Vayikra: The Call to Us

The opening of parshat Vayikra – when God calls to Moshe and invites him into the Mishkan – offers a powerful perspective on, and deep appreciation for, the challenging yet historic time we are living through in Israel.

Although Sefer Vayikra begins a new book with seemingly different themes, the Ramban sees it as a direct continuation of Sefer Shemot. The final verses of Shemot describe a striking moment: “Moshe could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle.” Moshe stands outside, unable to enter the very space he helped create. Yet the story does not end there. The opening words of Vayikra – “And the Lord called…” – complete that scene. Even the first letter, the vav hachibbur, signals continuity: what appears to be a new beginning is, in truth, part of an unfolding story. The Torah reminds us that even when we cannot immediately perceive the connections between moments, they are present, waiting to be uncovered.

Why, then, must Moshe wait to be called before entering the Mishkan? Perhaps the Torah is teaching that even Moshe, the greatest of prophets, does not presume access to holiness. Entry requires invitation, humility, and awareness. Sacred spaces – even those we help build – must never be taken for granted. This, too, contains a lesson for us. We live in an era in which the State of Israel exists, strong and vibrant, yet we must never take its existence for granted.

In these challenging times in Israel, it is not always easy to see how the events of recent years fit into a larger narrative. Vayikra – the call to us – reminds us that we are living through a significant chapter in the unfolding Jewish and Israeli story, and that, like Moshe, each of us is called upon not to take this historic moment for granted. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Acharei Mot-Kedoshim: How to Be Holy

“Be holy!” So begins Parshat Kedoshim (of this week’s double parsha): “Because I, God, am holy.” What does it mean to cultivate holiness—in our lives and in the world?

Rashi understands “Be holy” as a call to separate from forbidden sexual relationships, linking it to the previous parsha, Acharei Mot, which details these prohibitions. For Rashi, holiness means setting boundaries in relationships and abstaining from what is forbidden. The Ramban, however, offers a different interpretation. After listing specific prohibitions, the Torah calls on us to elevate even permissible behavior. One can technically keep the law and still act in a base or gluttonous way—a naval b’reshut haTorah. According to the Ramban, holiness requires moderation, intentionality, and moral refinement—not just avoiding sin, but rising above it.

While both commentators read “Be holy” in relation to what comes before, we can also understand it in light of what follows: a list of interpersonal mitzvot. The Midrash Sifra teaches that this section was read aloud to the entire nation during hakhel, because it contains the core values of the Torah. After laws centered on the Mishkan and the kohanim, the Torah introduces a transformative idea: kedusha is not limited to sacred spaces or select individuals—it is accessible to everyone. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks zt”l called this “the radical democratisation of holiness.” By showing compassion for the vulnerable, and by infusing our daily interactions with care and justice, we bring holiness into the world. How are we to be holy? “Because I, God, am holy.” We are called to reflect the divine image within us.

One final idea comes from Rav Aharon Lichtenstein zt”l, whose 10th yahrzeit was recently marked. He taught that “a Jew is also commanded to aspire.” In this light, “Be holy” becomes a call to transcend the letter of the law—to keep striving upward in moral and spiritual growth. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Shemot: On Crying and Redemption

What prompted the redemption from Egypt? One significant word in parshat Shemot marks the turning point from enslavement to freedom.

After years of suffering, b’nei Yisrael cry out (“va-yiz’aku”) from the overwhelming burden of bondage and their cry rose up to God. Then God hears their groan and sees their suffering. What is the significance of this moment? Rashi interprets: God directed His heart to them and no longer remained hidden. Ramban highlights the role of Israel in prompting the ge’ula: Israel’s cry, meaning their prayers, stirred God’s mercy. This is similar to Ramban’s opinion elsewhere, that the epitome of prayer is when one calls out to God in time of distress. Ramban also teaches that the time of ge’ula (redemption) had already passed and the people were not worthy of being redeemed. Yet, their deeply emotive tefilla had the strength to start the redemption process. As Nechama Leibowitz writes, “The sudden and successive re-appearance of the Divine name in the text signaled the end of the period of [God’s] estrangement from the world.” 

This “crying out” recalls another story in Torah, also of nearly lost hope. In Sodom, an outcry – “tze’aka” – reaches God. The midrash teaches that this was the cry of a young maiden, one of Lot’s daughters, who had tried to help and feed a poor man. When the men of Sodom found out and wanted to burn her, her cry was so powerful that it reached God, who then descended to Sodom. God is especially responsive to the outcry of those who are suffering. 

The Torah also instructs us not to oppress the stranger, widow or orphan, because God will immediately hear their outcry. “Tze’aka” demonstrates the power of prayer, no matter how distant God seems. Redemption comes about through tefilla and by fostering the ability to hear the cry of the vulnerable and suffering around us. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson