Ekev: Uniqueness of Israel

What makes the land of Israel unique? Parshat Ekev offers key insights into the distinctive blessings and challenges that characterize the promised land, then and now.

As Moshe prepares the people for their entry into the land, the significance of Eretz Yisrael, and our relationship with it, is emphasized through several literary allusions. The parsha mentions three times that this is the land which “the Lord brings you to…” instilling a sense of faith and humility. Each of these references is followed by a caution: Do not take the land’s bounty for granted, do not forget God’s goodness, and do not assimilate into surrounding cultures. Additionally, Rabbenu Bahya notes that in Devarim 8, the phrase “the land” appears seven times within four consecutive verses. Israel is a place where the Jewish people can achieve the greatest blessings and accomplishments, but these gifts are not guaranteed—they depend on our actions and faithfulness.

The uniqueness of Eretz Yisrael is further described in Devarim 11:10: “For the land that you are about to enter and possess is not like the land of Egypt…”  In Egypt, says Rashi, the land was irrigated by water from the Nile. Israel is superior in that it “soaks up its water from the heavens,” emphasizing that blessings in Israel are bestowed by God, rather than solely through human effort. The Ramban however, disagrees and argues that Israel is more vulnerable than Egypt because its water supply is directly controlled by God, making it dependent on the people’s moral behavior and spiritual state.

Israel’s uniqueness lies in its inseparable bond with the Jewish nation dwelling within it. Then and now, Israel’s flourishing (agriculturally and in other pursuits), remains intertwined with us, its caretakers. May we not lose sight of our appreciation of the land and may God bless us with rains of security and abundance. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Va’etchanan: Shema and Enduring Faith

The unique status of the Shema prayer is not immediately apparent from its original context in parshat Va’etchanan. However, the interpretation of just two words helps us understand why it has become such a cherished prayer and a powerful symbol of enduring hope.

There is a well-known tannaitic debate regarding the words “בְּשָׁכְבְּךָ וּבְקוּמֶךָ” (“when you lie down and when you get up”). Beit Shammai taught that one must literally lie down at night and stand up in the morning while saying Shema. Rabbi Tarfon once followed this opinion and endangered himself while traveling at night. In contrast, Beit Hillel interpreted these words as referring to the times of recitation: “at the time” when people typically lie down (evening) and rise (morning). The law is decided according to Beit Hillel, who understood the essence of Shema as framing our days and nights. It also rejects the notion that the Shema should be a separate moment from life each day. Instead, it suggests that Shema embodies an enduring faith that flows through the everyday moments of our busy lives.

These same words are used to explain why the Oral Torah begins with the question: “From when does one recite the evening Shema?” Why does the Mishna start with the nighttime Shema before discussing the morning Shema? The main proof-text for this order is indeed “when you lie down and when you get up.” As Rav Yehuda Brandes points out, the timing for Shema is determined not by objective astronomical signs, but rather by the subjective daily rhythm of human beings. Moreover, this pattern reflects the rhythm of Jewish history: holding onto faith through the dark nights of persecution and challenges, and then emerging into the light of independence and redemption.
With each passing day, amidst the hovering threats, the Shema remains a steady anchor of faith. We continue to pray that each new day brings light and redemption—for the hostages and for all of Am Yisrael. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Devarim & Tisha B’Av: Response to Historical Trauma

The book of Devarim is also called mishneh Torah, the “repetition” of the Torah. The retelling of one story in particular – the meraglim (spies) – offers deeper insight into the purpose of this final book of the Torah and serves as a foundation for processing historical traumas in a constructive manner.

The first historical narrative Moshe shares with the second generation in the desert is the story of the spies. As Rav Tamir Granot points out, it is not the Exodus, the revelation at Sinai nor the sin of the golden calf. Why this story? Additionally, there are differences between the way this story is told here and how it is presented in Bamidbar. In Devarim, it is not God who initiates the sending of scouts, but rather the nation. And, it is not the spies, the tribal leaders, who spread criticism of the land, but the people. Rav Granot writes that Moshe chose to retell this story because its lessons were most relevant for this generation. Bamidbar’s version emphasized the failings of the leaders. In Devarim, Moshe emphasizes the people’s responsibility over the faults and failings of their leaders. 

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 contain stories of corrupt priests at the end of the Second Temple period. There is also the tale of enmity between Qamtza and Bar Qamtza and the silence of the rabbis who were with them, which led to the destruction of Jerusalem. Our leaders failed us then and some took responsibility for it. Ultimately, the rabbis teach, it was because of sinat chinam – worthless hatred between the people – that God destroyed the Temple.

Moshe’s imperative to us which resonates so deeply today: We need to hold our leaders accountable and learn from past failings. And yet, blame alone won’t get us very far. The most effective response to historical trauma, both then and now, is a call to responsibility for every member of the Jewish people. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Matot-Masei

Parshat Masei (of double parsha Matot-Masei) begins by summarizing Bnei Yisrael’s travels throughout their forty years in the desert as they approach the land of Israel. Many commentaries question why the Torah repeats this list of “masaot” (journeys), when they have already been described earlier in the Torah. Their answers contain wisdom and hope for the current “journey” of the Jewish nation.

The midrash Tanhuma likens this to a parent who takes his/her sick child to various places in search of healing. Afterwards, the parent recounts the experiences they had through each location. So too, God wants Bnei Yisrael to draw strength from hearing about overcoming hardship in their past and be reminded that they can do it again in the future. Rambam, in Guide to the Perplexed, teaches that re-telling the places Israel traveled highlights the miracles God provided for the Jewish people’s survival in the desert. Through preserving the memory of these miracles, future generations will find inspiration and faith. Sforno sees this re-telling as highlighting the goodness of Bnei Yisrael in the desert. He explains that the journeys are repeated “in order to compliment the Jewish people,” who 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: First, we can draw strength from our history, from overcoming past challenges. Second, we should be mindful of small miracles which we may experience over time. Third, we can look back and focus on the positive – we can appreciate our own perseverance and continue to draw strength and faith for the future. Chazak chazak ve’nitchazek. Shabbat shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Pinchas: Modeling Positive Change

“Be a light, not a judge. Be a model, not a critic” – Stephen Covey

When is criticism constructive? And when is it destructive and demoralizing? The daughters of Zelophehad, in parshat Pinchas, demonstrate how to lead positive change. They are a much needed model for today.

After the Torah describes how the land of Israel will be divided, the daughters of Zelophehad approach Moshe and request an inheritance in Israel, as they have no brothers to inherit land. The commentaries characterize them as having great “chibbah” (love) for Israel. The Talmud goes even further, describing them as “darshaniyot” (interpreters), tzidkaniyot (righteous) and “chachmaniyot” (wise). How do we see these qualities in their behavior?

The daughters emphasize that their father “died by sin in the midbar,” but not as a part of Korah’s congregation. Rashi explains that they emphasized that while their father sinned, he did not lead others to sin like Korah. Also, Korah spread unfounded criticism and refused to engage in dialogue with Moshe.

The midrash also contrasts the daughters of Zelophehad with the spies, who slandered the Land of Israel and spread negativity among the nation. Their words led to catastrophe for that generation. The midrash views the daughters’ words as the opposite of the language that previously led to disasters in Bamidbar. They are proactive. They embrace dialogue and use positive language by saying: “We want to be part of this too!”

Hashem’s response is “The daughters speak justly,” connoting deep affirmation. After the earlier stories of people who found ways to criticize and sow discord, these five women model proactivity, dialogue, positivity, and love of the Land of Israel. When we speak up for justice or work to effect change let’s follow in the footsteps of b’not Zelophehad. Shabbat Shalom🇮🇱- Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Balak: Jewish, Zionist and Alone?

Are the Jewish people destined to be isolated and demonized? Has having our own country only exacerbated Antisemitism and Anti-Zionism in the world? One verse in parshat Balak speaks directly to this issue: Can a particularistic Jewish identity coexist with a universalistic relationship with the world?

