Eikev: Community with Diversity

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In Parshat Eikev, Moshe continues his final address to Bnei Yisrael. One verse provides insight into how we view different levels of Torah observance within our homes and communities.

Moshe promises reward for keeping the mitzvot: the people will flourish, multiply, and inherit the Land of Israel. Yet the Torah uses an unusual phrasing: “All the commandment (kol hamitzvah)…you shall faithfully observe them.” First the verse refers to keeping “kol hamitzvah” which appears to be in the singular and then refers to keeping all mitzvot in the plural “tishmerun.” 

Rashi first explains that the singular refers collectively to all the mitzvot. Yet, unsatisfied with this logical interpretation, Rashi cites the Midrash Tanchuma, which derives a practical lesson: if you begin a mitzvah, strive to complete it. The one who brings a mitzvah to completion receives special credit. Although Moshe began the mitzvah of taking Yosef’s bones out of Egypt, Bnei Yisrael are credited with burying them in the Land of Israel because they completed the task.

Still, the Midrash does not diminish Moshe’s contribution. Likewise, the Talmud teaches that even one who learns only a single chok (statute) earns a share in the World to Come. The Kli Yakar similarly explains that the verse’s movement from singular to plural teaches that when an individual keeps mitzvot, there is benefit and reward for the wider community.

Perhaps Moshe understood that while completeness is the ideal, recognizing the value of partial observance encourages people to grow and take part in the Jewish community. Our task is not only to pursue our own spiritual growth, but also to recognize and value the role each person plays in building the Jewish people together. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Va’ethchanan & Nachamu: Messages of Comfort

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Shabbat Nachamu, the Shabbat of Comfort, always follows Tisha B’Av – a day that embodies Jewish suffering throughout the ages. What message of comfort does this juxtaposition offer the Jewish world and Israel today?

The message of Nachamu – the haftarah from Isaiah 40 – is that even after destruction, God’s comfort is assured. This theme is found in parshat Va’etchanan as well, which opens with Moshe’s heartfelt plea to enter the Land of Israel. Moshe had led and carried the Jewish people from their earliest days, yet because he disobeyed God, he was denied the privilege that even the simplest Jew can experience today – entering the Promised Land. God’s response initially seems harsh: “Look at it well, for you shall not go across this Jordan.” Yet the Sages understand this exchange differently. God compassionately comforts Moshe at the end of his life by allowing him to gaze upon the land, even if he cannot enter it. God also assures him that the future is hopeful: his disciple Joshua will lead the people into Israel.

No matter how difficult Jewish history has been, the Jewish people have always found the strength to read Nachamu after commemorating the tragedies of Tisha B’Av. The haftarah promises comfort to the people of Israel and to Jerusalem. It reminds us, as Moshe understood, that the soul of the Jewish people is bound to this land, and that we suffer and find comfort together.

Following a week in which New York’s thriving Jewish community has felt less secure, and in which the lessons of the churban and the dangers of baseless hatred have felt particularly relevant in Israel, these sources remind us what a blessing it is that Israel exists. Wherever we live, we must keep our gaze fixed on it and do all we can to strengthen and protect it. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Devarim: How We Retell Our Story

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The book of Devarim is also called Mishneh Torah, the “repetition” of the Torah. The retelling of one story in particular shows how the way we remember our past shapes both our leaders and ourselves.

The first historical narrative Moshe shares with the second generation in the desert is the story of the meraglim (spies). It is not the Exodus, the revelation at Sinai, nor the sin of the golden calf. Why this story? There are also notable differences between the account in Devarim and its original telling in Bamidbar. In Devarim, it is not God who initiates the sending of the scouts, but the nation. Nor is it the spies, the tribal leaders, who bear primary responsibility for rejecting the land, but the people themselves. Rav Tamir Granot explains that Moshe chose to retell this story because its lessons were the most relevant for this generation. Bamidbar emphasizes the failings of the leaders; Devarim shifts the focus to the responsibility of the people.

A similar approach was taken by the rabbis in retelling the story of the churban, commemorated on Tisha B’Av. Historical sources and the Talmud recount the corruption of the priesthood at the end of the Second Temple period. They also tell of the enmity between Qamtza and Bar Qamtza and the silence of the rabbis who witnessed it, all of which contributed to Jerusalem’s destruction. Our leaders failed us then, and some accepted responsibility for those failures. Ultimately, however, the rabbis teach that it was because of sinat chinam – baseless hatred among the people – that God destroyed the Temple.

These messages resonate powerfully today. We must hold our leaders accountable and learn from their failures. Yet blame alone cannot move a nation forward. The most enduring response to historical trauma – then and now – is for every member of the Jewish people to accept personal responsibility for shaping a better future. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Matot-Masei: Our Ongoing Journey

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Parshat Matot-Masei recounts Bnei Yisrael’s forty-year journey through the desert as they approach their ultimate destination – the Land of Israel. Many commentators ask why the Torah repeats the list of masaot (journeys) when they have already been described. Their answers offer wisdom and hope for the Jewish people’s own journey today.

The Midrash Tanhuma likens this to a parent who takes a sick child from place to place in search of healing. Afterwards, the parent recounts each stop along the journey, recalling the hardships endured and the healing that followed. So too, God reminds Bnei Yisrael of the challenges they overcame, so they may draw strength from the past and face the future with confidence. Rambam, in the Guide to the Perplexed, explains that recounting the places where Israel traveled preserves the memory of the miracles through which God sustained the Jewish people in the wilderness. By remembering these miracles, future generations will be inspired with faith and trust in God. Sforno understands the repetition as praise for Bnei Yisrael. The journeys are recorded, he writes, “in order to praise the Jewish people,” who faithfully followed God through a vast and dangerous desert.

We may have arrived at our promised land in 1948, but the Jewish people, in Israel and the diaspora, are still on a journey filled with achievements, loss, miracles, challenges and victories. The biblical repetition of the masaot provides a template for successfully navigating the current journey of the Jewish people: draw strength from the past, recognize the small miracles along the way, appreciate our resilience, and keep our eyes fixed on the ultimate destination – a secure, flourishing Israel and a redeemed future for the Jewish people. Chazak chazak ve’nitchazek. Shabbat shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Pinchas: Rooted in the Past, Building the Future

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Parshat Pinchas presents one of the Torah’s most remarkable moments of moral leadership, when the foundations of the emerging nation are tested for justice and compassion. How fitting that this story is read during a week that marks significant milestones for both Israel and the United States.

After the Torah outlines how the Land of Israel will be divided, the five daughters of Zelophehad approach Moshe and the nation’s leaders to request an inheritance, since their father left no sons. Their claim is so just that, as Rashi notes, God affirms it from on high. In contrast to the complaints and rebellions that precede their story, these women become champions of change rooted in devotion to Torah, respect for tradition, and the wisdom to recognize when renewal is needed. The rabbis bestow upon them their highest praise, calling them darshaniyot (interpreters), tzidkaniyot (righteous), and chachmaniyot (wise). They understood that correcting an injustice would strengthen not only their own future, but the future of the entire nation.

This week marks two significant milestones. The United States celebrates 250 years since the Declaration of Independence, while Israel has now passed 1,000 days since October 7 – a period of unimaginable loss, courage, and resilience. Both are moments to reflect on founding ideals: America’s vision of liberty, opportunity, and self-government, and Israel’s realization of the 2,000-year-old Zionist dream of a sovereign Jewish homeland. 

America at 250 and Israel after 1,000 difficult days are, each in their own way, unfinished stories. Like the daughters of Zelophehad, may we honor our roots while renewing the covenant that binds us together – building societies that remain faithful to their founding ideals while growing ever more just, compassionate, and inclusive for generations to come. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Balak: The Power to Bless

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Love versus hate. Blessing versus curse. These opposing themes lie at the heart of Parshat Balak.

