Shabbat Greetings
Having just emerged from Tisha B’Av (the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av), we carry with us the memory of destruction; not only the destruction of the Holy Temple, but the recurring tragedies that have marked Jewish history whenever our covenantal ideals have fractured. Tisha B’Avreminds us that the loss of sovereignty is never merely political; it is also spiritual. The prophets teach that when justice is abandoned, compassion gives way to division, and the vulnerable are forgotten, the foundations of society begin to crumble.
Against that backdrop, Moses’ words in this week’s Torah portion, Vaetchanan (Deuteronomy 3:23–7:11), take on renewed significance. As he prepared the Israelites to enter the Land, he expressed confidence that Israel’s covenant with God would one day inspire the nations. “Observe them faithfully,” he says, “for that will be proof of your wisdom and discernment to other peoples” (Deuteronomy 4:6). As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks shared, “Moses envisioned a society built upon the equal dignity of every human being, governed by justice, compassion, and the recognition that all people are created in the image of God. He believed that such a society would become a model for humanity.”
History suggests that, in many ways, he was right. One of the clearest examples can be found in the political ideals of the United States. While America is not a biblical society, many of its founding principles were deeply shaped by the Hebrew Bible. The idea of covenant, a people bound together not simply by geography or power but by shared moral responsibility, became central to early American political thought.
That influence grew through two remarkable developments: the invention of the printing press and the translation of the Bible into English. The widespread availability of Scripture inspired philosophers, political thinkers, and the early English settlers of America. A movement known as the Christian Hebraists studied not only the Tanach (Hebrew Bible) but also rabbinic texts, including Tractate Sanhedrin and Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah. They applied biblical principles to the political questions of their day.
Their study produced several lasting ideas. Many argued that republican government better reflected the Bible than monarchy. They emphasized society’s obligation to care for the poor through justice, not charity alone. They also pointed to the Bible’s separation of religious and political authority as support for religious liberty and limits on concentrated power.
This conversation feels especially timely as states like Texas debate introducing more Bible stories into public school curricula. Such discussions raise important questions about the relationship between religion, history, and civic education. As Jews, we can appreciate the profound influence of the Hebrew Bible on Western civilization and democratic ideals. At the same time, we know these sacred texts must be taught with historical context, intellectual honesty, and respect for our religiously diverse society. The goal should not be to use the Bible as a political weapon or an instrument of religious coercion, but to explore its enduring moral vision. When students encounter Abraham’s hospitality, Moses’ demand to “Let my people go,” the prophets’ calls for justice, or the Torah’s repeated command to love the stranger, they engage ideas that have shaped civilizations for millennia. The challenge is not simply to teach Bible stories, but to wrestle with the values they proclaim: justice, human dignity, responsibility, and freedom.
Tisha B’Av reminds us what happens when those values are forgotten. Our sages never attributed the destruction of the Temple simply to military defeat. They pointed instead to baseless hatred, moral failure, and the erosion of communal responsibility. Whenever Judaism becomes a source of division rather than a wellspring of justice, compassion, and holiness, we lose sight of the covenant’s true purpose.
Moses’ vision remains as urgent today as it was on the plains of Moab. The Torah was never meant to be only a guide for personal piety. It is a blueprint for building a society marked by justice, compassion, care for the stranger, protection of the vulnerable, and reverence for the image of God in every human being. These are not peripheral values; they are the heart of the covenant.
As we move beyond Tisha B’Av and begin the slow journey toward consolation, perhaps this is the question the day leaves us: How do we rebuild? The answer begins where Moses began, not with power, but with covenant; not merely with sovereignty, but with responsibility; not simply by remembering our losses, but by living lives that make God’s wisdom visible in the eyes of the nations.
SHABBAT SHALOM