The Power of Pause

There is something profoundly humbling about pausing before a meal to say a blessing. Whether seated at a Shabbat table or unwrapping a snack on a busy afternoon, the simple words “Baruch atah… borei p’ri ha’adamah” remind us that what we consume is not simply the work of our own hands, but part of a sacred partnership with the earth and with God. This week’s double portion, Behar-Bechukotai, invites us to expand that moment of gratitude into a vision of justice, rest, and renewal for the entire society.

In Parshat Behar, we’re introduced to the Shmita year—the sabbatical year—when the land is allowed to rest every seven years, and the Yovel—the jubilee year—after seven cycles of Shmita, when debts are forgiven, slaves are freed, and ancestral land is returned to its original family. These systems are not just about agriculture; they are about economic fairness, social equality, and creating a rhythm of pause and repair. 

Parshat Bechukotai continues by describing the blessings that come with following God’s statutes and the consequences if we turn away. Among the blessings are abundant harvests, peace in the land, and the assurance that God’s presence dwells among the people.

The blessing over the fruits of the earth—borei p’ri ha’adamah—captures the heart of these portions. We acknowledge that the land’s produce is not solely ours to command; it is a gift. When we say Birkat HaMazon after eating, we express gratitude not only for the food on our plates but also for the land of Israel, its covenantal promise, and the divine presence that sustains life. It’s easy to forget the source of our abundance, yet these blessings pull us back into relationship with the earth, with each other, and with God.

Behar and Bechukotai challenge us to ask: How can we build lives and communities that make space for rest, release, and fairness? Shmita and Yovel remind us that none of us truly “owns” the land, our wealth, or even our time; they are entrusted to us, and we are called to steward them with care. As we move through the week, may we find ways to practice release: letting go of control, forgiving debts, sharing resources, and allowing ourselves moments of true rest. 

At the Height of Power – Parshat Behar 5784

As someone who is (to use the euphemism) vertically challenged, I’ve been called “tiny but mighty” and reminded that “big gifts come in small packages.” It’s true, I often need to use a step so that I can be seen when I’m on the bimah, and I can’t reach the top shelf almost anywhere. On the other hand, I also have small feet and can wear kid-sized shoes, which saves me money and allows for more sparkles. Another advantage is I don’t usually worry about hitting my head on ceilings or not fitting into a seat on an airplane.

Sometimes our physical forms determine the challenges or advantages we face in the world, and there’s not much we can do about it. At the same time, often it’s the size of our hearts and the height of our intentions that make the difference. 

This week we read from Parshat Behar, the penultimate section of text in the book of Vayikra. The text details the laws of the returning of the land in Israel during the shmita (jubilee year) and how slaves and land are returned to their prior status. We also read about what happens to Jewish-owned land in the diaspora in the jubilee year and how we are to help those who are in need within our communities. The text ends with another warning against idolatry.

In the Torah portion, the Israelite nation is noted as being a “small nation,” and the mountain that stands as our touchpoint of grandeur and godliness is described as being the smallest in the region. The name of the portion, Behar, means “on the mountain,” which refers to Moses talking to God on Mount Sinai. It is odd then that the laws specified in this section of the text are about agriculture and land ownership, none of which are part of the current Israelite experience as a nation. Why would they be given here? 

Perhaps it’s because it’s easier to describe a system of law for a developing nation that emphasizes equality before land divisions and property ownership break people apart. Or, perhaps it’s because Sinai is the smallest mountain and Israel is the smallest nation in the region, yet both have the power to hold a place of influence, partnership, and justice in the world around them. Parshat Behar reminds us that physical size doesn’t matter; it’s how we make use of what’s given to us that’s most meaningful.

Circle of Support – Parshat Behar-Bechukotai 5783

I don’t know about you, but my mailbox is mostly filled with solicitations. Some are for the Jewish community (well, in my case most), and others are for wonderful organizations that we’ve donated to in the past, like Meals on Wheels, Boost Oregon, and the Oregon Humane Society. With the overwhelming need in our community at large, beyond just the affiliations we have, sometimes it feels like I just can’t do enough. And yet, that certainly doesn’t stop us from giving. Why? The answer is in this week’s Torah portion.

Behar-Behukotai warns us of the implications of what is essentially a snowball effect. This double portion focuses primarily on the laws of agriculture and land, but what makes this section of text unique is that it takes the notion of land ownership and farming and uses that to create a society in which no one group holds complete control forever.

We read about the 50-year land ownership cycle that requires us to allow the land to rest every seventh year. In the 50th year of the cycle, all land returns to its original owner. Imagine a farmer who falls on hard times because of a drought or poor crop. In order to sustain his family, he might sell off parts of his farm acre by acre. After 10 years he might have nothing left, and he might be forced off the land or forced to find another way to make a living. According to the Torah’s laws, in the 50th year, this farmer would receive back all his land and become his own landlord again. The Torah is helpful in identifying need, but how do we prioritize who we support and when we support them? This is the struggle of wanting to help everyone, but knowing you can’t possibly make an impact everywhere.

As a family, we guide ourselves by Hillel in Pirkei Avot: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? And, if not now, when?” This formulation, which was also our ALIYAH theme last year, has been one of Judaism’s main principles since the Torah, and our parshah this week speaks of one way to prioritize. First, we redeem those Israelites in captivity, then we find ways to help and sustain others. Our daily Kaddish prayer reminds us of this: “V’all kol Yisrael, v’all kol yoshevey teyel.” Those who dwell in our own community, and all those who are in our midst.

However, the community you make is up to you. You set your priorities by who you connect with, and the important thing is simply recognizing the most immediate need around you first. This week’s double portion reminds us that our innermost circle of support is just one of many ways that we provide for each other.

The Golden Rule – Parshat Behar 5782

There is perhaps no rule more golden, more paraphrased, or more often repeated than “Treat others as you yourself would like to be treated.” From the first time we’re taught as children how to interact with peers through the rest of adult life, this rule seems to be our default instruction. But why do we need reminding time and time again? Because our instincts include an element of self-preservation. It’s natural to want to be the best or the strongest. Kids want to be faster, older, taller. Adults want to feel intellectually superior. These are broad generalizations of course, but the point is that the “golden rule” isn’t necessarily human nature, which could be the reason we have to refer to it so often. Versions of the golden rule also echo throughout our Torah, perhaps because human nature can often lead us astray, or perhaps because it is just that critical to a functioning society, or maybe a little bit of both. 

This week we read from Parshat Behar, the penultimate section of text in the book of Vayikra. The text details the laws about “returning” the land in Israel during the shmita (jubilee year) and how slaves and land are returned to their prior status. We also read about what happens to Jewish-owned land in the diaspora in the jubilee year and how we are to help those who are in need within our own communities. The text ends with another warning against idolatry.

As the Torah continues to detail the ways in which we’re supposed to respect and value the land we live on, it also offers insight into the notion that respect for people and their dignity is also an imperative. In chapter 25, verse 43 God implores landowners to not deal ruthlessly with their workers. The word used here that is usually translated as “ruthlessly” is b’farek and only appears in this section of Torah and also when describing the ways that Pharaoh treated the Israelites in Egypt. The direct meaning of the Hebrew word as explained by the Mishneh Torah connotes a prohibition against embarrassing or humiliating the slave in an attempt to emphasize the master’s power over them. 

There is something inherently ruthless about exerting power through humiliation. It doesn’t just break the golden rule, it completely erases it. It’s sad and frustrating and even dangerous when this type of attack is perpetrated, whether by a country against its people or by an individual against another individual on social media. I look forward to the day when the golden rule is human nature and treating others as you want to be treated is the default, not the lesson that needs to be taught over and over again.

My House, My Rules – Parshat Behar 5779

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It seems to be happening more and more often. I open my mouth to say something to my children, and out comes something sounding exactly like one of my parents from when I was younger. Most often it is something to the effect of “My house, my rules,” and is usually in response to a child trying to test my limits or question a parenting decision. It’s hard for children to understand the truth, which is that as parents we make the rules not for the sake of having rules (although structure itself is always important), but for safety, security, and peace in our home. Rules are meant to bring a sense of order to the chaos and manage expectations for everyone and everything.

Teachers use this logic when setting classroom rules, and the same goes for laws at every level of governance. We live in a society in which rules, though they sometimes get broken, are imperative to setting order and guidelines for behavior. As we read Parshat Behar this week, the same holds true in the Torah. Behar discusses the preventative measures God has put in place for our land and our society to stay fertile and viable. It then continues with rules and obligations for inhabiting the land of Israel.

Ultimately, this week’s parshah focuses on God’s “house” and the expectations for living in that land. We are required to take care of the land, to share with one another, and to be truthful and compassionate. This land is not ours to own, rather it’s on loan to us from God. Chapter 25, verse 23 reminds us, “You are but strangers resident with me.”

The land of Israel belongs to God, the earth as a whole is a creation of God, and we are instructed to take care of this precious gift on loan to us. With God frequently playing the role of symbolic parent, you could think of this as “God’s house, God’s rules.” The rules don’t always make sense, and some of them may need adapting over time, but they were put into place for a reason. It’s our job to use this framework to maintain shalom bayit (peace in the home) in this giant home of ours.