The Midrash notes striking parallels between the characters of Balaam and Avraham. Both display remarkable zrizut – eagerness and determination in their mission. In the story of the Akeidah, Avraham rises early and saddles his own donkey to fulfill God’s command. Balaam likewise rises early and sets out with enthusiasm to carry out Balak’s request to curse the people of Israel.

The Midrash points out that both men had servants who could have saddled their donkeys for them. Yet Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai explains that in Avraham’s case, “love upends the social order,” while in Balaam’s case, “hate upends the social order.” Powerful emotions move people to act beyond what is expected of them.

Similarly, Pirkei Avot teaches that one may choose to be a disciple of Balaam, possessing an “evil eye,” or a disciple of Avraham, possessing a “good eye.” Balaam sought to curse an entire nation he did not know, while Avraham consistently sought opportunities to bless others. Accordingly, the Talmud teaches that at first God alone bestowed blessings, until that power was entrusted to Avraham and his descendants. Every day we face the same choice: to view the world with suspicion and resentment, or with generosity and blessing. Perhaps this is why we begin our morning prayers with Balaam’s curse-turned-blessing, “Mah Tovu,” reminding us of the perspective we aspire to cultivate.

At a time of rising hatred – between Jews and fellow Jews, through antisemitism, and in political movements fueled by anger and division – the message of this parsha feels especially urgent. Each of us must choose whether to follow the path of Balaam or Avraham. By becoming people who bless rather than curse, we can help bring more love, dignity, and blessing into the world. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Chukat: Sources of Well-being

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Parshat Chukat reminds us to care not only for our own well-being, but also for those around us. It highlights how easily we take precious relationships and sources of support for granted.

The parsha begins with Miriam’s death and Bnei Yisrael crying out for water. The Tosefta Sotah explains that a be’er accompanied and sustained Israel throughout their forty years in the desert in Miriam’s merit. After she died, the well disappeared and later returned in Moshe’s merit. This midrashic tradition highlights how easy it is to overlook the gifts and people who sustain us. Often, only a crisis reveals how much we depend on them for our physical and emotional well-being.

The Ramban suggests that the well which returns may actually be a new one, rather than Miriam’s original well. There are numerous elements which support this position. For the first time the people themselves sing for the water: “Az yashir Yisrael.” Also, unlike at the splitting of the sea, where they sang alongside Moshe and Miriam, here they sing independently. This be’er represents a generation becoming more mature, empowered, and responsible for its own future.

Miriam remains a model of caring for ourselves and one another. She is repeatedly associated with water and the preservation of life: watching over her baby brother Moshe at the Nile and leading the women in songs of praise at Yam Suf, demonstrating faith in God’s salvation even when the future was unclear. Centuries later, the Beit Yosef records a tradition that Miriam’s well reappears on Motzaei Shabbat and brings healing to those who drink from it. Miriam’s well disappears and then reappears, symbolizing sustenance, renewal, and refuah.

May all those who are in need of healing find their sources of strength, renewal, and recovery. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Korach: Toxic Alliances

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At first glance, Korach’s rebellion appears to be a cohesive protest movement. But a closer look at its participants uncovers a coalition bound more by opposition than by a shared vision – a timely lesson about causes and the alliances they attract.

The Torah introduces Korach’s followers: “And Korach took… together with Datan and Aviram… descendants of Reuven.” Who were Datan and Aviram, and what was their connection to Korach and his cause? Rashi explains that the camps of Levi and Reuven were situated next to one another. Hence, “Woe to the wicked, woe to his neighbor.” Proximity led these groups, each harboring grievances, to influence one another and join forces. Yet, as Ha’amek Davar notes, they were not motivated by the same concerns. Korach sought leadership, driven by an aspiration that may have been misguided but was not entirely self-serving. Datan and Aviram, by contrast, were habitual dissenters who attached themselves to any cause that fueled resentment and division.