Bilaam, a non-Jewish prophet, is sent by Balak, king of Moab to curse the Jewish people. Yet, as the Talmud teaches, God turned his attempted curses into blessings. Bilaam, looking down on Bnei Yisrael, says they are “a people that dwells alone; not reckoned among the nations.” This hardly sounds like a blessing. In many ways it encapsulates the repeated struggle of the Jewish people throughout history to preserve their identity, resist assimilation and avoid persecution amongst the nations.

Most commentaries, however, regard this as a blessing for the Jewish people. Rashi teaches that it refers to the future when Israel will dwell safely in our land and not be punished like the other nations. The Malbim and Netziv, writing in Europe post-Enlightenment and amid experiences of Antisemitism, interpreted this verse within their historical context. When Jews are confident in their identity – they dwell in peace. When they assimilate – they are not worthy of being counted. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks provides a transformative reading of this verse: The blessing is for Jews to dwell “apart” – meaning our strength is in our distinctive experience and values. Yet, it is dangerous to remain alone. Through retaining our distinctiveness, we can and should have a positive impact on the other nations: “By being what only we are, we contribute to humanity what only we can give.”

Today, this verse also highlights the delicate balance Israel needs to maintain in the larger world. We need to work with our allies and take their concerns seriously and seek out those who wish to bless us. At the same time, we also need to remain strong and true to our identity and mission as the people of Israel. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Chukat: Transforming Fatigue into Commitment

Parshat Chukat marks a transformational moment for Bnei Yisrael as they begin to find their confidence and commitment as a nation, ready to live in their promised land. 

The parsha, as Ibn Ezra writes, has fast-forwarded to the 40th year of desert wanderings, after the first generation has mostly died out. It is a new generation, but it sounds like the same old complaints: “The soul of the people grew discouraged on the journey…” They said: “Why did you make us leave Egypt to die in the wilderness? … We have come to loathe this miserable food.” They sound tired and “hangry.” Rashi teaches that usually the Torah provides the source of the discouragement (kotzer nefesh), yet here it is ambiguous. Hence, says Rashi, it was the journey itself that caused their dejection. However, it stemmed from an impatient desire to go into Israel already. Similarly, the Ha’amek Davar paints the complaint about food in a positive light: like a baby who is tired of drinking his mother’s milk (manna) and is ready for solid food (produce of Israel).

This pivotal shift is reflected in the continuation of the parsha. First, after complaining, they immediately correct themselves and ask forgiveness of Moshe and God. They faltered but their faith was restored. Second, after the disappearance of the miraculous well which supplied them with water, the people proactively sing for water: “Az yashir Yisrael…” At the splitting of the sea the people sang with Moshe and Miriam, while here they were empowered to sing independently. Third, the people fight two wars, against Sichon and Og, where they rely less on miracles and more on their strength and faith. The Ha’amek Davar writes that Chukat is the beginning of Israel’s transformation, from dependence on overt miracles to experiencing God concealed through nature. 

We too, after nine months, may be feeling fatigue. Let’s make it the kotzer nefesh of commitment and eagerness needed to achieve success and hatzlacha for Israel. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Korach: Community with Diversity

Community is an essential part of Judaism. Parshat Korach is about the risks of separating oneself from the community or collective, a theme that remains relevant today.

The opening words allude to Korach’s divisiveness: “And Korach took…” It does not say what he took; it only lists a few of his followers. Ibn Ezra interprets this to mean he took others – anyone with a grievance – into his group. Rashi teaches: He purposely took himself out of the community to make a machloket (conflict). Ramban, citing the midrash, comments that Korach did not “take” anything; rather, his heart took control of him. Korach had been harboring his grievances and waited until Moshe’s leadership was weakened to take action. All of these interpretations highlight Korach’s refusal to engage in dialogue and his inability to find common ground with Moshe and Aaron.

How surprising it is then that Korach’s “edah” (congregation) is the source in the Talmud for the requirement to pray in a minyan (quorum) of ten men. The source for minyan is derived from a verbal analogy: Vayikra states that God should be sanctified “among” Bnei Yisrael. The word among is also used when God instructs Moshe to separate from “among” Korach’s “edah,” as attempts to reason with them were futile. The word “edah” is also used in the story of the spies, from which the number ten is derived for minyan. So the basis for communal prayer is derived from two groups of great sinners. 

Perhaps this was not only a literary connection, but rather a deeper point expressed by the rabbis. Separating and not engaging with diverse perspectives can lead to isolation and extremism. By deriving minyan from such imperfect models, the Sages encourage openness and inclusiveness within communities. This can also serve as a model for broader society—embracing diversity and debate while upholding a shared commitment. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Beha’alotcha: The Power and Pitfalls of Speech

Our world has been increasingly dominated by negative speech. Online communication has fueled the inability to engage in dialogue with people who think differently, alongside societal trends of “cancel culture” and “post-truth.” At the same time, the Torah teaches that speech is a gift given only to human beings, as seen in Targum Onkelos, who calls Adam in Bereshit “a speaking spirit.” Parshat Beha’alotcha highlights the power of speech to influence others, for both good and bad.

The parsha begins on a hopeful note. The pinnacle of Bnei Yisrael’s preparation to enter the land is expressed in the words we recite on Shabbat morning, “ויהי בנסוע הארון.” Immediately following this, is the story of the “mitonenim,” (bitter complainers) who spread unrest among the people by “complaining evil in the ears of Hashem.” To make this turning point even sharper, the previous verses are bracketed by two upside down letter “nuns.” Perhaps signaling that from this point on their lives would take a significant downturn.

The Ha’amek Davar teaches that the “mitonenim” start a downward spiral of faith for the generation in the desert. They had the greatest divine providence, yet, the provocateurs spread criticism which culminated with the spies who sowed negativity among the whole nation. Rashi comments that the words, “complaining evil in the ears of Hashem,” indicate that they were looking only for a pretext to provoke and stir up hatred, they had no valid criticisms. Hence, the strong punishment by God.

The potential power and pitfalls of speech is a theme which begins in our parsha and runs through sefer Bamidbar. In contrast, when Moshe recounts the travails of the Jewish people in the desert in the opening of Devarim, he models positive, constructive speech. Rashi teaches that Moshe changes the names of places to protect the dignity of Israel. How can we follow Moshe’s example in the way we communicate today? Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Naso: Blessing the whole Jewish people

Parshat Naso contains the short but powerful priestly blessing. The commentaries on birkat kohanim highlight its ongoing resonance for the Jewish nation.

Who gives the blessings? One verse suggests that the kohanim have the power to bless the people: “This is how you are to bless Bnei Yisrael…” However, it also states: “put My name on Bnei Yisrael, and I will bless them.” Rashbam explains that God is the source of blessings and the kohanim only offer up prayer. Sefer Hachinuch however, comments that the kohanim are the vehicle through which the bracha is transferred from God to the people. He adds that the people have a role as well – to desire the brachot. According to this, everyone has a role to play in causing brachot to flow. 

There are also many interpretations of the content of birkat Kohanim. Abarbanel, 15th century scholar and statesman, explains the three blessings as corresponding to the three elements which a nation needs to flourish: 1) economic protection and success, 2) wisdom and spirituality, and 3) the blessing of strength and peace, internally and externally. Abarbanel, who tried to prevent the expulsion of Jews from Spain, must have had a keen understanding of what it takes to be a successful nation and the importance of having a homeland for Jews, with an army to defend them. 

The brachot seem to be in ascending order and culminate with the blessing of peace. The Ha’amek Davar teaches that this is because shalom is the basis for all other brachot. This concept holds particular importance today, given the challenges we face. The Jewish people are stronger and better positioned to receive God’s blessings when we appreciate the importance of all three aspects of our nation – sustenance, spirituality, and inner solidarity combined with overall security. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson