The Month of Elul and Rectifying Homosexuality

Return to the Image of G-d – Male & Female Relationship

The month of Elul is all about Teshuvah (repentance). It literally means return to our original purpose of creation. The Torah introduces the purpose of humanity at the very beginning of Genesis, where it describes how Hashem created the first human being(s) in His image: “G-d created the human being in His image, in the image of G-d He created him, male and female He created them” (Bereishit 1:27). The very next Torah verse directs us to be fruitful and multiply (Ibid. 28). Doing Teshuvah during the month of Elul means returning to become a true image of G-d. But what does it mean to be an image of G-d? The Shelah Hakodesh explains that Adam was created in the image of G-d, and only Israel is called Adam (Yechezkiel 34:31, Baba Metzia 114b). Therefore, ten fingers were imprinted within him, corresponding to the ten Sefirot… (Shelah Hakodesh, Parashat V’zot Haberacha, Ohr 3). Just as Hashem is manifested through his Sefirot, so is Israel – the true Adam – created in G-d’s image, a reflection of these Sefirot. The Sefirot on the right branch of the Tree of Life are male, whereas the Sefirot on the left branch are female. The Image of G-d, therefore, includes both male and female attributes, and its highest expression is reflected in the proper relationship between male and female. A further support for this principle is the very first Divine word to the newly created man and woman, “be fruitful and multiply.” In the second creation account, the Torah describes the creation of the first woman. Immediately after her creation, we are told, “Therefore, a man must leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife and they shall become one flesh” (Bereishit 2:24).

The Highest Expression of Free Choice: Overcoming the Desire for Homosexuality

Today, unfortunately, various human rights movements adhere to the belief that the highest expression of humanism is the right to exercise freedom of choice in every aspect of life, including the right to establish same sex marriages. I believe a law was recently passed in Israel to legalize such marriages. The importance of Free Choice cannot be emphasized enough in Judaism. Yet, there are very different approaches to defining what Free Choice entails. In the secular world, Free Choice is defined as the lack of restrictions. Allowing our impulses and desires to act, however, we feel like without restrictions, as long as we don’t hurt anyone else, is the secular definition of the highest expression of Free Choice. However, the delineation of “when it’s not hurting anyone else” is not clear-cut and may be open to interpretation. Is publicly exposing homosexual relationships not a harmful example for others, especially children? In the Torah, we are not only prohibited from hurting others, but we are furthermore forbidden to hurt ourselves. Therefore, suicide is considered a primary transgression in the Torah. I would venture to say that violating our Divine image by homosexual relationships can be compared to spiritual suicide. If we make a personal choice to purposely go against reflecting our Image of G-d in a fruitful male/female relationship, then what kind of spiritual meaning does our life serve? The Torah’s definition of Free Choice is diametrically opposed to that of the secular world. Rather than giving in to our desires and impulses, the Torah calls us to elevate ourselves to reflect our Divine Image by overcoming fruitless desires. Judaism credits the power of our Free Choice with the ability to make the right choices even when it goes against our natural inborn instincts. Thus, the definitions of Free Choice from the secular and Torah perspectives clash through their respective views on homosexuality. According to the secular view, homosexuality is an expression of exercising one’s Free Choice by following one’s own desires without giving in to religious and or social pressure. According to the Torah, Free Choice empowers every person with the ability to overcome even a natural, hormonal, inborn tendency and physical desire towards homosexuality by abstaining from committing such an act for the sake of spiritual growth and perfection.

Remaking Ourselves in Tune with the Purpose of Creation

The ‘sense’ associated with the Month of Elul is עֲשִֹיָּה/asiyah – ‘action’ or ‘making.’ The Torah teaches us, וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם מִצְוֹתַי וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֹתָם – “Keep the mitzvot and do them” (Vayikra 22:31). B’nei Yissaschar asks, why do we need to be told to both keep and do the mitzvot? He further wonders why it doesn’t simply state, “Keep and do the mitzvot,” but  rather, “Keep the mitzvot and do them.” He explains that the answer lies in the Hebrew word for ‘do them’ which can also mean ‘make them’ or – with a slight change of vowels – ‘make themselves.’  The Midrash teaches that when we keep the mitzvot, it is considered as if we made ourselves (Midrash Vayikra Rabbah 35:7). Similarly, when we do Teshuvah, Hashem considers it as if we became a new creation (Midrash Vayikra Rabbah 30:3). Since the Month of Elul is the month of Teshuvah, and becoming a ba’al teshuvah (master of return) is considered as a new creation, as if we had remade ourselves. Therefore, the ‘sense’ of action/making is especially fitting for this month (B’nei Yissaschar Article for the Month of Elul 1:6) So the power of Teshuvah to change ourselves knows no bounds. As part of the ultimate Free Choice, we have the ability to make ourselves anew, to become a completely altered and new person in tune with our purpose of creation. In light of this principle, we can now understand that the only appropriate answer to the question, ‘What is Judaism’s view of the Jewish homosexual?’ is, ‘There is no such individual’ (Homosexuality and Judaism, Rabbi Barry Freundel, quoting M.H. Spero, ‘Homosexuality: Clinical and Ethical Challenges,’ in Judaism and Psychology: Halachic Perspectives, Yeshiva University, 1980). Within Talmudic and Halachic responsa, there is no term to define a homosexual Jew. The modern transliteration of homosexual into Hebrew only proves the point that no term exists. The homosexual is never listed among the recognized categories of Jewish society – Kohen, Levi, woman, slave, king, deaf, mute, and so on. The only category that includes the Jewish homosexual is מומר לתיאבון/mumar l’teiavon (one whose desires put him in opposition to Torah law). Thus, according to the Torah, ‘homosexual’ is a term that is limited to the description of an activity, as opposed to a term that describes a minority group. Therefore, we must not ostracize a person who practices homosexuality any more than we would shun any other Jew who breaks Shabbat or eats non-kosher. “Don’t judge your friend until you arrive at his place” (Pirkey Avot 2:4). We do not have any inkling of the difficult tests this person is up against, and which genetic, social, and traumatic experiences caused his or her sexual orientation. Therefore, we must show compassion and encourage such an individual to harness the power of Free Choice to redirect his or her desires, thereby remaking themselves anew.

Virgo and the Question of Female Homosexuality

The astrological sign of the month of Elul, Virgo, is connected with the purity of repentance – remaking ourselves into a new creation. The Jewish congregation is likened to a virgin, untouched and pure. We are continually endeared to Hashem as if for the very first time. The sexual purity with which the constellation of Virgo is associated alludes to the importance of focusing on sexual purity during our Teshuvah throughout the month of Elul. It has been brought to my attention that many Jewish women, even those who belong to the Torah camp, practice homosexuality occasionally. Female homosexuality is often thought not to be explicitly forbidden by the Torah. Perhaps this mistaken conclusion arises because there is no specific prohibition for female homosexuality the way the Torah explicitly forbids male homosexuality, “You shall not lie with a man, the way of lying with a woman; it is an abomination” (Vayikra 18:22).  In addition, female homosexuality does not entail emission and wasting of seed which has the ability to create new life. Thirdly, it does not entail any actual consummation of the sexual act of becoming “one flesh” as does male homosexuality. Nevertheless, Rambam rules unequivocally that lesbianism is forbidden by the Torah (D’oraita): “Lesbian relations are forbidden. This is מִדַּרְכֵי מִצְרַיִם/midarchei Mitzrayim –‘the conduct of Egypt’ which we were warned against, as [Vayikra 18:3] states: “Do not follow the conduct of Egypt.” Our Sages said, What would they do? A man would marry a man, a woman would marry a woman, and a woman would marry two men. Although this conduct is forbidden, [by Scriptural Law, the verse is not merely cited as support for a Rabbinic injunction], lashes are not given for it, for it is not a specific prohibition, since it doesn’t involve intercourse. Therefore, such women are not forbidden to marry a Kohen as zonot (prostitutes), nor does a woman become prohibited to her husband because of this, for this is not considered harlotry. It is, however, appropriate to give them lashes for rebellious conduct because they performed a transgression. A man should take precautions with his wife concerning this matter and should prevent women who are known to engage in such practices from visiting her and her from visiting them” (Rambam, Mishnah Torah, the Laws of Forbidden Sexuality, Chapter 21, Halacha 8). The Shulchan Aruch (Even HaEzer 20:2) reiterates Rambam’s ruling almost word for word.

Returning to the Purpose of Our Creation

To conclude, we are placed in this world to exercise our Free Choice – to live as spiritual beings fulfilling the will of our Creator, rather than distorting the Torah to justify an inability to control physical desires. Hashem never gives a mitzvah that is beyond the ability of an individual to fulfill. Whatever one’s sexual orientation, no one is trapped in a living prison without exit or key. Contrary to the bombardment of the media promulgating gays’ rights,  a recent study reported a success rate of more than 70% for redirecting homosexual orientation (Schwartz, M.F. and Masters, W.H., “Masters and Johnson Treatment Program for Dissatisfied Homosexual Men.” American Journal of Psychiatry 141:2, February 1984, pp. 173-181. The study reported a success rate of 79% after one year and 71% after five years. This demonstrates that when we truly desire to live by the Torah, nothing is impossible. May we seize the opportunity of Elul to choose eternal life – to do Teshuvah, correct our ways, renew ourselves, and return to the purpose of our creation!

Parashat Ki Tavo: How Does “A Land Flowing with Milk and Honey” Express the Uniqueness of Eretz Yisrael?

 

Parashat Ki Tavo

How Does “A Land Flowing with Milk and Honey” Express the Uniqueness of Eretz Yisrael?

Can We Compare the Land Flowing with Milk and Honey to a Breastfeeding Mom?
Long before I understood that Hashem gave Israel the Torah, I already knew that the Land of Israel was described as “a land flowing with milk and honey.” We sang these words with lively clapping in my Zionist secular Jewish school and on B’nei Akiva summer camps. At the time, I never reflected on the deeper meaning of the words, but I sensed instinctively that they expressed the land’s uniqueness – “flowing with milk and honey, clap, clap, with milk and honey!”

The very word “flowing” stirred in me an image of perpetual overflowing with abundance, like a spring or waterfall whose waters never cease. Mother’s milk carries a similar association. The more the baby nurses, the more milk streams forth through this ever-renewing source of nourishment and love. In this light, the metaphor of Israel as a land flowing with milk and honey evokes the image of a mother whose goodness and abundance pour down to her children in proportion to their longing and desire.

Rabbi Meir Horowitz of Dzikov, Imrei Noam, adds a mystical layer, teaching that “זָבַת חָלָב הוּא” is an acronym for חָזֶה – a vision of Divine revelation – while “דְּבַשׁ” has the numerical value of אִשָּׁה/woman, hinting at the flow of nourishment from the Nukva d’kedusha, the feminine aspect of holiness. Thus, the Torah’s description of milk and honey reflects both the physical image of a nursing mother and the spiritual reality of Eretz Yisrael as a feminine source of sustenance, continuously flowing with Divine goodness for those who desire her (Imrei Noam, Parashat Tetzaveh).

Growing up in Denmark, I caught the fragrance of this sweetness during our annual visits to my grandmother’s garden, where the scent of sweet pea flowers mingled with the tang of citrus fruit blossoms. I could never have imagined that one day I would tend my own garden in Eretz Yisrael. This dream became reality only through the love my grandparents instilled in me for our holy land. Today, I feel profound gratitude for the small plot we have been granted here, more than I could ever have imagined in childhood. I pray for the time and strength to devote myself more fully to cultivating it as it deserves. Having endured exile and the inability to dwell safely in our promised land, we have developed a powerful yearning for Eretz Yisrael’s goodness. This longing itself becomes the vessel that allows us to receive her abundance and keep its flow alive.

How can “Flowing with Milk and Honey” Refer to the Fruits of the Land of Israel? Parashat Ki Tavo describes the mitzvah of bringing bikkurim – the first fruits – to the Temple in Jerusalem. How I yearn for this opportunity one day, may it be soon! At the heart of the farmer’s declaration of gratitude, he proclaims that Hashem has brought us to “this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.”

ספר דברים פרק כו פסוק ט וַיְבִאֵנוּ אֶל הַמָּקוֹם הַזֶּה וַיִּתֶּן לָנוּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ הַזֹּאת אֶרֶץ זָבַת חָלָב וּדְבָשׁ:

“…And He brought us to this place, and He gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey” (Devarim 26:9).

Whereas I always assumed honey flowed from the jar and milk from the carton in our fridge, or at the very least I associated honey with bees and milk with cows, the Talmud explains it differently: “Rami bar Yechezkel once happened to come to Bnei Brak. He saw goats grazing under fig trees while honey was dripping from the figs and milk was flowing from the goats, and they were mingling together. He remarked, ‘This is [the meaning of] a land flowing with milk and honey’” (Babylonian Talmud, Ketubot 111b). This paints a vivid picture of goats grazing in the fertile pastures of Israel while sweet honey is naturally dripping from figs and dates, merging into one image of effortless abundance.

These are not random examples of produce but symbols of the very best of the land, chosen to convey that its bounty emerges with ease and richness, as Sforno explains: “A land flowing with milk and honey” refers to being abundant in livestock and abundant in food, both pleasant and beneficial (Sforno, Shemot 3:8), as it states, “Eat honey, my son, for it is good, and the drippings of the honeycomb are sweet” (Mishlei 24:13). Whereas in most countries, milk and honey are seasonal, appearing only at certain times of the year, in Israel, the Torah describes them as constantly “flowing.” This hints that the land’s fruitfulness is not bound by natural cycles but is continuously sustained by Hashem’s blessing. Thus, the words “milk and honey” remind us of Israel’s agricultural abundance that surpasses the natural order, bearing witness to the hand of Divine providence woven into its soil.

Rebbe Natan of Breslev deepens this concept by explaining that Moshe Rabbeinu’s longing to enter the Land was not for physical taste but for the mitzvot dependent on the Land, since the sweetness of its fruits is rooted in the supernal sweetness. Thus, the true praise of Eretz Yisrael lies precisely in its fruits: good and pleasant in themselves, yet ultimately serving as vessels for mitzvah, transforming their sweetness into a revelation of Divine pleasantness (Likutei Halachot, Orach Chayim, Birkat Haperot, Halacha 4).  

What is the Connection Between the Abundance of Eretz Yisrael and the Torah?

The imagery of milk and honey expresses a profound truth about the nature of Eretz Yisrael. On the simplest level, milk is the most essential food, sustaining an infant from the very beginning of life, while honey embodies sweetness and delight beyond what is necessary for survival (Yalkut Shimoni, Mishlei Chapter 8:943). Together they symbolize the twofold blessing of the Land: it provides not only the nourishment needed for physical existence but also the sweetness that enriches the spirit, enabling us to live with joy in the service of Hashem. This is why the Torah itself likens its words to milk and honey, as it is written: דְּבַשׁ וְחָלָב תַּחַת לְשׁוֹנֵךְ – “Honey and milk are under your tongue” (Shir HaShirim 4:11). Just as the words of one’s lips are sweet and pleasant, like honey and milk dripping beneath the tongue, so too are the words of Torah, for the verse is a metaphor for the study of Torah’s wisdom (Metzudat David, Shir HaShirim 4:11). Whereas the Land of Israel overflows with milk and honey to sustain the body, Torah flows with milk and honey to sustain the soul. Significantly, the phrase “אֶרֶץ זָבַת חָלָב וּדְבַשׁ” appears twenty-two times in the Tanach – corresponding to the twenty-two letters of the Torah. This allusion underscores that the abundance of Eretz Yisrael and the flow of Torah are inseparably bound together – both are channels through which Hashem’s goodness is revealed in the world.

How is Milk and Honey a Metaphor for the Transformative Power of Israel?

Milk also signifies birth and renewal, for blood is wondrously transformed into nurturing milk that flows from a mother to her child. Honey, in turn, represents the sweetness of noam elyon – the supernal pleasantness that is the root of all true taste and delight. The Seven Species of the Land of Israel, praised by the Torah, all share in this quality of noam, and therefore the Land itself is fittingly described as flowing with milk and honey.

Yet both milk and honey carry a paradox. Honey is produced by non-kosher bees, and milk derives from blood, which is also not kosher. Yet the Torah permits both, teaching us the secret alluded to in the verse: “Who can produce a pure thing out of an impure? No one” (Iyov 14:4) – no one but Hashem Himself. Only the Creator has the power to draw purity out of impurity, to transform the forbidden into the permitted. This transformative power – the power of teshuva and tikkun – shines most strongly in the Land of Israel. Thus, to call Israel “a land flowing with milk and honey” is to reveal its essence as a land where sustenance and sweetness unite, where transformation and renewal are woven into its very fruits, and where abundance itself becomes a vessel for holiness. For this reason, this land is explicitly praised with milk and honey, alluding to the purifying power that resides within the Holy Land.

How do Milk and Honey Teach that Israel is the Gateway to Higher Worlds?

On the mystical plane, “A land flowing with milk and honey” is an allusion to the goodness of the supernal world. Whereas milk can represent the life-giving flow of Divine compassion, honey reflects the sweetness of spiritual wisdom and the joy of cleaving to Hashem. To dwell in a land flowing with milk and honey is to live in contact with eternity itself. Yet, meriting this abundance demands great inner strength and perseverance – the courage to endure trials and the discipline to engage in the exacting work of Torah, distinguishing between issur (prohibited) and heter (permitted), tahor (pure) and tamei (impure). The phrase, therefore, becomes both a promise and a challenge: the land holds within it the flow of eternity, but it demands from us the strength to grasp it.

Rabbi Meir Horowitz of Dzikov deepens this mystical vision, teaching that the phraseזָבַת חָלָב וּדְבַשׁ/zavat cḥalav u’dvash equals 761 in gematria – the same as בִּינָה חָכְמָה כֶּתֶר/keter, chochmah, binah (760) when counted with the kollel (adding one for the entire phrase). Keter (crown) represents the highest Divine will, chochmah (wisdom) the primordial flash of insight, and binah (understanding) the unfolding of that wisdom into structure. Together, they are the three highest sefirot (Divine emanations). This reveals that the Torah’s description encodes the flow of light from these highest realms into malchut (sovereignty), symbolized by the word אֶרֶץ (land). Not only do milk and honey allude to the sweetness of the upper world, but these words are also a cipher for Divine radiance itself – a threefold light descending into the land and manifesting as abundance. In this way, “A land flowing with milk and honey” expresses not only the tangible fruitfulness of Israel but also its role as the vessel through which the highest light is drawn into our world (Imrei Noam, Parashat Ki Tavo). For us today, “A land flowing with milk and honey” is both a gift and a responsibility. It invites us to live in gratitude for the land’s blessings, to embody generosity and unity in our communities, to draw sweetness from Torah, and to strive with courage toward holiness. To dwell in such a land is to elevate every dimension of life – physical, ethical, spiritual, and eternal.

Parashat Ki Tetze: Which is the Most Moral Army in the World?

 

Parashat Ki Tetze
Which is the Most Moral Army in the World?

Genocide or Morality – How Does the World Dare Judge the IDF?

Time flies, and since I never had a bat mitzvah, my birthday parasha is once again approaching. Although Parashat Ki Tetze is only of average length, it contains no fewer than seventy-four mitzvot that touch nearly every aspect of life. The range is striking: from returning a lost object to sending away the mother bird, to building a fence around one’s roof, to paying a worker on time, and even to the eradication of Amalek. This industrious parasha, overflowing with mitzvot, resonates with my own life, which likewise spans many activities – teaching, writing, creating graphic art, gardening, overseeing staff, practicing spiritual healing, playing music, and so much more.

One mitzvah in particular speaks deeply to me: the command that soldiers in war camps, alongside their weapons, must also carry a spade to cover their excrement. Growing up in a home where cleanliness, personal hygiene, and respect for human dignity were emphasized, I can appreciate this mitzvah. If even soldiers on the battlefield – in conditions where, in most cultures, “anything goes” – are required to maintain dignity and cleanliness, then surely we, in our daily lives, are obligated to show the same care, even down to using a toilet brush when necessary.

Beyond the physical, this mitzvah reflects the high moral standards the Torah expects of Israeli soldiers. If the Torah commands them to maintain discipline even in the most private of matters during war, how much more so must they be scrupulous in the ethical treatment of enemy forces. Indeed, the IDF has internalized many of these Torah principles of warfare and is rightly regarded as the most moral army in the world.

This stands in sharp contrast to the barbaric attacks of October 7, when Hamas brutally assaulted innocent Israeli civilians, and to their ongoing atrocities in holding Jewish hostages in cruel captivity. Yet, instead of condemning such savagery, most of the world turns its accusations against Israel. Amnesty International denounces Israel with claims of inhumane siege, the BBC echoes allegations of war crimes, and even Wikipedia repeats slanderous fabrications accusing Israeli soldiers of sexual and gender-based violence, including gang-rape, sexualized torture, and genital mutilation. Such accusations could not be further from the truth. If the international community truly cared about protecting civilians, it would unite in demanding an end to Hamas’s use of human shields and call with one voice for the immediate release of the hostages.

Why does Parashat Ki Tetze Interweave Ritual and Daily Laws?

Parashat Ki Tetze is remarkable for its sheer breadth. At first glance, the laws seem scattered and without a common thread. But when viewed through the lens of Eretz Yisrael, a deeper coherence shines through – the Torah is deliberately weaving together the sanctity of the Land with the holiness of daily living. As Israel stood poised to cross the Yarden and enter Canaan, Moshe had to ready them not only for the practical challenges of settlement that confront any new nation, but also for the spiritual and moral trials of facing a surrounding culture steeped in corruption and seduction.

The Torah, therefore, does not divide its commandments neatly into categories of ‘ritual’ on one side and ‘civic duty’ on the other. Rather, it interlaces them freely, reminding us that the human personality is whole only when both dimensions are nurtured. A Jew cannot claim closeness to God while trampling on the dignity of other people – nor can one uphold impeccable ethics in human relationships while ignoring the service of the Divine. Our service to Hashem and our service to others are not parallel tracks but are deeply intertwined, forming one seamless expression of holiness.

It is precisely in Eretz Yisrael that this integration is most urgent. For here, every detail of life – from the way we build our homes, to how we treat our workers, to how we conduct ourselves in the most private spheres – becomes an expression of the covenant with Hashem. The Torah prepares us for this reality by blending laws of heaven and earth, worship and work, compassion and sanctity, into a unified vision of life in the Land (Inspired by Rav Michael Hattin, Ki Tetze, The Sanctity of Israel's Military Camp).

Why is it so Vital that Israel’s Military Camp be Holy?

ספר דברים פרק כג פסוק י כִּי תֵצֵא מַחֲנֶה עַל אֹיְבֶיךָ וְנִשְׁמַרְתָּ מִכֹּל דָּבָר רָע: (יא) כִּי יִהְיֶה בְךָ אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר לֹא יִהְיֶה טָהוֹר מִקְּרֵה לָיְלָה וְיָצָא אֶל מִחוּץ לַמַּחֲנֶה לֹא יָבֹא אֶל תּוֹךְ הַמַּחֲנֶה: (יב) וְהָיָה לִפְנוֹת עֶרֶב יִרְחַץ בַּמָּיִם וּכְבֹא הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ יָבֹא אֶל תּוֹךְ הַמַּחֲנֶה: (יג) וְיָד תִּהְיֶה לְךָ מִחוּץ לַמַּחֲנֶה וְיָצָאתָ שָׁמָּה חוּץ: (יד) וְיָתֵד תִּהְיֶה לְךָ עַל אֲזֵנֶךָ וְהָיָה בְּשִׁבְתְּךָ חוּץ וְחָפַרְתָּה בָהּ וְשַׁבְתָּ וְכִסִּיתָ אֶת צֵאָתֶךָ: (טו) כִּי הַשֵׁם אֱלֹהֶיךָ מִתְהַלֵּךְ בְּקֶרֶב מַחֲנֶךָ לְהַצִּילְךָ וְלָתֵת אֹיְבֶיךָ לְפָנֶיךָ וְהָיָה מַחֲנֶיךָ קָדושׁ וְלֹא יִרְאֶה בְךָ עֶרְוַת דָּבָר וְשָׁב מֵאַחֲרֶיךָ:

“When a camp goes out against your enemies, you shall beware of everything evil. If there is among you a man who is unclean because of a nocturnal emission, he shall go outside the camp. He shall not come within the camp. And it shall be, towards evening, he shall bathe in water, and when the sun sets, he may come within the camp. And you shall have a designated place outside the camp, so that you can go out there [to use it as a privy]. And you shall keep a stake in addition to your weapons; and it shall be, when you sit down outside [to relieve yourself], you shall dig with it, and you shall return and cover your excrement. For Hashem, your G-d, goes along in the midst of your camp, to rescue you and to deliver your enemies before you. [Therefore,] your camp shall be holy, so that He should not see anything unseemly among you and would turn away from you” (Devarim 23:10-15).

This unusual passage deals not with combat strategy but with the most ordinary of human functions. At first glance, it seems surprising that the Torah interrupts its discussion of war to speak about how the proud and confident warriors must address the matter of evacuating their bowels! Yet precisely here, the Torah teaches us something profound about the character of Israel’s army.

The Ramban explains that “Guard yourself from every evil thing” is not a general warning but one directed specifically at the military camp. War is a setting where cruelty and rage easily take over – and even otherwise decent individuals can slip into theft, violence, sexual immorality, and shameless behavior. The Torah, therefore, cautions Israel’s soldiers to remain vigilant, lest the chaos of battle corrupt their moral core.

Because Hashem’s Presence dwells in Israel’s camp, sins committed there are especially grievous – like defiling Hashem’s own house. Worse still, transgression in the camp forfeits Divine protection and leaves the nation vulnerable to its enemies. The Ramban adds that we learn from the word דָּבָר/davar in verse 15 that even lashon hara must be avoided, for divisive speech can shatter unity and wreak more devastation than the enemy itself.

What armies of the world have always tolerated – cruelty, vulgarity, unchecked passion – is not permitted to the soldiers of Israel. The Torah insists that even in the heat of war, discipline, modesty, and sanctity must prevail. Verse 15 is perhaps one of the most ennobling passages in all of world literature. The Torah demands that the camp of Israel be different from every other army: holy, pure, and worthy of G-d’s Presence walking in its midst.

Why does Victory in Israel’s Wars Depend on Moral Integrity?

The reason for the mitzvah of extra refinement in matters of עֶרְוָה/ervah – which includes both sexual immorality and unseemly bodily exposure – is that Hashem walks in the midst of Israel’s camp, to save us and to deliver our enemies before us (Devarim 23:15). What applies to the camp of soldiers applies equally to the entire people of Israel: just as Hashem’s Presence rests upon the Mishkan only when Israel conducts themselves with holiness, so too His Presence that grants victory in battle depends on the moral integrity of the warriors – even in matters of bodily exposure. The Sifrei teaches that ervah – whether sexual transgression or indecent exposure – drives away the Shechinah (Sifrei, Ki Tetze 48). Specifically in the Land of Israel, this heightened morality is vital, for here Hashem Himself fights our wars and walks in the midst of our camp. This standard continues to guide the IDF – the most moral army in the world. While the Torah ideal is not always fully achieved, the striving itself reflects the Torah’s vision. Remarkably, many Israeli soldiers today are becoming ba’alei teshuva as they sense Hashem’s Presence with them on the battlefield – a living reminder that Israel’s victories depend not only on military strength, but on moral integrity.

Parashat Shoftim: How does the Holy Land Preserve Its Holiness Through Justice?

 

Parashat Shoftim
How does the Holy Land Preserve Its Holiness Through Justice?

What is the Connection Between the Performance of Kindness and Justice in Judaism?

At my mother’s recent 90th birthday celebration, I praised her for embodying the three essential qualities that the prophet Michah identifies as the foundation of Jewish life: “To do justice, to love chesed (loving-kindness), and to walk humbly with your G-d” (Michah 6:8). I also showed how each of these traits has been carried forward through her three daughters, assigning the quality of justice to myself.

From a young age, I was drawn to justice and truth – striving to live in alignment with the Divine Will. This quest led me to embrace the Torah lifestyle and, from then on, continue to seek justice guided by Torah values and a deep commitment to integrity.

As a teenager, I was passionately engaged in causes of human rights, equality, and defending the underdog. Yet, despite my involvement, every manmade system left me dissatisfied. I longed for a framework that combined truth, justice, and kindness while allowing each person to cultivate and share her unique gifts.

My longing found its fulfillment when I encountered the Diaspora Yeshiva community on Mount Tzion. There, I discovered why all the human attempts at social structures had ultimately disappointed me. Without Torah at the center, systems – even noble ones – inevitably falter. The kibbutz model, for example, while idealistic, undermined the family unit. In contrast, the Yeshiva community placed Torah at the heart of life and maintained strong rabbinic authority, which fostered a unity and sense of belonging I had never experienced before.

What spoke to me most deeply was the balance of justice and kindness. Through tzedakah – giving a tenth of one’s income to those in need or for communal projects – I saw how Judaism fuses the two, teaching that justice alone is incomplete without kindness.

This concept is embedded in the word צֶדֶק/tzedek, which unites law and judgment דִּין/din with חֶסֶד/chesed. I also experienced firsthand the outpouring of kindness in daily life – women preparing meals for new mothers, visiting and caring for the sick, and families extending hospitality to singles, of which I was a grateful recipient. Through these acts, I realized that Torah’s vision of justice is not an abstract principle but a way of life, expressed within a community rooted in compassion and care.

What is the Connection Between Pursuing Justice and Possessing the Promised Land?

ספר דברים פרק טז פסוק כ צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדֹּף לְמַעַן תִּחְיֶה וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר הַשֵׁם אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ:

“Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may live and possess the land Hashem, your G-d, is giving you” (Devarim 16:20).

This pasuk teaches that the pursuit of justice is not only a moral command but a condition for Israel’s survival and possession of the Land. Rashi emphasizes that the appointment of upright judges is itself a merit strong enough to keep Israel alive and settled in its Land. Ibn Ezra underscores that this obligation is especially critical in Eretz Yisrael, for any lack of justice there can prevent the people from inheriting it. The Land, he explains, will not tolerate corruption.

The Netziv deepens this idea, teaching that Eretz Yisrael is uniquely suited to host justice. Its very essence is aligned with righteousness, and therefore only a nation that actively pursues tzedek can remain rooted in it (Emek Davar, Devarim 16:20). This echoes the Torah’s repeated warnings that the Land “vomits out” its inhabitants when defiled by injustice or immorality (see for example Vayikra 18:28). Rabbeinu Bachaya adds that “justice, justice” calls upon every Jew to be upright not only in deeds but also in words, for dishonesty in speech reflects dishonesty in action. He also interprets the doubling as an instruction to pursue justice, whether it brings material gain or loss. This insistence on uncompromising integrity ensures that the community reflects the sanctity of the Land they inhabit.

Finally, the Ramban reveals a deeper mystical layer: the double expression “צֶדֶק צֶדֶק” refers to two dimensions of justice. The first is earthly justice, which enables us to inherit the Land of Israel; the second is the supernal Justice, the hidden light of the World to Come, reserved for the righteous. In other words, true pursuit of justice not only secures Israel’s physical inheritance of the Land but also its eternal inheritance in the next world (Ramban, Devarim 16:20).

Together, these teachings illuminate why tzedek is inseparable from Eretz Yisrael. The Promised Land is not ordinary soil; it is a spiritual inheritance bound to righteousness. Just as Hashem is called Tzedek, so too must His people emulate Him by embedding justice into their courts, their leadership, their speech, and their daily lives. Only then do we merit both “that you may live” in this world and “inherit the Land” – in this world and the next.

What is the Connection Between Appointing Judges at the Gates and Destroying Idolatry?

ספר דברים פרק טז פסוק יח
 שֹׁפְטִים וְשֹׁטְרִים תִּתֶּן לְךָ בְּכָל שְׁעָרֶיךָ אֲשֶׁר הַשֵׁם אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לְךָ לִשְׁבָטֶיךָ וְשָׁפְטוּ אֶת הָעָם מִשְׁפַּט צֶדֶק:

“You shall set up judges and law enforcement officials for yourself in all your gates that Hashem your G-d, is giving you, for your tribes, and they shall judge the people with righteous judgment” (Devarim 16:18).

Parashat Shoftim opens by placing justice at the literal entry points of our communities – the gates. In Eretz Yisrael, where the Divine Presence hovers more palpably, the Torah situates judgment not in some distant hall but at the threshold between public and private life. The Torah verse emphasizes that this must take place “in the gates that Hashem is giving you.” The Torah’s wording in the present tense – “…Hashem is giving you” – teaches that the gift of the Land itself is conditioned on establishing courts and systems of justice within her. Justice is meant to greet us as we come and go, reminding us that every transaction and decision participates in the sanctity of the Land. When the judges at the gates reflect integrity, the gates of Heaven open correspondingly; the earthly portals mirror the supernal ones. Justice in Israel is not only a civic necessity – it is a channel through which the Land breathes holiness into the people.

Yet the Torah immediately commands the opposite obligation as well: “Do not plant for yourself an Asherah… near the altar of Hashem your G-d” (Devarim 16:21). Just as appointing judges cultivates righteousness, uprooting idolatry and corruption preserves the boundaries of holiness, preventing foreign worship from encroaching on the sacred.

The Torah insists on a clear, sanctified space around the altar. In the Land, spiritual geography matters – what we place near the center shapes what flows from the center. By guarding the precincts of holiness, we keep our inner altar clear of mixture and confusion. The mitzvah to build courts of justice and the mitzvah to destroy injustice are two sides of the same covenantal calling – to ensure that the earthly gates mirror the gates of Heaven, and that the center of our lives remains undiluted, devoted solely to Hashem.

What is the Torah’s Vision of Establishing a Holy Nation in a Holy Land

Parashat Shoftim frames the entry into Eretz Yisrael as the establishment of a society rooted in justice and holiness. The Torah calls us to be tamim – wholehearted with Hashem – rejecting the lure of omens and predictions in order to cultivate a life of simple trust, where rain in its time and fruit in its season become lessons in emunah. At the same time, the command to designate cities of refuge maps compassionate righteousness onto the very landscape, teaching that even one who erred must be given a path back to life. These mitzvot, together with others in Parashat Shoftim, reveal that the Land itself is activated and safeguarded through righteous conduct; it can only be held by a people who mirror its sanctity. The Torah warns that when justice and compassion are abandoned, the Land will “vomit out” its inhabitants, but when pursued, these very qualities anchor Israel securely upon it.

In our own days, when the security of Israel is tested and questions of justice weigh heavily, the Torah’s call in Parashat Shoftim reminds us that the Land itself is preserved through righteousness. Only by living with wholehearted devotion, compassion, and integrity can Israel ensure that the holy soil of Eretz Yisrael truly sustains a holy nation, leading to the ultimate victory over our enemies.

Parashat Re’eh: What do the Miracles at the Splitting of the Jordan River Teach Us About Free Choice?

 

Parashat Re’eh
What do the Miracles at the Splitting of the Jordan River Teach Us About Free Choice

How Does the Path Away from the Torah Resemble a Merry-Go-Around?

One of the Torah’s most fundamental beliefs is that of free choice. Hashem endowed all humans with the ability to choose between good and evil. Being created in “the image of G-d” grants us this Divine gift of free choice. Childhood wounds and traumas do not confine us – we have the choice to rise above the baggage of our past and choose kindness and positivity rather than wallow in bitterness and self-pity. The best choice I ever made was choosing the Torah path. After exploring and searching for meaning, it became clear to me that the secular path of my upbringing resembled my hamster’s merry-go-around. It kept moving but never got anywhere other than in circles. Similarly, if I continued walking in my parents’ footsteps, I would get a good education, find a good job, marry an educated, affluent man, ensure our children received a good education, marry well, and have children who in turn would receive a good education – and so the merry-go-around would continue ad infinitum. This lifestyle didn’t seem to lead anywhere. I asked myself, “What would be accomplished at the end of the day?” In contrast, choosing the Torah path leads to eternity. Rather than working for ephemeral success in this world, we strive to serve Hashem and fulfill His will, which leads to accomplishment both in this world and in the world to come. Yet there is never any guarantee – while we have 100% control over our choices, we have 0% control over the outcome. I wish I could speak from my heart to all the teenage daughters who choose the secular path and ask, “So where is the path away from the Torah leading you? Why exchange the truth and tranquility for confusion, depression, drug abuse, eating disorders, and cutting (self-mutilation)?” Yes, I know you have been hurt, and I want to embrace you deeply and kiss your wounds into healing. You are young, your life is still before you, and you can start afresh by choosing the blessed life of Torah.

What is the Eternal Significance of Our Choices?

Parashat Re’eh opens with encouraging us to see and distinguish between the blessing and curse that Hashem has set before us as we enter the Land of Israel:

ספר דברים פרק יא  פסוק כו רְאֵה אָנֹכִי נֹתֵן לִפְנֵיכֶם הַיּוֹם בְּרָכָה וּקְלָלָה:

“See, I set before you today blessing and curse” (Devarim 11:26).

This verse is reflected later in Parashat Nitzavim: “It will be, when all these things come upon you – the blessing and the curse that I have set before you” …I have placed life and death before you, blessing and curse – and you shall choose life, so that you and your offspring will live” (Devarim 30:1 and 30:19).

The Ohr HaChaim explains that this verse describes two sets of realities. The first – “life and death” – refers to the here-and-now: the tangible consequences of our choices in this world. If we choose well, we will live; if we choose wrongly, we risk death. The second – “blessing and curse” – refers to the eternal destiny that awaits us after we leave this world. This is why the verse separates the two – the first applies to our present life; the second unfolds only after death.

This perspective lifts us out of the dizzying circles of the merry-go-round. Life is not an endless loop of empty achievements – every choice is charged with eternal significance. Choosing Torah is not merely about securing a better lifestyle here – it is about planting seeds of blessing that will bear fruit in both worlds. Even in moments when the reward is hidden, and the “life” promised feels far away, the Torah assures us that every act of choosing good is shaping both our present reality and our eternal future.

Does the Land of Israel Activate Our Choice Affecting the Spiritual World?

The Torah does not leave “choose life” in the realm of abstraction – it situates that choice at the Jordan’s crossing and inscribes it into the twin mountains that face Gilgal. As we enter the Land, the choice that shapes Olam Haba is stamped into geography itself – blessing upon Har Gerizim and curse upon Har Eival:

ספר דברים פרק יא  פסוק כט וְהָיָה כִּי יְבִיאֲךָ יְ־הוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַתָּה בָא שָׁמָּה לְרִשְׁתָּהּ וְנָתַתָּה אֶת הַבְּרָכָה עַל הַר גְּרִזִּים וְאֶת הַקְּלָלָה עַל הַר עֵיבָל:(ל) הֲלֹא הֵמָּה בְּעֵבֶר הַיַּרְדֵּן אַחֲרֵי דֶּרֶךְ מְבוֹא הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ בְּאֶרֶץ הַכְּנַעֲנִי הַיּוֹשֵׁב בָּעֲרָבָה מוּל הַגִּלְגָּל אֵצֶל אֵלוֹנֵי מוֹרֶה:(לא) כִּי אַתֶּם עֹבְרִים אֶת הַיַּרְדֵּן לָבוֹא לָרֶשֶׁת אֶת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר הַשֵׁם אֱלֹהֵיכֶם נֹתֵן לָכֶם וִירִשְׁתֶּם אֹתָהּ וִישַׁבְתֶּם בָּהּ:(לב) וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם לַעֲשׂוֹת אֵת כָּל הַחֻקִּים וְאֶת הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי נוֹתֵן לִפְנֵיכֶם הַיּוֹם:

“When Hashem your G-d brings you to the Land to which you are coming to inherit it, you shall place the blessing on Mount Gerizim and the curse on Mount Eival. Are they not on the other side of the Jordan, after the road of the setting sun, in the land of the Canaanites who dwell in the plain, opposite Gilgal, near the terebinths of Moreh? For you are crossing the Jordan to come to inherit the Land that Hashem your G-d is giving you; you shall inherit it and dwell in it. And you shall guard to perform all the statutes and the ordinances that I set before you today” (Devarim 11:26-32).

It is noteworthy that the choice between “life and death,” which refers to our tangible reality in this world, is not mentioned in our parasha. Instead, it is specifically the choice between “blessing and curse” – pointing to our eternal destiny in the World to Come – that is connected with crossing the Jordan, the defining boundary that distinguishes the Land of Israel from all other lands. Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehudah Berlin, the Netziv, explains that the purpose of crossing the Jordan and entering the Promised Land was that this great act would awaken the soul – for just as every significant action leaves a lasting impression on the soul, so too here, their miraculous entry into the Land etched a deep spiritual imprint within them (Ha‘amek Davar, Devarim 11:31). It is therefore no coincidence that the moment the Israelites took the leap of faith – to cross the Jordan into the Holy Land – became the very moment when our choice affecting Olam Haba – the world of souls – was activated.

What Turns a One-Time Miracle into a Life of Blessing?

The miracles of the Jordan’s splitting strengthened our emunah, as Rashi explains: “For you are crossing the Jordan…” – the miracles of the Jordan will be a sign in your hands that you will come and inherit the Land (Rashi, Devarim 11:31). These miracles not only assured us that the Land would be ours – they also awakened our soul. The Imrei Shammai teaches that the miracle was not an end in itself but a charge to live continually with the faith it inspired, for the purpose of all miracles is to draw us closer to Hashem in our daily lives. By the merit that they crossed the Jordan with the intent to drive out the inhabitants of the Land before them (Sotah 34a) – obeying Hashem’s voice and the voice of Yehoshua just as they had obeyed Moshe at the Sea of Reeds – they were rewarded. Both crossings were acts of faith and self-sacrifice, for the waters of the Jordan stood up as one wall, twelve mil high (11.5 km or 7+ miles) straight up! The people of Israel were in danger that the waters might rush upon them and drown them. Yet they believed in Hashem and in Yehoshua, as it is written, “And they feared him as they had feared Moshe all the days of his life” (Yehoshua 4:14). In the merit of this faith, they inherited the Land. The more we live a life of emunah – which can only be fully realized in the Land of Israel – the more we dwell in the spiritual dimension and awaken the eternity of our souls. Experiencing the miracles of the current war likewise strengthens the emunah of our soldiers. This faith is manifest in Israel’s courage to confront evil on multiple fronts, and in the belief that Hashem Himself is fighting our wars. Perhaps this very emunah inspired Israel’s decision on August 8 to conquer Gaza, defeating Hamas and concluding the war. May Hashem bring our complete victory soon!

October 7th has finally made it clear to most Israelis that we can only dwell securely on our land by conquering it completely, as it states: וִירִשְׁתֶּם… וִישַׁבְתֶּ – “you shall inherit it and dwell in it” (Devarim 11:31). Yet it also works the other way around – inheritance only becomes real through dwelling, via the everyday acts that root us in the Land: locking, fencing, planting, repairing. The Sifri teaches that this mitzvah is not complete without dwelling, for the essence of inheriting the Land is to take possession of it in a lasting way, which is only achieved by living there permanently (Torah Temimah, Devarim 11:31, note 47).

The Chatam Sofer deepens this concept by focusing on the miracles of the Jordan as proof of our merit to inherit the Land. He questions Rashi’s statement that these miracles would be a sign of inheritance and answers with the Talmudic story of the River Ginai, which replied to Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair’s command to split: “I certainly do the will of my Creator, but you – perhaps you do the will of your Creator?” (Babylonian Talmud, Chullin 7a). When the Jordan split before the Israelites, it testified that they were indeed doing the will of their Creator, for otherwise the Jordan – which surely fulfills its Creator’s will – would not have split for them. The splitting of the Jordan was thus not merely a miraculous passage; it was Heaven’s public testimony that Israel is worthy to inherit the Land, for the very forces of creation only move aside for those fulfilling Hashem’s will. May we be worthy of continued miracles to conquer the entire Aza and free all the hostages!

What Makes the Inheritance of the Holy Land Endure?

Parashat Re’eh summons us to see – to cultivate inner vision that recognizes how Hashem’s blessing becomes tangible, specifically in Eretz Yisrael. The Torah anchors this vision in place: the Jordan, the Gilgal, Har Gerizim, and Har Eival. Geography becomes pedagogy. We do not inherit abstractions – we inherit a holy Land through revealed miracles and sustained emunah. The declaration at the entrance to the Land of Israel about the curses that follow transgressing the mitzvot, and the blessings we merit by keeping them, teaches that the inheritance of the Land is dependent on performing its mitzvot. When we live in the Land for the sake of its mitzvot, the Land answers. Miracles become signs, signs become memory, and memory becomes a life in which וְעַמֵּךְ כֻּלָּם צַדִּיקִים – לְעוֹלָם יִירְשׁוּ אָרֶץ – “Your people are all righteous; they shall inherit the Land forever” (Yeshayahu 60:21). The Jordan still whispers to those who listen: walk forward – the dry ground of inheritance is waiting.

Parashat Eikev: How is the Goodness of the Promised Land a Portal to Deeper Blessings?

 

Parashat Eikev
How is the Goodness of the Promised Land a Portal to Deeper Blessings? 

What Is Better – A Rainy Day or a Sunny One, and Why Don’t I Own a Summer Raincoat?

Before flying to Denmark to celebrate my mother’s 90th birthday, she gently reminded me to bring a raincoat. In Denmark, even the month of August often comes with grey skies and a damp chill. Rain isn’t exactly a blessing – it’s more of a spoiler, dampening beach plans and family outings. Unlike in Israel, where rain is received like a kiss from Heaven, in Denmark, sunshine is the prized rarity. People even say that if the sun shines on your birthday, it means you were good all year round.
The truth is, I don’t even own a summer raincoat – except for the one I left hanging in my mother’s closet. In Israel, I’ve never needed it. From June through October, most years, not a drop of rain falls. Our summers are dry and searing, and the heat of Av can be overwhelming. But in this arid rhythm, I’ve learned something precious: the absence of rain awakens an intimate relationship with Hashem, our Provider. Rain isn’t just weather here – it’s a prayer, a yearning, a spiritual barometer. We feel its absence in our gardens and in our hearts. Unlike northern countries, where water flows endlessly from the faucet, here we collect the first cold splash of shower water in buckets to nourish our plants. After Sukkot, if the earth still cracks beneath our feet and our cherry tomatoes wilt in protest, we lift our eyes to Heaven. And so, begins our season of beseeching – a nation taught by its Land to treasure every drop and to remember the Source from which it flows.

What Do the Waters of the Land Reveal and How Do They Allude to Its Goodness?
In Parashat Eikev, Moshe prepares Am Yisrael to enter the Land by describing its unique nature in loving detail. He doesn’t just say the land is “good” – he shows us why:

ספר דברים פרק ח פסוק ז כִּי הַשֵּׁם אֱלֹהֶיךָ מְבִיאֲךָ אֶל אֶרֶץ טוֹבָה אֶרֶץ נַחֲלֵי מָיִם עֲיָנֹת וּתְהֹמֹת יֹצְאִים בַּבִּקְעָה וּבָהָר:

“For Hashem your G-d is bringing you to a good land, a land with brooks of water, fountains and depths, that emerge in valleys and mountains” (Devarim 8:7).

 

But what does it mean for a land to be “good”? These verses reveal that Eretz Yisrael is not just agriculturally rich – it’s spiritually alive. This isn’t simply a geographic description. The Land provides not only physical sustenance but also inner alignment with Divine flow. Moshe paints a rich, sensory image of the Promised Land’s unparalleled blessings – a land of water sources, rivers, springs, and subterranean depths (Devarim 8:7).

The Malbim explains that the Torah’s emphasis on dynamic, flowing waters – נַחֲלֵי מָיִם/nachlei mayim – “streams,” and תְּהֹמוֹת/tehomot – “underground depths” – evokes vitality, joy, and spiritual delight. This explains the spiritual energy available in Bat Ayin, which is so named for its many wellsprings. These waters are not merely practical resources, but expressions of the Land’s essence – constantly renewing and giving, like the Torah itself. Eretz Yisrael is not just a backdrop for holiness – it is a partner in it. It is not simply a place where good things happen. It is itself good – inherently, perpetually, and in a way that is meant to awaken the soul.

Sforno emphasizes the superiority of these waters: unlike stagnant canals and artificial reservoirs of other lands, the waters of Eretz Yisrael are alive – constantly flowing and renewing, a fitting metaphor for the Torah itself. The Land’s water nourishes with purity and vitality, just as Torah nourishes our inner life.

Rabbeinu Bachaya and the Shivtei Kohen reveal even more hidden meaning: these flowing waters are not only physical but also spiritual. The “depths” recall the primordial depths of creation – a reminder that unseen, buried forces sustain us. The streams and springs rising from valleys and mountains symbolize the full spectrum of Hashem’s blessing, emerging from both exalted heights and the most concealed places.

In our personal spiritual journeys, we often draw strength from visible streams – moments of inspiration and clarity. But the Torah here is teaching that in the Land of Israel, we are nourished even by that which is not seen. Hashem embeds His blessing in every layer of the Land – in the bubbling spring and the subterranean current. Life in the Land of Israel invites us to trust in the unseen, to believe that what feels barren may yet be overflowing with blessing.

Just as the physical waters of Eretz Yisrael well up from underground, so too its spiritual nourishment often comes from hidden places. The Land teaches us that even when the surface appears dry, Hashem’s blessing is flowing below – waiting to rise and renew. Now isn’t that true goodness?

What Does It Mean to Lack Nothing?

ספר דברים פרק ח פסוק ט

אֶרֶץ אֲשֶׁר לֹא בְמִסְכֵּנֻת תֹּאכַל בָּהּ לֶחֶם לֹא תֶחְסַר כֹּל בָּהּ אֶרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אֲבָנֶיהָ בַרְזֶל וּמֵהֲרָרֶיהָ תַּחְצֹב נְחשֶׁת:

“A land in which you will eat bread without poverty – you will lack nothing in it…” )Devarim 8:9).

This verse expresses not only abundance but fullness – a wholeness that is uniquely tied to Eretz Yisrael. According to Sforno, the Torah here reveals a progression of blessings: not only do the people have food, but they have dignity while eating – no poverty or humiliation accompanies their sustenance. And not only is there food, there is currency – not only survival, but stable prosperity. The phrase “you will lack nothing” includes the assurance of economic health – a subtle promise that the economy of the Land supports well-being without anxiety. We see this blessing unfolding even today. Despite nearly two years of warfare on multiple fronts, the Israeli stock market has remarkably outperformed its regional peers. After plunging 23% following the October 2023 Hamas attack, the Tel Aviv Stock Exchange rebounded within months, more than doubling its wartime low – a living testament to the Divine blessing embedded in the Land’s economy. Thus, more important than material prosperity is spiritual and emotional sufficiency.

Rabbeinu Bachayei brings another layer: the phrase “you will lack nothing” refers to the land’s inherent completeness. He notes that the word אֶרֶץ/eretz – “land” – appears six times in this short passage (Devarim 8:7-9), alluding to the six climatic zones of the earth. Each of these receives spiritual sustenance from Eretz Yisrael, pointing to the centrality of the Land in the cosmic design. The seventh mention, however – “you shall bless Hashem, your G-d, for the good land He has given you” – highlights the sanctity of the seventh realm, the inner dimension of the Land, corresponding to Yerushalayim. This is the navel of creation, praised by David HaMelech as “the joy of all the earth” (Tehillim 48:3). Only here is the soul fully at peace, for only here is the physical landscape in alignment with the Source of blessing.

I’ve often marveled at how this small strip of land contains so many climate zones – from the snowy slopes of the Hermon to the arid heat of Eilat, from the tropical springs of Ein Gedi to the Mediterranean coastline, from the lush valleys of the Galilee to the cool Judean hills. This variety reflects the Land’s role as the spiritual root of all creation – a microcosm of the world’s goodness, concentrated in one sacred place. Indeed, the flora and fauna of Israel, situated at the crossroads of three continents, mirror its geographical and spiritual diversity.

In exile, we may gather much yet still feel empty. If it wasn’t my mother’s birthday, I would never want to vacation anywhere else than in Israel. Because here, the bread we eat is not just nourishment – it is a reminder that we belong. Here, physical blessing and spiritual identity merge. And that is what it truly means to have nothing lacking.

What Is Hidden in the Mountains?

ספר דברים פרק ח פסוק ט 

אֶרֶץ אֲשֶׁר לֹא בְמִסְכֵּנֻת תֹּאכַל בָּהּ לֶחֶם לֹא תֶחְסַר כֹּל בָּהּ אֶרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אֲבָנֶיהָ בַרְזֶל וּמֵהֲרָרֶיהָ תַּחְצֹב נְחשֶׁת:

“A land in which you will eat bread without scarcity, you will lack nothing in it, a land whose stones are iron, and from whose mountains you will mine copper” (Devarim 8:9).

The Torah now reveals another layer – the wealth hidden in the very terrain. Rabbeinu Bachaya views these stones and mountains as metaphorical as well as literal: even the hardest elements of the Land – its rocks – become sources of strength, construction, and wealth when sanctified through human effort. HaEmek Davar teaches that while physical sustenance once came through miracles in the desert, in the Land of Israel it flows through our work and our words – and even after the Temple’s destruction, our blessings and prayers become spiritual mining tools.

The Shivtei Kohen links these verses to the redemptive power of labor in the Land. Though the desert offered ready-made food and shelter, in the Land, we engage in the holy process of extracting, refining, and elevating the material. Even the metals for our pots and tools must be mined, shaped, and sanctified. But here lies the miracle: the more we dig, the more we discover that holiness lies within. In Eretz Yisrael, the mundane becomes a vessel for the sacred.

When digging the entrance road to Bat Ayin, workers uncovered an ancient mikveh and winepress from the Second Temple period – a literal unearthing of our sacred past, still embedded in the Holy Land. The physical beauty of the mountains hints at their inner purpose: to draw us upward. And as we climb them – both literally and spiritually – we chip away at the coverings of our own souls, revealing the gleaming essence Hashem planted within.

How Does This Land Nourish the Soul?

Through its natural features – its waters, grains, fruits, and precious minerals – the Land of Israel whispers its secrets to us. The list of seven species of the Holy Land (Devarim 8:8) mentioned between these verses is not just agricultural bounties – they are channels of spiritual repair. Each one represents a different sefirah, a facet of Divine light, and collectively they nourish all dimensions of the Jewish soul.

This is why Sforno teaches that only in Eretz Yisrael are all forms of goodness found together – from essential food to royal delicacies, from water that quenches to minerals that build. The Land is complete in a way no other region is. It not only sustains the body – it awakens memory, destiny, and the yearning to return to wholeness.

Hashem is bringing us into a Land unlike any other. A Land where valleys and mountains both carry blessings. Where water and wheat, pomegranates and copper, are more than resources – they are reminders. Reminders that even in physicality, holiness pulses. And when we live with that awareness, we find ourselves not only in the Land – but aligned with the Divine plan for our people and for the world.