The Midrash identifies Datan and Aviram as recurring antagonists throughout the wilderness journey. They were the Hebrews who informed on Moshe after he killed the Egyptian, those who defied God’s command by leaving manna overnight, those who spread panic at the Sea, and those who helped inflame the people’s rebellion after the spies’ report. More than an exercise in identifying biblical characters, the Midrash offers a portrait of a particular type of person – one whose defining characteristic is opposition itself.

The story of Datan and Aviram challenges us to think carefully about the people and movements with whom we align ourselves. Shared interests or common enemies can create unlikely alliances, but not all partnerships are wise. “Woe to the wicked, woe to his neighbor” – The people with whom we choose to stand ultimately shape not only our causes, but ourselves. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Shelach: Lessons on Leadership

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“A leader is a dealer in hope.” – Napoleon 

What was the failing of the meraglim in Parshat Shelach? Reading this story alongside another account of spies in the haftorah suggests that, at its core, it was a failure of leadership.

The Midrash Tanhuma interprets the words “Shelach lecha” (“Send for yourself”) to mean that the spies were sent as a concession to Bnei Yisrael’s lack of faith. This is, in fact, how the episode is retold in Sefer Devarim. God had promised that the people would successfully inherit the Land, but they harbored doubts. Moshe sends leaders, each identified by name, underscoring his status as a leader of his tribe. Rashi notes that the spies are initially described as anashim, connoting distinction and worthiness. Ramban explains that God instructed Moshe to send the strongest leaders, hoping they would inspire confidence and strengthen the nation’s faith in God’s promise. Instead, the opposite occurred. Ten of the twelve returned and spread fear throughout the camp. Their pessimism infected the people with doubt and helplessness.

This stands in sharp contrast to Joshua chapter 2, where Joshua also sends spies to scout the Land. Here, however, no names are mentioned. Radak explains that the mission was conducted in secret, hidden from the nation. The purpose of the mission also differs. In Shelach, the repeated use of the word latur suggests a political and national mission: to explore and affirm the land God had promised them. In Joshua, the spies are sent leragel—to gather military intelligence and determine the best strategy for conquering Jericho.

Contrasting these two stories highlights one of the most important qualities of leadership: the ability to provide a compelling vision and inspire hope. Great leaders help their people see not only what is, but what can be. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson 

Beha’alotcha: One Menorah for One People

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The menorah – described in Parshat Beha’alotecha*– has been a central symbol of Judaism from the Temple in ancient times to the Knesset in modern Israel. What has made the menorah such an enduring symbol of the Jewish people?

The commentaries raise several questions that illuminate this idea. First, why is the making of the menorah described here again after it has already appeared twice before? Second, why must the three branches on each side turn inward toward the central light?

The Torah describes the menorah as mikshah – fashioned, according to Rashi, from a single hammered piece of gold. The Midrash offers another layer of meaning: Moshe found the menorah extraordinarily difficult (nitkasheh) to create. No matter how many times God showed him the design, he was unable to reproduce it, until God miraculously completed it through fire. Perhaps the Torah’s repeated descriptions allude to this challenge. The menorah thus symbolizes a Divine ideal: many parts joined together in a single sacred whole.

The lighting of the menorah reinforces this message. Aaron is commanded to kindle the lamps so that the three branches on each side face the central light. Rashi explains that this teaches there is ultimately one true source of light in the world – God. Sforno offers another interpretation: the branches represent different kinds of Jews. Though some stand further to the right and others to the left, all remain part of the same menorah and all turn toward the center – a shared commitment and collective mission.

This election season in Israel feels especially consequential. The menorah offers a powerful image for both our leaders and society: despite our differences, we must continue to prioritize our shared commitment to our people, our tradition, and our land. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

*For the next few weeks I’ll be following the Torah reading schedule in Israel.