Posted on May 8, 2026 by Rabbi Noah Diamondstein
Dear friends,
We are moving out of the Book of Leviticus/Vayikra after this Shabbat, and the third book of the Torah finishes in a quite heavy-handed way. Our double portions of Behar and Bechukotai contain one of the most straightforward expressions of what is at stake regarding our observance of mitzvot. Follow the mitzvot, and we will be blessed with a Promised Land that eternally has enough rain, and thus enough crops, and that can thus house us safely for eternity. Fail to follow the mitzvot however, and all manner of horrible curses will come our way. The land will almost literally spit us out. This is a reward-punishment theology that I have never been comfortable with. As a Reform Jew who feels obligated to make authentic choices about which mitzvot I will and will not incorporate into my Jewish practice, it is difficult to see myself in such texts.
This week, I came across a Chassidic commentary that has bolstered me in my own approach to Torah, mitzvot, and the notion of doing what is right as a Jew. Reb Simcha Bunim, the great, late 18th Century Polish master, was commenting on this verse from Parashat Behar: “You shall not defraud one another, rather you shall fear your God; for I am The ETERNAL your God.” (Lev. 25:17) R. Bunim was asked: “What is a Chasid (one truly devoted to God)?” and he answered: “A Chasid, according to Maimonides, is one who always goes beyond the letter of the law. When the Torah states, ‘You shall not defraud one another,’ the Chasid takes it one step further and does not defraud himself, either.”
As modern Jews who understand the human elements in the Torah’s composition and the pieces of its teaching that do not apply, we have the responsibility to not defraud ourselves. Simultaneously, we must not take on unnecessary guilt for those practices we are choosing conscientiously to abstain from, AND we must admit when our refraining from following mitzvot has come from a place of convenience, rather than conscience. I understand why the early Reformers of Germany deleted the reward-punishment paragraph from the V’ahavta in their prayerbooks, but I also greatly appreciate my teacher of blessed memory R. Richard Levy’s reframing of the text. It is in his spirit that I offer this guidance as we enter Shabbat, and so it is with his words that I will end this letter:
If we can hear the words from Sinai
then love will flow from us;
and we shall serve all that is holy
with all our intellect and all our passion and all our life.
If we can serve all that is holy,
we shall be doing all that humans can
to help the rains to flow,
the grasses to be green,
the grains to be golden like the sun,
and the rivers to be filled with life once more.
All the children of God shall eat and there will be enough.
But if we turn from Sinai’s words
and serve only what is common and profane,
making gods of our own comfort or power,
then the holiness of life will contract for us;
our world will grow inhospitable.
Let us therefore lace these words
into our passion and our intellect,
and bind them as a sign upon our hands and eyes.
Let us write them in mezuzot upon our doors,
and teach them to our children.
Let us honor the generations that came before us,
keeping the promise for those yet to be.
Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazeik,
Rabbi Noah Diamondstein