Lech Lecha: From “Me” to “We”

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“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I?” – Pirkei Avot 1:14

Avraham is the paradigm of chesed and compassion, of caring for others. For this reason, Rashi’s commentary on the opening words of Parshat Lech Lecha is surprising. Noting the kefel lashon, the seemingly repetitive language, Rashi interprets “Lech lecha” as “Go for yourself.” Avraham’s journey to an unspecified destination was ultimately for his own benefit. By setting forth with faith in Hashem, Avraham would be rewarded with becoming the father of a great nation. The Zohar similarly interprets “Lech lecha” as “Go unto yourself… to know and to fix yourself.” Before Avraham could inspire others, he first needed to journey inward and strengthen himself.

A similar idea is expressed by two great Jewish thinkers in their reflections on how we begin each day. Rav Kook, in Olat Reiyah, comments on the Modeh Ani prayer. When we awaken and contemplate the vastness of the universe, we might feel small and insignificant. Yet, by emphasizing the “I” (ani) and drawing on our inner strength and gratitude to God, “the individual self remains undaunted, the ‘I’ finds divine confirmation and validation.” Rebbe Nachman of Breslov offers a related insight in his commentary on the opening words of the Shulchan Aruch, which instruct us to awaken with the strength of a lion. Rebbe Nachman understood that people sometimes wake up feeling unhappy with themselves, distant from God, or unmotivated. He therefore encourages us to find a nekuda tova, a good point within ourselves, on which to focus and build.

These teachings offer a powerful lesson about leadership. Avraham reminds us that inspiring others begins with cultivating our strengths, deepening our faith, and preparing for the responsibilities ahead. Personal growth is not the end in itself, but the basis for making a difference in the lives of others. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Noach: Recognizing True Leadership

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Parshat Noach introduces the Torah’s first tyrant, whose story and classical commentaries offer moral clarity about the tactics of tyranny, both ancient and modern.

Between the stories of the Flood and the Tower of Babel, we encounter a few verses about Nimrod. The biblical account does not initially seem particularly harsh: “He was a mighty hunter before the Lord… The beginning of his kingdom was Babel” (Genesis 10:8–10). Yet the classical commentators portray him as the archetypal tyrant: The repeated emphasis on his might, the reference to Babel, and the association of his name with rebellion (mered) all contribute to this interpretation. Even the description of Nimrod as a hunter “before the Lord” takes on a sinister meaning.

Rashi teaches that Nimrod would “ensnare people’s minds with his words and mislead them into rebelling against God.” Nimrod emerges as a ruler who captivates people through charisma and manipulates them through rhetoric. He “hunts” people’s minds, sacrificing truth for power. The Midrash further portrays Nimrod as an instigator of the rebellion against God in the Tower of Babel story. Babel becomes a failed experiment in enforced uniformity, where collective power comes at the expense of individual freedom.

In stark contrast to Nimrod stands Abraham. Breaking with his pagan surroundings, Abraham champions difference and pursues truth even when it means standing alone. While Abraham seeks truth through reason and conviction, Nimrod demands obedience through manipulation and force.

These contrasting models offer a timeless lesson in recognizing tyranny. True leadership is measured not by power, but by how it is used. Parshat Noach teaches us how to distinguish between truth and manipulation, moral courage and coercion, and genuine unity and enforced conformity. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Bereshit: Taking Responsibility

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Why does the Torah begin with stories of human failings? Parshat Bereshit offers insight into human nature and the foundations of moral responsibility.

Adam and Chava are permitted to eat from any tree in the Garden of Eden except the Tree of Knowledge. Yet temptation gets the better of them, and they sin. Worse still, neither takes responsibility. When God asks Adam, “Ayeka?” (“Where are you?”), Adam blames Chava, who in turn blames the serpent. Their son Kayin becomes the first murderer. After killing his brother Hevel, God asks, “Where is your brother?” Kayin notoriously responds, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Once again, responsibility is evaded.

Nechama Leibowitz describes Parshat Bereshit as portraying the gradual “decline of man.” Adam and Kayin are followed by Lemech, who boasts of killing a man, and the bnei ha’elohim, who, now acting as a group, take women as they please, reflecting a widespread abuse of power. Perhaps this is precisely the Torah’s message: When individuals, and ultimately societies, fail to take responsibility for their actions, the consequences extend beyond the original wrongdoing, leading to further moral decline.

Yet Bereshit Rabbah offers a more hopeful perspective. After Kayin is judged by God, Adam asks about his sentence. Kayin replies that he repented and received a reduced punishment. Astonished, Adam exclaims, “Such is the power of teshuva, and I did not know!” He then recites the words, “It is good to give thanks to God” (Psalm 92), with the Hebrew lehodot suggesting both gratitude and confession.

By acknowledging wrongdoing and taking responsibility, we can break the cycle of blame and moral decline. Perhaps this is why the Torah begins with human failings: to remind us that moral growth begins with responsibility, both individual and collective. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Shoftim: On Moral Leadership

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The laws governing various forms of leadership in Parshat Shoftim highlight both its challenges and moral responsibilities, while empowering individuals to ensure that those who lead are worthy of the positions they hold.

Alongside the Torah’s command to appoint judges in every town comes the warning that judges must not show favoritism or accept bribes, and the charge: “Justice, justice you shall pursue.” When the people seek to appoint a king, the Torah anticipates the ways in which a king might abuse his power: he must not accumulate too many wives or excessive wealth, and he must keep a Torah scroll with him as a constant reminder of God and the mitzvot. Shoftim also discusses priests and prophets, who are chosen by God. Yet their power, too, has limits: the kohanim do not receive a territorial inheritance, and the prophet must be careful to convey only the word of God. Along with stature come sacrifice, restraint, and responsibility.

Yet responsibility does not rest only on the shoulders of leaders; it belongs to the people as well. The Sefer HaChinuch teaches that the biblical command to appoint judges to a beit din is “incumbent on every community, in every place.” Just and moral leadership depends, in part, on the people who choose and appoint their leaders. This idea is reinforced by the Sifrei’s interpretation of “Justice, justice you shall pursue.” The Sifrei teaches that this means that the individual must “seek out the finest beit din.” We, too, are called upon to pursue justice by seeking out and supporting leaders worthy of our trust.

This idea is also reflected in the tefilla for the State of Israel. We pray to God: “Bestow Your light and truth upon its leaders… and grace them with Your good counsel.” The prayer reminds us that good leadership requires both divine guidance and human responsibility. As we enter the coming months of election campaigns and public debate, may we have the wisdom to choose, and the merit to be blessed with, moral, just, and inspiring leaders in our time. 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

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

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 

Vayigash: Resolving Family Discord

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Vayigash teaches us how to resolve deep discord. For more than twenty years, Yehuda and Yosef represent a family torn apart by conflict, resentment, and estrangement. They remain divided until this moment, when reconciliation finally becomes possible. Yehuda now steps into his role as a leader, and Yosef rises above the pain of the past to act with grace. Their story of family rupture and repair offers a powerful model for our larger family – the people of Israel. 

Yehuda takes the first step and approaches his brother: “Vayigash Yehuda.” This is a pivotal moment in the story. At their lowest point, the brothers “could not speak peaceably” with Yosef; Rashi describes their disdain as having moved on from feelings of brotherhood. Yet here, Yehuda – still unaware that Yosef is his brother – pleads with him to honor the promise made to their father and to protect the youngest brother, Binyamin.

Yehuda’s  willingness to draw close, to speak honestly, and to take responsibility is what ultimately touches Yosef’s heart and bridges the divide. Yehuda models what moral leadership looks like.

At the same time, Yosef rises above potential resentment and reveals himself to his brothers with grace. As Nechama Leibowitz notes, Yosef’s choice of language reflects his inner transformation. First he emphasizes that his brothers sold him into slavery. Yet, soon after he reframes the story using the language of shlichut, recognizing God’s larger plan in bringing him to Egypt to save his family and, ultimately, his people.

The Jewish people need both of these voices today: leaders who take responsibility, like Yehuda, and individuals who, like Yosef, are able to rise above resentments and focus on the larger picture, asking what constructive role each of us can play now for Am Yisrael. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Parshat Vayakhel: Leadership from the Bottom Up

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One of the defining features of the Mishkan’s construction, as described in Parshat Vayakhel, is the collective participation of the entire nation. While Betzalel was appointed by God as chief architect, the contributions of the people were essential. Two midrashic insights into this dynamic between leadership and the people resonate deeply with Israeli society today.

First, after Bnei Yisrael—particularly the women—generously donated materials, the tribal chieftains (nesi’im) brought onyx stones. Rashi, citing Bamidbar Rabbah, questions why they gave last instead of leading. The midrash explains that they were offended they had not been asked first and waited to see what was needed, only to find that the people had already given beyond expectations. Left with little to contribute, they brought onyx stones. Learning from this, they were the first to donate at the altar’s dedication in Bamidbar. This teaches that when leaders falter, the people can rise to the occasion and ultimately inspire their leaders to follow. 

A second model of leadership emerges from the midrash on Moshe’s role in constructing the Mishkan. At the end of Shemot, the Torah states that all the components of the Mishkan were brought to Moshe, and “the Mishkan was raised.” The midrash, noting that it would be impossible for one person alone to lift it, teaches that the Divine spirit rested upon Moshe, enabling the Mishkan to be assembled. Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein points out that while many skilled craftsmen contributed, none could see the full picture of the Mishkan. Moshe, who had not personally contributed materials, played a different yet critical role—humbly uniting the collective efforts of the people into a completed whole.

The Mishkan teaches that true leadership is one which unites the whole nation and that sometimes it is the people who ultimately lead the way. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson

Vayeshev: Shining the Light of Moral Strength

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What can leaders today learn from Yosef? Yosef’s beginnings in parshat Vayeshev do not portend a great leader, even if his dreams predict otherwise. He is busy stirring up his brothers’ jealousy. The midrash depicts him as self-interested and frivolous. Yet, from the moment he is thrown into a pit, Yosef undergoes a transformation of character and emerges from dark times into a leader who spreads the light of his identity and faith to the outside world.

After the Torah describes the sale of Yosef, he is “taken down” (hurad) to Egypt. Midrash Bereshit Rabbah sees deeper meaning in this “yeridah” (descent) and understands it to be a spiritual decline. Yosef, perhaps at his greatest low, immersed in Egyptian culture, finds himself alone with Potiphar’s wife, who tries to seduce him. According to one Talmudic opinion, Yosef intended to sin with her. Only when he looked up at the window and saw an image of his father did he overcome his temptation and act responsibly and righteously. Alone, in a foreign land, this was a great test of faith. When he reacts with moral strength, this is a sign that he was destined to be a true leader.

Hanukkah too, is a time which spotlights the darkness of Jewish assimilation. The Maccabees were battling fellow Jews who chose Hellenistic cultural trends over Judaism and were willing to abandon core Jewish beliefs and mitzvot. The antidote to this, can be found in the way we light the Hanukkah candles. The Talmud teaches: “It is a mitzvah to place the Hanukkah lamp at the entrance to one’s house on the outside.” The Hanukkah lights are a reminder that by strengthening the light in our home – tradition, identity, morality and faith, we then can shine those values outward to the world. 

Yosef and Hanukkah’s message for leaders today: Cultural and ideological trends have led to a distorted view of reality and darkened the light of moral clarity. True leaders are those who can distinguish between good and evil, light and darkness. Shabbat Shalom and Hanukkah sameach -Karen Miller Jackson