Parshat Vayera: Remaining Hopeful

In Parshat Vayera, amidst the backdrop of sinfulness and destruction, Avraham stands out as a beacon of optimism and faith in human goodness. The interpretation of this story sends a strong message to his descendents about the power of prayer and not giving up hope.

Avaraham eagerly welcomes visitors (angels) and receives God’s blessing and promise that he will have a child with Sarah and become a great nation. As Avraham sees his guests off, the Torah shifts to the situation in Sodom, underscoring the stark contrast between the kindness of Avraham and the cruelty of Sodom. Yet, before Sodom’s destruction, God chooses to share His intentions with Avraham, asking, “Shall I hide from Avraham what I am about to do?” Why does God need to inform Avraham of His intentions? Similarly, a few verses later, just before Avraham pleads with God, hoping that there were a few righteous people left in the city, we hear: “Abraham remained standing before the Lord.” Bereshit Rabbah teaches that actually, it was God who waited for Avraham, inviting him to intercede. However, the Scribes revised the verse to appear less irreverent. Both these verses imply that God encouraged Avraham to protest and pray, despite the seeming hopelessness and dire state of Sodom.

A similar idea is seen in a midrashic story about King Hezekiah in Talmud Berakhot. Hezekiah prays despite Jeremiah’s prophecy that he will soon die, asserting, “I have received a tradition from the house of my father’s father: Even if a sharp sword rests upon a person’s neck, he should not prevent himself from praying.” Hezekiah prays and holds onto hope, even in the bleakest and most hopeless of times. 

Amidst our war-weariness, the rise of antisemitism across the West, and the long wait for the return of the hostages, we can draw strength from Avraham and Hezekiah, who teach us never to give up hope. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Lech-lecha: from Avarham to Us

Why was Avraham chosen? We hear nothing about his faith or righteousness before God calls out to him “Lech lecha.” However, the biblical commentaries develop a fuller picture of Avraham’s moral clarity and spiritual strength, teaching us a valuable lesson about standing strong in our faith and devotion to Israel today.   

There are many descriptions from the midrash to Rambam about how Avraham discovered and embraced monotheism and became the father of the Jewish people. Bereshit Rabbah teaches: Avraham wandered from place to place and saw a palace in flames. He said, “how can it be that this palace has no leader?!” The owner of the castle (God) peered out and said, “I am the master of this palace (this world).” Here, Avraham’s faith came about through questioning, through not being able to make sense of the world. As Rabbi Sacks zt”l wrote: “What moved Abraham was not philosophical harmony but moral discord. For Abraham, faith began in cognitive dissonance. There is only one way of resolving this dissonance: by protesting evil and fighting it… It is as if God were saying to Abraham: I need you to help Me to put out the flames.

Avraham’s distinctiveness may also be alluded to when he is later called “ha-ivri,” which means “the Hebrew” or “from the other side.” One midrashic opinion suggests a meaning which particularly resonates today: The entire world was on one side and he was on the other side [ever]. We will continue to speak the truth even when it goes against popular world opinion.

Perhaps the reason God chose Avraham was because of his response to God’s call “Lech lecha…” Avraham answers the call fully even though it involves uncertainty and sacrifice. This too, is the story of the Jewish people and their love and commitment to Israel through the ages. 

Avraham models faith despite disorder and evil in the world, moral clarity even while in the minority, and strength of commitment to Israel – that is why he was chosen and inspires us to hear the call of “Lech lecha…” Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Noah: Living up to Yourself

Noah is often criticized, especially when compared with other biblical characters. The greatest disappointment however, may be that he could not fully live up to his own potential.

Noah’s beginnings are filled with hope, with word-plays on his name hinting at relief and grace: His father names him “Noah,” saying, “This one will provide us relief (yenachameinu),” though his name actually means “rest.” Noah (נח) also finds grace (חן) in God’s eyes. Living ten generations after Adam and before Abraham, he echoes Adam, who was tasked to “work and preserve the land.” Noah emerges from the ark and becomes “a man of the land.” Yet, both of them sin and are punished by God.

Noah is introduced as “a righteous man in his generation,” yet the midrash questions if this was only relative. He “walked with God,” but had he lived with Abraham—who walked “before God”—he might not have stood out. The Zohar contrasts the two sharply: Noah never prays to save others, while Abraham pleads with God on their behalf.

The midrash also compares Noah to Moshe. This at first seems far-fetched. However, their stories contain the only two mentions of a tevah (ark) in all of Tanach, both of which were built to save people’s lives. Yet, their paths diverge when it comes to their spiritual growth. Bereshit Rabbah teaches: Noah shifts from “a righteous man” to “a man of the land,” while Moshe transforms from an “Egyptian man” to “a man of God.”

Noah’s story is a poignant tale of great promise that took a tragic turn. He lacked what Abraham and Moshe possessed: optimism about humanity’s potential and faith in the Jewish people. This outlook enabled them to become their best selves and great leaders. Shabbat Shalom🇮🇱 -Karen Miller Jackson


Bereshit: Between Darkness and Light

Why does the Torah begin by distinguishing between darkness and light? The commentaries see this contrast as fundamental to parshat Bereshit and derive timeless resonance from this imagery.

In all other acts of creation, the Torah does not describe what existed before. Only here does the Torah tell us that there was “tohu va-vohu,” the world was desolate and void, covered in darkness. Rashi explains that a person would have been astonished by its emptiness. All this contrasts with the creation of light. The Netivot Shalom explains that light is Godliness, while “tohu va-vohu” is confusion and a world empty of values. Moreover, the midrash teaches that God hid away some of the light of creation for future generations, so that when they encounter darkness and evil, they can seek out God, and plead, “let there be light.”

“Let there be light,” are the first words spoken by God in the Torah. The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that there is a two-stage formula for human creativity: first setting and stating a goal: “let there be light,” and then taking steps to achieve it: “and there was light.” The midrashic hidden light then awaits human action and partnership, which makes the world a better place and increases God’s light in the world. Rabbi Sacks adds a third stage in – “And God saw that it was good” – when we can see the good in others and help them discover their light and creativity.

There is too much darkness in our world. Antisemitism, terrorism and hatred, hostages underground, and so much pain and loss. May the “tohu va-vohu” be replaced by “let there be light,” the light of creativity and redemption, for the hostages, for the wounded and grieving, for Am Yisrael and all who seek the light. Shabbat Shalom🌔🇮🇱 -Karen Miller Jackson


V’zot Ha-bracha: This Simchat Torah

“This is the blessing…” Moshe’s final act is to bless the people of Israel in Parshat V’zot Ha-bracha, which is always read on Simchat Torah. Given the emotions surrounding this day, the Torah concludes with a message that feels particularly appropriate.

The midrashim provide two beautiful ideas about the power of blessings: 1) The Sifrei Devarim sees a link to the previous parsha, which was filled with rebuke of Israel, followed by Moshe’s blessings. This teaches that one who gives harsh criticism should always follow it up with words of comfort. 2) The midrash Tanhuma looks back at the giving of blessings in Bereshit which were mixed – some positive, and some highlighting the negative. In contrast, Moshe’s brachot to the people here, were given with an “ayin yafeh,” a good eye, accentuating the positive in others.

One more lesson can be drawn from the final words of the Torah, praising Moshe upon his death: “That Moshe did before the eyes of all Israel.” Rashi comments: “This refers to the fact that his heart inspired him to shatter the tablets before their eyes (following the sin of the Golden Calf),” after which God congratulates Moshe. The Lubavitcher Rebbe asks why, after the blessings and praise, does Rashi bring up this incident which seems disparaging of Israel? In fact, says the Lubavitcher Rebbe, the mention of breaking the tablets is meant positively. It opened up the possibility of teshuva, of renewal for Am Yisrael. Moreover, while the first luchot came from God, the second luchot represents God’s commending Moshe and the people’s aspiring and choosing wholeheartedly to accept the Torah.    

This Simchat Torah let’s hope for blessings for Israel and the Jewish people: That we can give words of comfort, see each other with a “good eye,” and that we carry the memory of all that has broken and find healing and redemption. May it be a Chag Sameach! -Karen Miller Jackson


I also want to thank you for joining me for this year of Power Parsha and for your meaningful feedback. This coming year will focus on “Hope, Positivity and Optimism in the Parsha.” Please think of a friend or two who might like to receive Power Parsha and send them this link! Also if you already receive Power Parsha, no need to sign up again:-) Here is a link to send friends:

To subscribe to “Power Parsha” a short dvar Torah on Hope, Positivity and Optimism in the Parsha via whatsapp: https://chat.whatsapp.com/CKLpCygJaBf20sKbNmRV1u or via email here: https://karenmillerjackson.com/


Parshat Nitzavim-Vayelech: National Repair and Return

We usually think about teshuva (repentance or return) as applying to individuals. Parshat Nitzavim-Vayelech teaches about an additional layer of teshuva, one which is perhaps more relevant at this time in Jewish history – national teshuva.  

The Ramban derives the mitzvah of teshuva from our parsha, traditionally read on the Shabbat before Rosh Hashana. The Hebrew root sh.u.v is repeated seven times in this section, characterizing teshuva as an ongoing process. It encompasses both the individual aspect: “You will return to your God…” and the national dimension: “God will return and gather you from all the nations…” What does national teshuva look like? Rav Kook teaches that the return of the Jewish people to the land of Israel is the foundation of the greatest teshuva. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, based on the Ramban, wrote about the dual nature of teshuva as a “double homecoming” – physically to Israel and spiritually to God. Perhaps there can be a notion of spiritual return to the Jewish people as well. Can we hear, in the words of Rabbi Sacks, “the divine call (‘Where are you?’) within the events that happen to us, whether individually as personal fate or collectively as Jewish history.” 

The prophet Hosea offers further insight into national teshuva when he calls on the people of Israel to return to God. The core of teshuva is through words: “Take words with you and return to God… Instead of bulls, we will pay [with offering of] our lips.”(14:3) National teshuva is achieved through words of prayer and in using language that fosters healing and repair. 

Especially this year, how can we respond to the call to national return in light of the parsha and Hosea’s message? How can each of us contribute to the strengthening and healing of Israel and the Jewish people? Shabbat Shalom & Shana Tova -Karen Miller Jackson 


Parshat Ki Tavo: Individual and National Gratitude

Parshat Ki Tavo opens with the mitzvah of bikkurim, the offering of first fruits. This ceremony, echoing previous biblical stories, carries a relevant message for our generation’s relationship with the land of Israel.

After settling the land, the people are commanded to bring their first fruits to the Beit Hamikdash and recite a declaration recounting their journey from Egypt to Israel. On an individual level, Rashi explains that bringing bikkurim demonstrated that a person was not “kafui tova,” ungrateful to God. This recalls the story of Kayin, who also brought “fruit of the soil” but is depicted in midrash as offering a sub-standard gift to God and fighting with his brother about what belonged to him. In contrast, offering the first and most precious fruits to God teaches us to express gratitude and appreciate the land and its blessings.

The same is true on a national level. Rashi teaches that the mitzvah of bikkurim applied only after Bnei Yisrael, the nation, had inherited the land. This underscores the communal dimension of bikkurim. This is further reinforced by the parallels between bikkurim and the story of the spies. Both involve the fruit of Israel and reflect how we speak about the land. Rabbi Elchanan Samet explains that the spies brought back supersized fruit not to amaze the people, but to dissuade and demotivate them. Bikkurim serve as a tikkun (rectification) for the meraglim. While the spies spread negativity about the land, bikkurim is a way of speaking positively and expressing gratitude for the land’s bounty.


The bikkurim ceremony took place only while the Temple stood. Yet, the declaration is preserved and read out each year at the Pesach seder. The enduring message of this declaration reminds us of the responsibility we bear in how we speak, both individually and as a nation, about the land of Israel today. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Ki Tetze: How and Why we Remember

Zachor” – Three times parshat Ki Tetze instructs us to remember a pivotal event in biblical history. When the Torah says “zachor” it wishes to convey a moral and spiritual awareness to carry with us always. 

First, we are instructed to remember (zachor) what God did to Miriam in the desert, when she was punished for speaking lashon ha-ra (slander) against her brother Moshe. Second, when the parsha presents a list of mitzvot regarding how to treat the stranger, orphan, and widow, these commandments are framed by the charge to remember (zachor) that we were once slaves in Egypt.  Third, the parsha ends with the instruction to remember (zachor) what Amalek did to us on the journey out of Egypt – they lacked fear of God and attacked the Jewish people at their weakest. 

