This week, we conclude the book of Leviticus with the double Parashat B’har-B’chukotai. It begins with a discussion of shmita, a practice of letting the land rest between harvests.

When I was asked to write a D’var Torah for Chol Ha-Moed Pesach, I, of course, accepted this honor. When I went to prepare, to my surprise, I  found that Chol Ha-Moed was not the name of a Torah portion.

We know in our own lives the importance of leadership, collaboration, and structure, and what occurs when these essentials fall apart. There is distrust, crisis, and failure to communicate from the top down. Dealing with multiple changes and insecurity is exceedingly difficult, especially in new circumstances with little stability or predictability for the future. Self-government is a new concept that creates uncertainty, insecurity, and vulnerability. Leadership is a challenge. Responsibility suffers. Yet, Parashat Ki Tisa is a story of evolution.

Parashat T’tzaveh is not terribly well-known and is filled with details about which most people have little interest. It is a portion that requires a lot of slow, careful reading, which ultimately leads to some fascinating and fulfilling insights. But one must read carefully to find those insights and see their connection to our lives as Reform Jews.

This parashah tells us that the gifts that the Israelites brought to Moses were freewill offerings. This kind of giving does not come from guilt, coercion, or competition but from the heart. It is important for us to continue to make freewill offerings to help sustain our Jewish community. We bring the realm of the holy into our lives when we bring our voluntary gifts of money, time, and monetary resources. When we give of ourselves, we strengthen ourselves as Jews and exemplify our Jewish commitment to make the world a better place for everyone. 

The word “mishpatim” means “laws” – a list of 53 laws, to be precise, mostly in the arena of civil law and damages. Coming immediately after the revelation at Sinai, Parashat Mishpatim digs into the details that move us from the high principles in the Ten Commandments to the nuts and bolts of an implementable system of governance with specific rights and obligations.

Our prophetess Miriam had the right idea! In fact, Song of the Sea is so essential to us that it is written in a special manner in the Torah in two columns, a reminder of the waters of the Reed Sea parting. And when we read or chant those words annually, it is tradition to stand and recall the miraculous traversing to safe shores...as if we were crossing ourselves. And we, you and I, surely know that Miriam gathered all the women with their drums and joyfully praised God, singing (thank you, Debbie Friedman, z’l), “We’ve just lived through a miracle…we’re going to dance tonight!” How many times has that music roused you?

While we may not be able to get verbal reassurance from God like Moses did, we carry with us an inspiring and reassuring history of strong, capable Jewish women—of which we are also a part. Success may not come easily or be guaranteed, but by taking on more responsibility, accepting positions of leadership, and carrying on despite the challenges ahead, we will grow into ourselves, expand the knowledge and skills we already have, and learn from any potential failure. This year, let’s remember that we are up to the task; and not only are we up to it, but we are also incredibly capable of tackling the unknown.

It is often said that we learn by example. We watch our elders – parents and grandparents, extended family members, teachers, public figures, and other exemplars in our lives–and try to emulate them. Sometimes though, when these exemplars engage in negative behavior, hopefully we will be astute enough to learn from them by negative example. We and those who come after us need not doom ourselves to repeating the mistakes and bad behavior of generations past. All of us have the power to improve–to do better. This is a core value and belief of Jewish life.