Choices

This is the d’var Torah I delivered at Congregation Neveh Shalom on Saturday, September 5, 2026.


Choices, choices. Chocolate or vanilla. Window or aisle. There are some choices in life that are wonderfully easy. Stay up for one more episode or take the responsible action of going to bed. Ok, maybe that one isn’t quite so easy. 

But then there are the choices that actually shape our lives. I’m not talking about choosing between things that are obviously good and obviously evil. Those are rare. More often, it’s between two things we value. Do I speak up, knowing I might hurt someone, or stay quiet, knowing silence has a cost? Do I protect a relationship or hold firm to a principle? Do I choose what is comfortable now or what might create something meaningful later? The hardest choices are difficult precisely because there is something important on both sides. 

That is where we meet Moses this week in the combined portions of Nitzavim and Vayelech. Israel stands on the edge of the Promised Land, and Moses stands at the end of his life. He gathers the entire community and reminds them that Torah is not beyond their reach: “It is not in heaven.” It is close to us, “in your mouth and in your heart to do it.” And then comes one of Torah’s most famous declarations: “I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life.” 

Is it me, or is this the most obvious choice ever? Who would choose death over life? Who would choose curse over blessing? 

Well, the Torah could be asking a harder question. Not simply, “Do you want to live?” but, “What kind of life are you choosing to build?” 

Because we choose our lives incrementally. We build them through hundreds, maybe thousands, of decisions that may not feel monumental in the moment. We choose whether to show up. Whether to listen. Whether to forgive. Whether to apologize. Whether to make room for another person. Whether to stand by our values when doing so costs us something. 

And Vayelech reminds us that even Moses must make a painful choice. He cannot cross into the land. He must hand leadership to Joshua and trust that the story can continue without him at its center. Sometimes choosing life means holding on. Sometimes it means letting go. Sometimes it means recognizing that our responsibility is not to control the outcome, but to choose our next step with integrity. 

As we approach Rosh Hashanah, perhaps that is the invitation of Nitzavim-Vayelech. We are not being asked to make perfect choices. Life is far too complicated for that. We are being asked to make choices that add substance to our lives. 

So this week, don’t stop at “What do I want?” or “What is easiest?” Ask: Which choice helps me become the person I want to be? Which choice adds blessing? Which choice creates a life worth living? 

U’vacharta bachayim. Choose life. Again and again and again. 

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.

Show and Tell – Parshat Nitzavim-Vayelech 5784

One of the things that has stuck with me from when I was doing the coursework for my Master of Education degree was learning about the different modalities through which people best receive information. It’s commonly divided into auditory, visual, kinesthetic, and tactile (the last two are often combined), but it’s more likely that our strengths lie in some combination of these.

We each process information more easily in a certain way; no two people’s brain pathways are exactly the same. My 8-year-old Matan is an auditory learner; he hears something, and it sticks with him. Trust me, never mention the possibility of getting ice cream to him. On the other hand, I’m a tactile and visual learner. The best way for me to retain information is to actually write it down myself. By reading it and then rewriting in my own handwriting, my brain more reliably retains information. While most of my classmates were taking notes on their laptops, I was still there with a pen and paper scribbling away.

One of the aspects of Jewish living and practice that I find so compelling is that the rabbis themselves, and even the Torah, seemed to understand the need for these different modalities to make the tradition accessible to all. This is just one of the ways that Judaism has endured for all these years.

This week we read Parshiyot Nitzavim and Vayelech, the two Torah portions that often surround the High Holy days. Parshat Nitzavim reminds us that life gives us choices and that the proper path is to repent, to follow the rules, and to generally be good people. Parshat Vayelech teaches us about Moshe’s process to transfer leadership to Joshua and the final words he will share as the leader of the Israelite nation. The final words begin Moshe’s goodbye to the people Israel.

As God is giving the final instructions for Moshe to relay to the people, we are instructed that the Torah is to be read out loud so that those who did not stand at Sinai can still hear and learn its laws. It says this clearly in the V’ahavta: we’re instructed to read and discuss the commandments. We must listen to them, but also write them down. We are to wear them on our arms and heads and to act them out. We are the “People of the Book” for good reason, and the way our story lives on is by us telling it over and over again, and in every possible way.

NSYNC – Parshat Nitzavim-Vayelech 5783

There’s a rumor going around the 1990s boy band NSYNC might be reuniting for a new Trolls movie, and this has my teenage self fangirling big time. By my late teens, I was already well acquainted with boy bands, crushing on New Kids On The Block when I was younger, and then later NSYNC and Backstreet Boys. But I’m not writing about my love of pop music for this drash; I’m focusing on the name of the group. What does it mean to be “in sync”? For Justin Timberlake and company, it meant singing (albeit cheesy songs) together in harmony. Their voices and bodies were all perfectly choreographed and moved as a synchronized group. 

When we say “in sync” we’re not always talking about music or dance. To be in sync with others can mean a few different things. It can mean that you’re moving metaphorically in the same direction, for the same purpose. It can also mean that you’re on the same emotional wavelength. The thing these definitions have in common is how people interact with each other. So what does it mean, though, to be in sync with yourself?

This week we read Parshiyot Nitzavim and Vayelech, the two parshiyot that often surround the High Holy Days. Appropriately, Parshat Nitzavim reminds us that we always have a choice in life and that the proper path is to repent, follow the rules, and generally be good people. Parshat Vayelech teaches us about Moshe’s process to transfer leadership to Joshua and the final words he will share as the leader of the Israelite nation. These final words begin Moshe’s good-bye to the people Israel.

As God is giving instructions to the people about how to live and work together in the Land of Israel, we are reminded: “No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.” What a perfect way to illustrate the notion of being in sync with yourself. It’s when something is in your mouth and in your heart. When we can accurately convey our feelings, then our words and our thoughts match. 

What God is asking of the Israelite people is that their hearts guide them, and their words follow suit. To believe one thing but act differently is not what living in community is all about. To plant the roots of this new society with the idea that we should be in sync with ourselves means there’s a much better chance of being in sync with others. As we walk into this new year and bid the old year “Bye Bye Bye,” may we strive to align our beliefs with our actions, our thoughts with our words.

Lessons in Humility – Parshat Nitzavim 5782

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.