews control Austria.’ ‘The Jews control the world.’ My friend, if you want good news about the Jews, always pay attention to the antisemites.”

In this week’s parasha, the verse cited above becomes of paramount importance. What do these words imply? Ibn Ezra suggested that even when widely dispersed among other nations, Jews will not assimilate. There are two ways a people become a nation: a group faces a common enemy and bands together forming a nation, or a group living in a land, develops a shared culture and forms a society, becoming a nation. Jews (at least from the time of the Babylonian Exile) did neither. They were spread widely, did not share the same language, did not have a common political experience, and did not share the same fate.  

Nevertheless, we saw ourselves as a nation. Uniquely, for us, religion and nationhood coincided. We were a People even when exiled from our national territory, a unique experience among all nations. Bilaam was correct: the Jewish People are different than all other peoples. What makes us a “nation dwelling apart” is that our nationality is not a matter of geography, politics, or ethnicity. It is a matter of a common way of life and adherence to a common core of moral teaching, creating a unique way of life.

Today, the antisemites again are active in their critique of our exceptionalism. We are, depending on the orientation of the antisemites, either in control of everything or of nothing, either mighty colonialists or subhumans not deserving a physical home. We are behind both the “socialist antifa” conspiracy and the capitalist “Epstein class.” Jew hatred comes from all directions.

It is claimed that Israel (read Jews) led the U.S. into a war with Iran, and prevents the U.S. from reaching peace with Iran by attacking Lebanon. Incredibly, the U.S. has signed an agreement with Iran which requires a third party (Israel) to cease defending itself against an armed group (Hezbollah) supported, paid, and directed by Iran. When the “peace agreement” inevitably fails, Israel (Jews) will once again be cast as a “nation apart.” We’ve survived for 3,000 years, and we will continue to do so.

Leadership

Korach

Num. 16:1 - 18:32

 

Précis: Korach foments a rebellion, claiming that Moses and Aaron have taken too much power for themselves. Datan and Abiram also attack Moses’ leadership, claiming that Moses has brought them from a land of milk and honey (Egypt!) only to let them die in the wilderness. A test of fire offerings is arranged, and Korach and his followers are destroyed as the earth opens and swallows them. The People continue to complain, God threatens to destroy them once again, but Moses and Aaron intercede. A plague takes the lives of 14,000 people. A final test, that of staffs, is performed, and when Aaron’s staff miraculously blossoms on the following morning, his status as High Priest is secure.

 

Num. 16:3 “You have gone too far! The whole community is holy, every one of them, and the Lord is with them. Why then do you set yourselves above the Lord’s assembly?”

Rabbi Sacks notes that Korach had a point: at the heart of his challenge is the idea of equality (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 6/26/25).  However, Korach does not mean what he says. He claims to be opposed to the institution of leadership, but at the same time he wants to be the leader. Korach asks, “Why then do you set yourselves above the Lord’s assembly?”  and in so doing he is mistaken in his view of leadership. He sees leadership as a matter of status, and that the leader is what we would today call an “alpha male” who controls, directs, and dominates. But this is not the kind of leadership which our tradition honors. Moses, the greatest leader, is one about whom it is said “He was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth” (Num. 12:3). In our tradition, leadership is not a matter of status but of function, and leadership is not about popularity. Even further, a true leader is not eager for the job. Witness Moses’ repeatedly attempting to avoid leadership of Israel.

This was Korach’s mistake. He thought leaders were those who set themselves above others. 

Truth

Sh’lach

Num. 13:1-15:41

 

Précis: Moses is ordered to “send out” (sh’lach) spies to examine the land. Representatives of each tribe go out, report on its bounty, but also report about its fearsome inhabitants. The People are frightened, and their “murmuring” turns into something close to panic. God tells Moses that He will destroy the People, but Moses intercedes; the People are sentenced to spend 40 years in the wilderness. Near its end, the parasha discusses the wearing of tzitzit, a paragraph which is part of the traditional recitation of the Sh’ma.

 

Num. 13:27-28 “And they told him, ‘We came to the land you sent us to, and surely it flows with milk and honey; but the people that live in the land are fierce. And the cities are fortified, and very great, moreover, we saw Amalekites there.’”

What is “truth?”  There was a time when we could say. “you can argue about your opinions, but you can’t argue about the truth.” Sadly, that is no longer part of American political discourse. In the verses above, the spies report on “facts” but interpret them in a way which causes consternation among the Israelites. These days, we have a President of the United States who, when confronted with demands for proof of his absurd “facts,” walks away from the interview and calls the interviewer names. The war with Iran has been called “over” too many times to mention, yet the war continues.​

As Ron Charles has noted (RonCharles@substack.com, 6/12/26), the Covid-19 pandemic and the rush of research it generated inspired a backlash of misinformation and skepticism about evidence. Given Trump’s systematic attacks on science — and his appointment of a kook as secretary of Health and Human Services — the way forward is not clear. Right now, the world needs more people who value evidence, because those who don’t are gaining strength.

