Bechukotai: Becoming Faithful Ancestors

Parashat Bechukotai invites us to reflect on the deeply intertwined relationships we have with our ancestors, the Divine, and the Torah itself. As we conclude the Book of Leviticus (VaYikra), we might find ourselves relieved to move past the detailed laws of sacrifices and priestly duties. However, to dismiss this book as merely a legalistic manual is to overlook its profound and urgent messages about morality and communal life.

Renowned scholar, Professor Jacob Milgrom, of blessed memory, often emphasized that Leviticus is not just a book of law but a book of love. The intricate details within are not meant to burden us but to illustrate the care required in our relationship with God and each other. These ancient texts teach us how to build a beloved community, one that embodies the Golden Rule found in Leviticus 19: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Leviticus calls us to recognize the visceral connection we have with the Divine. In ancient times, offering a sacrifice involved a physical connection — we placed our hands on the offering, feeling its heartbeat, experiencing a profound moment of vulnerability. While we no longer perform such rituals, the underlying principle remains relevant: our connection to God and each other must be tangible and heartfelt. When we care for another person, we are, in essence, holding onto an image of God.

Within this week’s portion, we encounter the powerful notion of divine remembrance in times of failure. Leviticus 26:42 reassures us that God will remember the covenant made with our ancestors — Jacob, Isaac, and Abraham — even when we fall short. The order of this remembrance is significant. Typically, we recite the patriarchs in chronological order: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. However, this verse reverses the order, beginning with Jacob. An ancient Midrash, the Sifra, suggests that this sequence reflects a hierarchy of merit, starting with the most recent ancestor and reaching back if needed. This indicates that in moments of deep vulnerability, we are never alone; our ancestors’ merit and God’s enduring promise are always there to support us.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, poignantly wrote about this enduring hope in the face of suffering. He reminded us that despite Israel’s trials, hope will never be abandoned. Exile and persecution may occur, but hope remains. The placement of God’s promise to remember us at the end of a series of curses underscores a vital biblical truth that pain does not get the last word.

We are part of a timeless chain of tradition. Our ancestors reach forward through the ages to hold us, to comfort us, and to promise us that we will never be alone. By connecting to the Torah and its teachings, we traverse time, feeling the embrace of those who came before us. This lineage of support and love is a source of immense strength and hope.

As we celebrate milestones, both the uplifting ones and the terribly tragic, we are reminded of the sacred continuity and resilience of our people. We are living links in this chain, charged with the responsibility to uphold and transmit these values to future generations, just as our ancestors did for us. If we do our part authentically, our actions today will become the legacy that our descendants look back on with pride and gratitude.

In moments of solitude or doubt, we can draw strength from this rich heritage. Our ancestors, from the founders of our faith to those who rebuilt it in times of crisis, inspire us to persevere and to contribute to the ongoing story of our people. This enduring connection is a testament to the beauty of our tradition and the faithfulness of God’s promise.

Let us close with the wisdom of Rabbi Sacks, who taught us that despite suffering, we will never perish. He reminds us that the assurance at the culmination of curses in Bechukotai is one of the most hopeful biblical assertions: “No fate is so bleak as to murder hope itself. No defeat is final, no exile endless, no tragedy the last word of the story.”

Let us reaffirm our commitment to being the ancestors our descendants deserve, so that our children’s children’s children will always feel the loving embrace of their heritage.

May we find strength in these eternal connections, joy in our tradition, and hope in the promises that bind us together across time.