D'var Torah

The Torah commands us to be a nation of priests and to make the earth a place for God to dwell. And it’s not possible to do that from behind bars.

That’s Kedoshim’s point – that those of us who own land (and its modern equivalent, a bank account) have an undeniable responsibility to support those who don’t. 

This is as relevant for us today as it was in the Ramban’s time: That which we consume has the power to consume us. There’s nothing today we consume more than media.

‘I was asleep, but my heart was wakeful.’ The first part of this verse is a call. ...Within myself there is something to be awakened.

Passover’s story reminds us to see ourselves as newly freed slaves. The Nachshon story invites us to see ourselves as agents of miracles.

The Kli Yakar (16th century, Prague)... says that it is this stinginess that brings “tzara’at of houses,” that our refusal to share is what will ultimately destroy our homes and society.

The haftarah in the guise of Naaman says that one need not be defined by tzara’at – or, we add, any aspect of ourselves by which others define us, as though we are unidimensional.

Without the structure of community and the grounding of ritual, my action, based on the heat of my emotions, would be like a wildfire rather than a well-tended altar.

When leaders choose discrimination and censorship, when they care more about excess for some rather than access for all, Achashverosh is still among us.  

...as we learn from Leviticus, for communal sin there can be expiation. The process begins not with bringing a bull to the sanctuary, but with a commitment to learn history, and a commitment to ensure that history is learned by others.