Parashat Behar – Bechukotai

I started keeping Shabbat in a more traditional way in college. I found that I needed it more than I did in high school. Even though my coursework at NYU was not nearly as challenging as that of my Solomon Schechter Westchester classes, I found that I was often overwhelmed. I was always in class, running a club, working a part-time job, or even just sharing a bedroom with a new roommate — I didn’t get much downtime so I created some.

This week, we read some of the most down-to-earth mitzvot, specifically about the commandment of Shmita, the sabbatical year. וְשָׁבְתָה הָאָרֶץ שַׁבָּת לַה׳, the land shall observe a sabbath of God (Leviticus  25:2). Rashi connects this to the commandment to keep Shabbat in Exodus 20:10. Every seventh year, the people of Israel must let the land rest. They are to cease work and simply allow the earth to be.

The Torah imagines a world where rest is not a reward or a luxury you earn after working hard enough. Instead, rest is a built-in, sacred rhythm. It is commanded, essential. This seems deeply countercultural to me today.

We live in a society that celebrates hustle. Productivity is prized. Busyness is worn like a badge of honor. Our phones buzz constantly. We work late. We check email on vacation. Following the news in America and Israel alone feels like a full-time job. Stopping feels unnatural. Even uncomfortable. But Parashat Behar reminds us that sacred pause is not an interruption of real life; it is the heart of it. Just as the land needs rest, so do we. Not as an afterthought. Not after burnout. But as a regular, intentional practice.

 

We are currently on a cycle of 7s as we count the Omer, the 7 weeks connecting Passover to Shavuot. This is a time that our tradition says is one of sadness and mourning, but as Jews we know that during tough times, perhaps especially so, we need to find time to disconnect and reconnect. 

Keeping Shabbat in today’s world is a revolutionary act. To take a full day each week and say: I have everything I need. I will not buy, scroll, post, plan, or create. Instead, I will just be. I will be present with my people, with my God.

Shabbat is not just rest. It’s resistance. It resists our society’s claim that we are only valuable when we’re producing. It resists technology’s demand that we always be connected. It resists the inner voice that says, you are not enough. Taking a break from this voice is essential for our students’ developing brains, and for adults as well. 

What Shmita teaches us is that rest takes courage. Imagine telling an ancient Israelite farmer to let the land lie fallow for a year. No planting. No business plan. Just trust and faith.

Finding real rest today, whether that is keeping Shabbat or another practice, requires that same kind of courage. We fear falling behind. We fear missing out. But when we stop, we remember we are not in control, and that’s okay. We can treat every Shabbat like a mini shmita, where we give ourselves and those around us a little more spaciousness as a sacred responsibility to ourselves and others.

May we have the courage, the trust, and faith to give ourselves a holy break. May we honor Shabbat—not just as a commandment, but as a gift. And may our choice to rest ripple outward, healing ourselves,  our relationships, our planet, and our world.