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.

The privilege and good fortune of a full life on earth carries with it countless inescapable lessons of humility along the way. Whether it’s the result of saying, “Watch this!” as a child or being let go from a job you’ve held for years, humans don’t have to learn to be humble. It’s forced on us.

This is also the reality we’ve learned after two and a half years of navigating Covid. You can wear a mask, get vaccinated, practice good hygiene, and keep your distance from others, and still get Covid. It’s clear these preventative measures help slow the spread and lessen the severity, but you can’t convince Covid that you’re too good or too proud to be susceptible. 

The Torah, naturally, suggests that this isn’t the first time humanity has encountered a reminder like this, and it surely won’t be the last. This week we read Parshat Nitzavim, which teaches us this lesson, albeit in a slightly cryptic way. 

This Torah portion is primarily about establishing ourselves as a people and the warnings against becoming complacent. It begins with God telling the Israelites about the covenant they’re making together and how binding it is. Nitzavim is typically translated as “stand firmly,” which makes sense as one of the final moments of the Israelite nation receiving direct guidance from God and from Moses before they enter the Land of Israel.

While much of the parshah talks about what not to do, one verse focuses on the intention behind those transgressions. Deuteronomy 29:18 states: “When hearing the words of these sanctions, such a one may imagine a special immunity, thinking, ‘I shall be safe, though I follow my own willful heart’—to the utter ruin of moist and dry alike.” 

It’s not entirely obvious what is meant by “moist and dry alike,” but the message is that no one is immune, so to speak. Overconfidence and arrogance – these are the characteristics that make us believe that our actions somehow don’t affect the rest of the community. In reality, though, what we do sends ripples into the world, branching out like a contagion. 

There’s a quote attributed to the 19th-century Jewish scholar Rabbi Bunim of P’shiskha that combines two opposing Jewish teachings. “Everyone must have two pockets, with a note in each pocket; one should read: ‘For my sake was the world created,’ and the other should read: ‘I am but dust and ashes.’”

We must see value and worth in ourselves, and at the same time acknowledge the relative insignificance of this ephemeral gift we’re given. That just gives us all the more urgency to make the most of the time we have, and there’s no time like the new year to get started.

Our actions cause reactions. As the English 80s rock group The Fixx sang, “One thing leads to another.” You only have to look as far as the local news for the past year and a half to see what it means literally for something to go viral. The domino-effect spread of Covid-19 has changed virtually every aspect of our behavior and our lives. Originally we thought only certain portions of the population were at risk, and while severity does depend on other factors, for purposes of spreading itself, the virus doesn’t know the difference between us. And now because of a more contagious variant, we’ve begun to reinstate some of the precautions we previously had in place in order to protect each other. 

Perhaps more dangerous than the novel coronavirus itself is that there are those who believe that they are invincible or that somehow others are impervious to the spread of the virus. The moral imperative that we must respect fellow human lives – and, sadly, the disregard for this imperative – is certainly not a new idea. The Torah spends almost the entirety of its books focusing on lessons to live a moral and ethical life, and this week we read Parshat Nitzavim, which teaches us this lesson quite clearly. 

The Torah portion begins with God telling the Israelites about the covenant they are making together and how binding it is. In the course of the text, God implores us to choose life. The goal is to see blessings and curses and to know that when we make choices, it affects not only us, but all those in our community. This is clear in chapter 29, verse 18 as we read, “When such a one hears the words of these sanctions, he may fancy himself immune, thinking ‘I shall be safe, though I follow my own willful heart’ – to the utter ruin of moist and dry alike.” The Torah is warning us against those who think themselves or their family members to be invincible. 

Believing you’re immune or impervious to the world isn’t heroic or courageous in any way. It’s a curse. God reminds us that this mindset ultimately leads to devastation and to the destruction of our society. Judaism is not “every person for themselves.” It is a religion based on the strength of our relationships and connections. It is a religion that is fulfilled when we’re in community and looking out for the good beyond our own homes or our own needs. What we’ve learned in the 18 months since Covid-19 has taken hold of our society is exactly this. We’re all in this together, and as such, we must work together towards what strengthens us.