Returning To Our Strengths

This Shabbat is unique. Nestled between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Shabbat Shuvah, literally the “Shabbat of Return,” invites us into the sacred pause between beginnings and atonement. It is a moment for reflection, for choosing what direction we will turn our lives toward in the year ahead.

Parshat Vayelech seems almost tailor-made for this week. Moses, standing at the end of his life, prepares the people for their next chapter. He reassures them: “Chizku v’imtzu.” “Be strong and resolute, for it is God who goes with you; God will not fail you nor forsake you.” (Deut. 31:6) Moses then hands the mantle of leadership to Joshua, reminding Israel that even in moments of transition, blessing is found not in certainty, but in the abiding presence of God.

The Torah portion also introduces the mitzvah of hakhel, the great gathering every seven years, when all Israel, from elders to infants, assemble to hear Torah. This ritual highlights that blessing is not abstract; it is communal. The Torah becomes a blessing only when it is shared, heard, and lived together.

On Shabbat Shuvah, as we stand in the middle of the Ten Days of Awe, we too are asked to gather—not on a mountaintop or in a courtyard, but here in our community. We gather to remember that our return to God is not accomplished alone. The blessings of renewal, forgiveness, and life come alive in relationship with one another and with the Divine.

The message of Vayelech resonates deeply with the themes of teshuvah: turning and returning, blessing and being blessed. Blessing in Judaism is never only about what we receive; it is about what we generate. To bless is to name holiness, to bring awareness to God’s nearness, to transform ordinary acts into sacred opportunities.

As we walk through these holy days, may we feel the strength of Moses’s charge: “Be strong and resolute.” May we gather like our ancestors, seeking blessing not only for ourselves, but for our entire community. And may our turning toward God and toward each other in this season of teshuvah become the greatest blessing of all.

Torah, Step by Step

Have you ever had a task that seemed overwhelming until you actually started doing it, only to discover it wasn’t as hard as you feared? Maybe it was assembling a piece of furniture, running your first 5K, or trying a new recipe. The thought of the work can feel daunting, but when you take it one step at a time, the path forward often becomes less treacherous than expected.

Our tradition tells us that Torah can sometimes feel that way. At first glance, it can seem too vast, too complex, or too distant for us to grasp fully. However, Parshat Nitzavim reminds us otherwise: Torah is not unreachable; it is close, accessible, and waiting for us to live it.

In Nitzavim, Moses gathers all of Israel—leaders, elders, children, strangers, laborers—to stand together and renew the covenant with God. The portion stresses collective responsibility, not only of those present, but also of future generations bound to this covenant. It speaks of return (teshuvah) and ends with the stirring message that life and death, blessing and curse are before you. We are to choose life so that we and our descendants may live.

In the heart of this portion, we find a passage of great reassurance: “Lo bashamayim hi . . .”

“It is not in heaven . . . it is not beyond the sea . . . but very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” (Deut. 30:11–14)

This teaching is the foundation for the blessing La’asok B’divrei Torah. “Blessed are you . . . who commands us to engage in words of Torah.” We do not bless God for completing Torah, or for mastering Torah, but for engaging in it. The blessing affirms that the work is not about perfection, but about participation. Torah is ours to wrestle with, to question, to study, and to live.

This resonates deeply with the declaration of our ancestors at Sinai: “Na’aseh v’nishma.” We will do, and we will understand. The Israelites promised to engage in Torah through action first, trusting that deeper understanding would follow. Just as Nitzavim says Torah is already in our mouths and hearts, na’aseh v’nishma reminds us that through living Torah, we bring it closer. It becomes accessible not just intellectually, but spiritually and communally.

Parshat Nitzavim comes to us each year right before Rosh Hashanah, as we stand on the threshold of a new year. It challenges us to see Torah not as an intimidating mountain or a distant ocean, but as something already within our grasp. It is already in our hearts and mouths, waiting for us to do it.

A Mountain of Choices

From the moment we wake up until the moment we go to bed, our days are filled with decisions. We are constantly making choices, from what to eat, what to wear, what words to say. Some decisions are small, like whether to take the freeway or the back roads. Others are much bigger, shaping our character or even the legacy we leave. Judaism teaches that even in the ordinary, our choices are infused with holiness. And one of the most powerful ways we frame this is through the blessings we say before learning Torah or performing mitzvot.

Parshat Ki Tavo includes one of the most memorable covenantal moments in the Torah. As the Israelites prepare to enter the Land of Israel, Moses instructs them to divide between two mountains: Mount Gerizim, symbolizing blessings, and Mount Ebal, symbolizing curses. There, they publicly affirm their commitment to God’s commandments, declaring aloud the blessings that flow from faithfulness and the consequences of neglect. It’s a dramatic reminder that Torah is not abstract; it lives in our choices, and those choices have impact.

This moment at Gerizim and Ebal resonates with blessings we say every day. Before we engage with sacred text, we recite the Birkat HaTorah: “Blessed are you … who has chosen us and given us the Torah.” Before performing a commandment, we say the Birkat HaMitzvot: “…who has sanctified us with commandments and commanded us to…” These words echo the covenantal choice in Ki Tavo. Each blessing is a declaration that Torah and mitzvot are not just rituals we check off, but pathways to blessing—ways we bring holiness into our lives.

Standing between those two mountains, the Israelites learn that blessing doesn’t descend on us passively. It’s the result of choosing to live with intention, guided by Torah. Every time we recite these blessings, we symbolically return to that valley between Gerizim and Ebal, and we choose again.

This week, as we read Ki Tavo, may we hear the call from those ancient mountains in our own lives. When we bless Torah study and mitzvot, let us remember we are not simply reciting words, but affirming our covenantal choice to walk in blessing in our daily actions, big and small. 

Blessings for Daily Life and Responsibility

Think about the little blessings in your daily life. Not just the words “Baruch atah Adonai” that start our prayers, but the moments that remind you to pause: fastening your seatbelt, checking in on a friend, holding the door open for a stranger. These small acts don’t always feel holy, but they are the threads that bind our communities together. 

Parshat Ki Teitzei is overflowing with mitzvot—more than 70 in total—spanning topics of family, justice, compassion, business, and community. Some seem weighty, like laws of inheritance or capital punishment. Others seem small, almost ordinary: return your neighbor’s lost ox, build a guardrail on your roof, send away the mother bird before taking eggs. The Torah presents a vision of holiness not only in great rituals but in the everyday details of how we live together.

Each of these mitzvot invites us to respond with a blessing formula: Baruch atah Adonai, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu. “Blessed are you, Eternal One, who has sanctified us with commandments and commanded us…” The words remind us that holiness isn’t only found within the walls of Neveh Shalom or in our homes on Shabbat, but in our daily responsibilities. For example:

  • Returning a lost object (22:1–3) transforms inconvenience into kindness.
  • Building a fence around your roof (22:8) turns private property into shared responsibility, preventing harm to others.
  • Sending away the mother bird before taking eggs (22:6–7) teaches compassion and gentleness toward even the smallest of creatures.

These mitzvot, and the blessings that accompany them, create a rhythm of sanctity in daily life. By reciting blessings, we pause, notice, and elevate acts that might otherwise pass by unnoticed. In doing so, we acknowledge that safeguarding life and practicing compassion are not optional extras but the very core of Jewish living.

Ki Teitzei challenges us to see our daily actions as opportunities for blessing. Each time we care for another person, act with responsibility, or protect the vulnerable, we are living the words asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav. This week, don’t wait for Shabbat or holidays to sanctify your life. Make a blessing with your actions: return what isn’t yours, put up your “fences” of care and caution, and treat others with compassion. In doing so, may our ordinary days be filled with extraordinary holiness.

The Art of Enough

In a world that constantly tells us we need more—more success, more space, more stuff—it’s hard to know when we’ve reached enough. New phone models and operating systems are released before we can learn the current ones, our homes get fuller even as we run out of closet space, and our social media feeds suggest that everyone else always has a little more than we do. What does it mean to be truly content with what we have?

Parshat Shoftim is known for its famous call to justice: Tzedek, tzedek tirdof. “Justice, justice shall you pursue.” (Deut. 16:20). But among its many laws governing leadership and society, there’s a more subtle commandment that speaks volumes: “You shall not move your neighbor’s boundary marker…” (Deut. 19:14)

This verse may seem mundane, but it’s deeply ethical. It safeguards not just property, but the principle that what is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours. It’s about honoring sacred space, whether physical, emotional, or communal.

Each morning, we say a series of Birkot HaShachar—blessings for waking up and stepping into the day. One of them is: Baruch atah … she’asah li kol tzarki. “Blessed are you … who has provided me with all I need.”

This simple blessing is a daily reminder to embrace sufficiency. When we internalize that we have enough, we are less likely to covet what belongs to others, less tempted to cross boundaries, and more inclined to respect the space and needs of those around us.

The Torah’s prohibition against moving a boundary marker is not just about land; it’s about a mindset of enoughness. It challenges us to build a society rooted in fairness and gratitude, not greed.

This week, consider: where in your life do you need to redraw a boundary, not to take more, but to better honor what already is? Can you approach your home, your work, and your relationships with the quiet confidence that you have enough? By living with gratitude and respecting the sacred boundaries of others, we turn the morning’s simple blessing into a daily act of justice.