Dear TBZ Community,
אִם-בְּחֻקֹּתַי, תֵּלֵכוּ; וְאֶת-מִצְוֹתַי תִּשְׁמְרוּ, וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֹתָם
If you walk in My laws and faithfully keep My commandments and do them… (Leviticus 26:3)
This week we conclude the book of Vayikra (Leviticus) with a powerful double portion: Behar-Bechukotai. These parshiot hold teachings both radical and uncomfortable. Bechukotai, in particular, begins with a striking conditional: if you follow My laws and do them, then you will receive rain in its time, abundance, and security in your land. But what if we don’t? The verses that follow lay out harsh consequences: illness, defeat, desolation.
On the surface, this appears to be a transactional theology: if we follow God’s commandments, we will be rewarded; if we don’t, we will be punished. But that framework doesn’t hold up in the face of real life. We all know too well that the righteous suffer, and the wicked often prosper. So how are we to read this text with integrity?
This week I had the honor to participate in a full-day board meeting of T’ruah, where I am a board member. Our day began with Torah, and newly ordained Rabbi Hannah Ellenson (yes, sister of our almost-ordained Rabbi Rafi Ellenson) offered a teaching that pierced through this discomfort. She pointed us to the opening words of the portion: “Im bechukotai telechu” (“If you walk in My laws”). The emphasis is on walking, on telechu, the movement, the action.
It doesn’t say “if you learn My laws” or “if you believe in My laws.” It says walk: live them, embody them, act on them.
She reminded us of several teachings that strengthen this idea. In Vayikra Rabbah (35:7), we read a rather difficult teaching in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan:
אָמַר רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן הַלָּמֵד שֶׁלֹּא לַעֲשׂוֹת נוֹחַ לוֹ שֶׁנֶּהֶפְכָה שִׁלְיָתוֹ עַל פָּנָיו וְלֹא יָצָא לַאֲוִיר הָעוֹלָם
If one learns Torah with the intention of not doing, it would be preferable that his placenta had been placed on his face and he had not emerged into the air of the world.
A shocking image, but one that underscores the depth of the tradition’s insistence: Torah without action is not only empty, it is a betrayal of its very essence.
Similarly, the Talmud (Niddah 30b) teaches that each baby is taught the entire Torah in the womb and then forgets it at birth. Why? Perhaps because learning without the capacity to act is incomplete. Only when we emerge into the world with hands that can help, with feet that can walk in the path of justice, with hearts that can open to others… only then can Torah come alive again within us.
Another familiar teaching in the Talmud comes from Sotah 14a, where we are commanded to follow in God’s ways. The examples are not abstract: God clothes the naked, visits the sick, consoles the mourner, buries the dead. God acts with chesed (lovingkindness) and so must we. We then continue to Rabbi Samlai’s teaching that the Torah itself begins and ends with acts of kindness: God clothing Adam and Eve, and God burying Moses. Torah is bracketed by gemilut hasadim (acts of lovingkindness) because its essence is this: we are meant to act in the world, in ways that reflect God’s compassion and care.
This is very much the essence of my Torah and my rabbinate, and why I try to be active in the world and encourage our community to do, to act, to show up. We must study Torah and deepen our knowledge and understanding of our sacred texts, and deepen our relationship with God through our practices. But we do not only study Torah—we walk it. We advocate for the oppressed, we show up with and for the vulnerable.
And this is why I speak as I do from the bimah, even when the messages are uncomfortable. Because Torah is not meant to be a soothing lullaby that lets us rest easy. It is meant to wake us up, to move us, to call us to walk. I know that for some in our community, shul is hoped to be a place of refuge from the noise and pain of the world, and it must be. And yet, it must also be a place that calls us to conscience, to responsibility, and to act with courage and compassion in the face of injustice.
Torah without action is not Torah at all.
The meeting of T’ruah was in New York City, in a very special room of the Amalgamated Bank—the Martin Luther King Room, where all the walls are adorned with quotes and pictures of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. In front of me was a full wall with the quote: “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” An important reminder in times where hate has become a leading narrative in our world, threatening to erode our shared humanity.
This morning, we woke up to another act of senseless violence with the killing of staff members of the Israeli embassy Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim zichronam livracha (may their memories be a blessing), leaving an event at the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, DC.
This is what I have learned so far about them: Sarah was more than a scholar and bridge-builder; she was a quiet but fierce force for compassion and conviction. With advanced degrees in International Affairs and Sustainable Development, she devoted her life to healing a fractured world through peacebuilding, environmental work, and interfaith dialogue—not with slogans, but with steadfast dedication. Yaron was a man of humility, warmth, and deep integrity. Those who knew him speak of quiet conversations on Friday nights, of a soul grounded in faith and service. His life was marked by kindness and moral clarity. Yaron was planning to propose to Sarah in Jerusalem next week. My heart breaks.
We are reminded again that hate is never a solution. We must stand against all forms of violence and walk the path of Torah—the path of love, not hate. This act, based on what we now know, was committed in the name of liberation; the shooter reportedly shouted “Free Palestine” after the killings. But no act of violence will bring dignity to Palestinians. No act of violence will bring security to Israelis. No act of violence will bring peace.
So this Shabbat, as we hear the blessings and the curses, as we close the Book of Leviticus, may we each ask:
How am I walking?
What step am I taking to bring Torah into the world? To carry love and not hate in that journey, in my acting?
And how can I walk more boldly, more justly, in the footsteps of the Holy One?
May this Shabbat bring us peace, strength, and clarity.
May we find the courage to forgive, to heal, and to move forward.
May we know that we do not walk this journey alone, and that God’s presence dwells within each of us.
May God grant blessings and comfort to all of us and our loved ones.
May we discover strength, courage, and patience.
May our hearts remain open to generosity.
May those who are ill find healing.
May all remaining hostages return home soon.
May peace prevail, and may our leaders prioritize life.
May those working for peace be granted the strength and courage to continue their sacred work.
And may we soon witness peace and dignity for all.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rav Claudia