            This is also true in social media, where so-called “antizionists” ignore context, background, and history, and claim that the modern State of Israel is a colonial extension by and on behalf of Europeans.

            The Israelites were doomed to wander in the wilderness for forty years until a new generation could emerge who owed fealty to truth. I hope that we may be the generation which reveres truth, but fear that it may take decades for us to reach our Promised Land.

--

Torah and Secular Learning

B’haalot’cha

Num. 8:1 - 12:16

 

Précis: The parasha begins with a description of the making of the seven-branched menorah. The parasha returns to narrative with a recounting of a second Passover celebration (required because some of the Israelites had been ritually impure when the first anniversary of Passover was celebrated).  The march of the People through the wilderness of Sinai begins, led by the Ark. The people murmur, this time about a lack of meat. God provides, but the People are struck with a plague. Even Miriam and Aaron seem to have complaints about Moses regarding the “Cushite woman.”

 

Num. 8:1-3 “And Adonai spoke to Moses, saying, ‘Speak to Aaron, and say to him: When you light the lamps, the seven lamps shall give light in front of the candlestick.’ Aaron did so….”

The seven branched menorah has become the symbol of the Jewish People. Its story reaches back to ancient times, when it served as the light for the Temple, kindled every day. It later signified the defeat of the Jewish People by the Romans, evidenced by its appearance on the triumphal Arch of Titus. And it became the symbol of the reconstituted State of Israel, appearing on its seal.

            Isaac Luria taught that six branches of the Menorah represented the six “academic disciplines” recognized at his time (theology, canon law, medicine, arts, humanities, and science) and that the seventh branch was Torah, which in turn illuminates all secular knowledge.

            He informs us that Torah and secular learning are not rivals. As is stated in Etz Hayyim, each can illuminate the other. Today, there are some (particularly among the most Orthodox parts of Judaism) who reject this confluence. To my mind, they have something to learn from Pope Leo’s recent encyclical regarding artificial intelligence. Scientific (secular) achievements cannot ignore moral dictates, and those steeped in religious learning cannot ignore the secular world. Those who are most concerned with religious/moral understanding have the great responsibility of informing the secular world about the need to implement moral guardrails in secular achievements.

 

The Harmony of Shalom

 Naso

Num. 4:21-7:89

 

Précis: The parasha (the longest of the weekly readings) opens with a continuation of the listing of the Levitical families and their duties regarding the transportation of holy vessels. This is followed by a brief commandment concerning restitution for wrongs. The parasha then turns to a mysterious procedure for testing a wife’s fidelity (the Sotah) when questioned by her jealous husband. Next, we have a discussion of the laws of Nazarites, and the recitation of the “Priestly Benediction.” The parasha concludes with the presentation of identical gifts by each tribe for the dedication of the Altar.

 

Num. 6:22-26 “And Adonai spoke to Moses, saying: ‘Speak to Aaron and his sons, saying, “This is how you will bless the children of Israel; say to them: ‘May Adonai bless you and watch over you.  May Adonai make His face shine to you and be gracious to you. May Adonai raise His face to you and give you peace.”’

This week, I turn again to Rabbi Sacks, as he expounds on the meaning of “shalom” (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 6/11/24).

The parasha contains one of the oldest prayers in the world still in continuous use: the priestly blessings. It is followed by (with inexplicable repetitiousness) the account of the gifts brought by the princes of each tribe at the dedication of the Tabernacle, repeated no less than twelve times, since each prince brought an identical offering. Why does the Torah spend so much time describing an event that could have been stated far more briefly by naming the princes and then simply telling us generically that each brought the same described gifts?

Sacks suggests that the answer for the repetition lies in the last words immediately preceding the princely gifts: the priestly blessing, ending in shalom, peace. “Shalom” does not mean merely the absence of war or strife. It means completeness, harmony, and perfection. This is a concept of peace heavily dependent on the vision of Genesis, in which God brings order out of chaos, creating a world in which each object and life form has its place. Peace exists where each element in the system is valued as a vital part of the whole and where there is no discord between them.

The parasha, explicating the laws of the Sotah and the Nazir, displays an underlying need for restoring harmony among people, which in turn enables “shalom.” Finding such harmony in today’s world, whether in the Middle East or here in America, at present seems out of reach. We need to remember that every Jewish prayer service ends with a prayer for peace. Seeking peace is our role in Creation and is our role in the continuation of Revelation.