Ramban sees deep meaning in the word “zachor” and comments: zachor signifies that these memories — the story of pure evil (Amalek) and the story of evil speech (Miriam) — must be actively remembered and verbally conveyed to future generations, underscoring their seriousness. While other commentators view the command to remember Miriam’s lashon ha-ra as a recommendation, Ramban argues that it is one of the 613 mitzvot. A similar point is applied to the third zachor, remembering that we were slaves in Egypt, which we verbally recall in daily tefillah and at the Passover seder. This zachor compels us to be particularly sensitive to the plight of the vulnerable and reinforces the value of freedom.

Actively remembering these three episodes may have held different meanings for different generations. Today, we can internalize their messages as follows: 1) We remember acts of evil and hatred against us to protect ourselves and in hope of a better future, 2) We must be mindful of how we speak about our brothers and sisters, and 3) We must remember our right to be a free people in our own land. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Shoftim: Great Responsibility

“With great power comes great responsibility.” In Parshat Shoftim, societal leaders—whether judges, prophets, sages, or kings—are commanded to pursue justice and adhere to a strict code of ethical behavior. However, there are times when every individual is called upon to engage in introspection and take responsibility for the welfare of society as well.

Devarim 21 describes the mysterious ceremony, done in biblical times, of “eglah arufah.” When a murder victim is discovered outside a city and the identity of the killer is unknown, the elders of the closest city take an unworked heifer and break its neck. Then there is a two-part tikkun. First, the leaders are called upon to take responsibility, which consists of a declaration: “Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it done,” and then a prayer to God: “Absolve Your people Israel whom You redeemed…” 

What is the purpose of the leaders declaring “our hands did not shed this blood”? Rashi, citing midrash Sifrei asks, “do we really think the elders are murderers?” Rather, they mean that they never encountered this victim, and they did not leave a vulnerable person without help. This ritual underscores the value the Torah places on each and every life and the heavy responsibility on leaders to protect their people. Why, then, do they pray that God absolves all of Israel and not just themselves? When an innocent life is taken and justice is not served, the moral deficiency can reverberate in the nearby city and throughout all of Israel. So all of Israel must pause and reflect on what has occurred. This is why the tefillah seeks redemption for the entire nation. 

The eglah arufah is no longer practiced, but its core ideas remain relevant—especially this week. May the memories of Alexander, Almog, Carmel, Eden, Hersh, and Ori be a source of societal healing and redemption in our time. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Re’eh: Remembering we are One People

This year, the Jewish people have moved from a place of deep divisiveness to one of remarkable unity. Jewish tradition encourages diversity and debate while also cautioning against the risks of discord and division. Parshat Re’eh reminds us of the importance of maintaining this delicate balance.

“You are children of the LORD your God. You shall not gash yourselves (lo titgodedu) or shave the front of your heads (karha) because of the dead…God chose you… to be His treasured people.” What is the connection between these ancient mourning rituals and our status as God’s children, the chosen people? Rashi explains that the Torah prohibits these forms of mourning since they do not preserve our bodily dignity as the children of God. The Rabbis interpret the prohibition to be something else entirely – lo titgodedu: “Lo ta’asu agudot agudot” – Do not split into different factions. In Jewish law, this is generally applied in the context of communal disputes between rabbinic courts or synagogues in the same community. This issue became more acute with the ingathering of Jews from diverse places to Israel. Poskim discuss how to preserve one’s customs while not splitting into factions.

What is the purpose of this mitzvah? Rashi comments that it should not look like there are two Torahs. According to Rambam it is to prevent great conflict between Jews. Similarly, Yalkut Shimoni interprets the word “karha,” as an allusion to the kind of discord sown by “Korah” – don’t make a “karha” (deep divide) within the Jewish people. Perhaps this is why this prohibition is bracketed by reminders of our status as God’s children, the chosen people.

As Israel considers how to commemorate October 7th, the mitzvah of “lo titgodedu” can serve as a guiding principle – to avoid divisiveness and uphold the unity of our people. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson