This week’s Torah portion, Bechukotai, begins: If you walk in the path of My mitzvot and my laws and you observe and do them….I will grant peace in the land (Lev. 26:3,6) 

Even though the specifics of the mitzvot and the laws are somewhat fuzzy, I still think I know what it means to walk God’s paths. I know that it means not to kill a living, breathing soul without a damn good reason. I think it means to love, honor, and respect oneself and to extend the same to all others. I think it means to never do harm, and then, if you do, to try to repair whatever was harmed. I think it means to believe the best in others, to forgive most of the time, and to understand that “a rising tide lifts all boats.” Honestly, I think we all know what it means to walk in the paths of the Divine. I just don’t understand why it seems so hard for us all to get it. My soul is sick with sorrow for all those who have, or are experiencing the trauma of murder, of starvation, of displacement, of bulliing, of poor health care, of poverty, of addictions, of life, and of death. 

I know that it does no good to allow my soul to languish or to feel powerless in the face of so many problems, but what can I do? “I lift my eyes to the mountains, seeking help,” says the Psalmist. Perhaps I need to lift my eyes from the newspapers, from live feed, and from social media. I need to allow my soul to breathe, rather than feel anger or despair. I fear, though, that somehow I am shirking my responsibilities, or using my privilege (luck?) to look away from these disasters, because, blissfully, they have not affected me personally. Torah also teaches us that we may not stand idly by when another is in danger. So, again, I languish. Perhaps my answer comes from the second line of the psalm and an interpretation of faith by Abraham Joshua Heschel. The next line of the psalm reads: “My help comes from Adonai, who made the heavens and the earth.” I need to take a breath and look towards the beauty in the world; I need to look at the stars at night, and the beauty of the day and recognize the Divinity in it all.  Heschel would call this “wonder.” Our spirituality, our faith, begins with surprise and wonder at the world. Like a child (or a puppy) who is intensely curious and wondrous about everything, I too need wonder in my soul in order to move beyond the despair.  “My help comes from Adonai…”  the wellspring of wonder. Heschel would also teach that our relationship with God must be reciprocal. We rely on God because God relies on us. “Faith,” he writes, “is an awareness of divine mutuality and companionship…”

The current political scene, another school shooting, another supermarket shooting, the second anniversary of George Floyd’s killing, starvation in sub-Saharan Africa, hatred of the transgender community… in fact, the whole news cycle, is beyond upsetting. The idea that our help comes from many places - an attitude of wonder that brings us into a mutual relationship with the Divine. A healthy relationship with the Divine also brings us closer to one another and closer to the kind of world for which we pray.

Not if but when we walk in God’s path, and we practice God’s mitzvot; when we recognize and bless the miracle of life….then, perhaps, we will see peace in the land. Frankly, we can see it every day in many places. We only need to lift our eyes…

Shabbat Shalom. May the memories of those who gave their lives in our nation’s wars be a blessing. May their memories be bound up in the bond of life.