Parashat
Behar/Bechukotai
How does
keeping the Sabbatical and Jubilee Years Bring About Redemption?
Why is
it a Great Challenge to become a Guest in “Your Own” Garden?
Keeping
the Sabbatical year in Israel can be challenging, especially for farmers, and
even for very small-scale gardeners like myself. Being a workaholic, I
find it difficult to let go of improving my surroundings. It’s not simple to
abstain from working the land and truly let go, letting G-d take over. Rather
than noticing which plants are unhappy, which one needs compost, or more water
or light, the Sabbatical year – Shemitta – is about completely releasing
ownership and appreciating what is.
It took
me several seven-year cycles to finally reach a place where I could feel like a
guest in “my own” garden. Truly internalizing that I don’t own it – that I am
merely an eternal renter with a contract from the true Landlord, who reclaims
His ownership every seven years – was not immediate. I still remember my first Shemitta
year in Bat Ayin and how uncomfortable I felt when, from my kitchen window, I
saw a neighbor casually trampling into my garden and helping himself to the
ripest cherry tomatoes – the very ones I had planned to harvest the next day in
honor of Shabbat.
It was a
great challenge to silence my inner voice: “These are my tomatoes! I worked so
hard to prepare the soil, plant the seeds, raise the stakes, and ensure they
had enough water. How could he have the nerve… without even asking permission?!”
While I was able to intellectually accept that the laws of Shemitta
grant equal access to all produce growing in the Land of Israel, that inner
voice still kept whispering in the back of my mind each Shemitta year –
until my fourth Shemitta cycle in Bat Ayin.
Finally,
during the most recent Shemitta, I learned to let go and truly relax.
After living on the land for over 30 years, I was finally able to completely silence
the voice of ownership, even letting go of concern for the fallen fruits that,
if left too long, would become infested. No longer did I feel compelled to pick
up every single fruit, rinse, inspect, mash, and add to preserves of every kind.
For the first time, instead of noticing all the things that needed improvement
in my garden, I could simply delight in its beauty.
How Does the
Shemitta Year Parallel a Husband-and-Wife Relationship?
Living in Eretz
Yisrael grants us a relationship with the land that mirrors the depth and
sanctity of marriage. Just as a husband and wife must count seven days of
separation following a woman’s cycle, so too do we release physical interaction
with the Land every seven years. Just as Shemitta teaches us to
relinquish our sense of ownership over the land, the laws of taharat
hamishpacha (family purity) train a husband to let go of any illusion of
ownership over his wife.
The Shemitta
year ingrains within us the truth that we never fully possess the Land – we are
only its caretakers. Likewise, the marital cycle of withdrawal and reunion
emphasizes that a woman is not an object of possession, and that marriage is a
partnership of mutual respect. Our relationship with the Holy Land is similar:
it requires reverence, space, and time off for recharging. Stepping back for a
time allows for renewal and reconnection. Coming together again breaks the
feeling of entitlement and opens the door for deeper love.
The same is true
in marriage. Stepping away from physical contact can break stale patterns, the
pause offers fresh possibilities for growing together, and opens the heart to
rediscovery – new pathways into each other’s souls. Keeping the hands-off laws
of the Shemitta year, approaching the Land with humility, reverence, and
gratitude, empowers us to reach new levels in the Land. As the Talmud teaches:
“In the year following the conclusion of the Sabbatical Year, the son of David
will come” (Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 97a). It is through letting go
that we prepare the ground – and ourselves – for redemption.
Why is Exile
the Consequence of Neglecting Shemitta Observance?
Since keeping
the Shemitta year prepares us for redemption, it makes sense that neglecting
fulfilling the mitzvot of Shemitta causes exile, as it states, “Because of the
sin of neglecting the Sabbatical and Jubilee years, exile comes to the world...”
(Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 33a). This Talmudic statement is based on
the following verses in Parashat B’Chukotai:
ספר ויקרא פרק כו פסוק לד אָז
תִּרְצֶה הָאָרֶץ אֶת שַׁבְּתֹתֶיהָ כֹּל יְמֵי הָשַּׁמָּה וְאַתֶּם בְּאֶרֶץ
אֹיְבֵיכֶם אָז תִּשְׁבַּת הָאָרֶץ וְהִרְצָת אֶת שַׁבְּתֹתֶיהָ: (לה)
כָּל יְמֵי הָשַּׁמָּה תִּשְׁבֹּת אֵת אֲשֶׁר לֹא שָׁבְתָה בְּשַׁבְּתֹתֵיכֶם
בְּשִׁבְתְּכֶם עָלֶיהָ:
“Then, the land will be appeased regarding
its sabbaticals. During all the days that it remains desolate while you are in
the land of your enemies, the Land will rest and thus appease its sabbaticals.
It will rest during all the days that it remains desolate, whatever it had not
rested on your sabbaticals, when you lived upon it (Vayikra 26:34-35).
Rashi explains that the seventy-year
Babylonian exile was a measure-for-measure punishment – one year of exile for
each Sabbatical year (Shemitta or Yovel) that the Israelites failed to observe.
Over 436 years during which the people consistently sinned and
neglected Shemitta, there should have been seventy sacred years of rest for the
land. Because these years were disregarded, Hashem exiled the people to allow
the land to “rest” in their absence. As it states: “Until the land was appeased
for its Shabbatot… until the completion of seventy years” (II Divrei Hayamim
36:21).
The Torah teaches us to keep Shemitta to
absorb the Infinite Light within Eretz Yisrael. The holiness of the land is
reserved for those willing to meet the conditions to access this Infinite
Light. Only by following this practice do we deserve to live in the Holy Land.
This explains why the consequence of neglecting to observe Shemitta results in the
severe punishment of exile from the Holy Land.
The Netivot Shalom deepens this
understanding: The Shemitta year imbues the Land with holiness. When the laws
of Shemitta are not upheld, the נְשָׁמָה/neshama – ‘soul’ of the Land departs. And with the
departure of its soul, exile from the Holy Land inevitably follows (Netivot
Shalom, Vayikra, p. 106).
Why Does Resting Bring About
Restoration?
Shemitta applies only in Eretz Yisrael, revealing
the land’s elevated spiritual stature and the unique sanctity of its fruits.
The produce of the Holy Land contains a distinctive energy and holiness, as
reflected in the blessings we recite over the seven species native to it. Rebbe
Nachman teaches that ascending to the highest levels of spirituality is not
linear – it often involves being pushed back. Yet if we accept these setbacks
with simcha (joy), we actually expand our capacity to receive greater Divine
light (Likutey Moharan 24). His student, Rav Nachman of Tcherin,
explains that this process is foundational: learning how to face pauses and
delays with joy becomes essential for progress in all areas of life (Yekara
d’Shabbat on LM 24).
This idea is mirrored in many physical disciplines, where the rest between exertions is what brings about the deepest restoration. One of our meditative movement teachers used to say, “Let the pause do its good work.” In moments of stillness, we shift shape – we let go of who we were to become something new. In the process of meditative movement, the pause is essential to transformation – the shedding of the old habit of being. Likewise, after six years of working the land and drawing the spiritual dimension from within the Holy Land and its fruit, Shemitta invites us to stop. Only by letting go – by pausing completely – can we truly internalize the light of the Land.
In today’s fast-paced world, where we are constantly rushing and overextended, the mitzvah of Shemitta offers a powerful spiritual remedy. Taking a break isn’t easy; we fear losing ground. But relentless movement without renewal can lead to burnout. Shemitta teaches us how to pause before we collapse – how to breathe and become whole again. This seventh-year rest is not only agricultural – it is a Divine prescription for spiritual and emotional healing.
(Inspired by Rabbi Meir Elkabas, The Restraint of Shemittah)
This idea is mirrored in many physical disciplines, where the rest between exertions is what brings about the deepest restoration. One of our meditative movement teachers used to say, “Let the pause do its good work.” In moments of stillness, we shift shape – we let go of who we were to become something new. In the process of meditative movement, the pause is essential to transformation – the shedding of the old habit of being. Likewise, after six years of working the land and drawing the spiritual dimension from within the Holy Land and its fruit, Shemitta invites us to stop. Only by letting go – by pausing completely – can we truly internalize the light of the Land.
In today’s fast-paced world, where we are constantly rushing and overextended, the mitzvah of Shemitta offers a powerful spiritual remedy. Taking a break isn’t easy; we fear losing ground. But relentless movement without renewal can lead to burnout. Shemitta teaches us how to pause before we collapse – how to breathe and become whole again. This seventh-year rest is not only agricultural – it is a Divine prescription for spiritual and emotional healing.
(Inspired by Rabbi Meir Elkabas, The Restraint of Shemittah)
The Return to Our Source During the
Jubilee Year
Parashat Behar
introduces the mitzvah of the Jubilee year – a spiritual milestone that
challenges us even more than the Sabbatical year. After observing seven full
Shemitta cycles, the Torah calls upon us to sanctify an additional year – the
fiftieth – and to refrain from working the land for a second consecutive year:
ספר ויקרא פרק כה פסוק ח וְסָפַרְתָּ לְךָ שֶׁבַע שַׁבְּתֹת שָׁנִים שֶׁבַע
שָׁנִים שֶׁבַע פְּעָמִים וְהָיוּ לְךָ יְמֵי שֶׁבַע שַׁבְּתֹת הַשָּׁנִים תֵּשַׁע
וְאַרְבָּעִים (ט) וְהַעֲבַרְתָּ שׁוֹפַר תְּרוּעָה בַּחֹדֶשׁ הַשְּׁבִעִי
בֶּעָשׂוֹר לַחֹדֶשׁ בְּיוֹם הַכִּפֻּרִים תַּעֲבִירוּ שׁוֹפָר בְּכָל אַרְצְכֶם:(י)
וְקִדַּשְׁתֶּם אֵת שְׁנַת הַחֲמִשִּׁים שָׁנָה וּקְרָאתֶם דְּרוֹר בָּאָרֶץ לְכָל
ישְׁבֶיהָ יוֹבֵל הִוא תִּהְיֶה לָכֶם וְשַׁבְתֶּם אִישׁ אֶל אֲחֻזָּתוֹ וְאִישׁ
אֶל מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ תָּשֻׁבוּ: (יא) יוֹבֵל הִוא שְׁנַת הַחֲמִשִּׁים
שָׁנָה תִּהְיֶה לָכֶם לֹא תִזְרָעוּ וְלֹא תִקְצְרוּ אֶת סְפִיחֶיהָ וְלֹא
תִבְצְרוּ אֶת נְזִרֶיהָ:
“Then you shall count for yourself seven
sabbatical years, seven times. The days of these seven sabbatical years shall
amount to forty-nine years for you. You shall proclaim with shofar blasts... on
the Day of Atonement... You shall sanctify the fiftieth year and proclaim freedom
throughout the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a Jubilee for you, and
you shall return, each man to his property, and each man to his family. The
fiftieth year shall be a Jubilee for you; you shall not sow, nor reap its
aftergrowth, nor pick its grapes [for yourself] ... (Vayikra 25:8-1).
In this sacred year, we not only observe
the agricultural release of Shemitta – refraining from planting and allowing
the produce of the fields to be available to all – but we also witness a full societal
reset. Land holdings return to their original families. All Hebrew slaves go
free. The Yovel year represents a collective return to the roots of our truest
self, reconnecting with what is most essential in our lives.
This is why the Torah emphasizes that Yovel
is proclaimed specifically on Yom Kippur. As the Maharal explains, Yovel and
Yom Kippur are intrinsically linked. Both are about return – whether of land,
people, or soul. Just as the Jubilee returns land to its ancestral owner and
releases the slave to freedom, Yom Kippur returns the sinner to innocence,
restoring us to our original state of purity and perfection (Maharal, Gur
Aryeh, Vayikra 25:9).
This return is not only personal but
cosmic. The fiftieth year alludes to the Fiftieth Gate – the level of
transcendent Divine light that lies beyond the bounds of human logic and
limitation. To let the land lie fallow
for two full years – Shemitta followed by Yovel – is the ultimate act of
emunah. It demands that we fully surrender all ownership and rely entirely on
Hashem. Yet in that very restraint lies the seed of ultimate restoration. The
more fully we let go, the more space we create for something infinitely greater
to return.
May we merit to reach this sacred return –
to come back to our highest selves, and be restored to our rightful portion in
the Holy Land, aligned with the essence of our souls.
Here We Keep Shemitta
Here We Keep Shemitta
