Weekly D’var: Ki Teitzei

by | Sep 9, 2022 | Hillel Ontario, Weekly D'var | 0 comments

Deuteronomy 23 :22 When you make a vow to the LORD your God, do not put off fulfilling it, for the LORD your God will require it of you, and you will have incurred guilt;  23 whereas you incur no guilt if you refrain from vowing.  24 You must fulfill what has crossed your lips and perform what you have voluntarily vowed to the LORD your God, having made the promise with your own mouth.

This week’s parasha, Ki Teitzei, is one of those that is so incredibly filled with laws and teachings that, to choose a topic for a drash, it feels to me as if I’m doing a disservice, both to the text itself and to those who might read this. With that in mind, do me a favour and give this week’s parasha a read and see what jumps out at you; whether you’re inspired or angered or confused, or whatever really, give this week’s text some time and think about it, or reach out and talk about it with me or with someone else that you trust.

The topics in this week’s parasha range from the seemingly mundane (laws regarding safety, property, and prohibited mixtures) to the much more intense laws surrounding war, slavery, kidnapping, and sexual offences. I want to take a moment here to talk about vows, a topic that may seem mundane, but one that can have a serious impact when undertaken lightly.

The above quoted verses expand upon a familiar line from the beginning of Parashat Matot, which states, “If one makes a vow to the LORD or takes an oath imposing an obligation on themselves, they shall not break their pledge, but must carry out all that has crossed their lips.” (Numbers 30:3), adding to it some significant points. In this week’s parasha, we are directed not merely to keep the vows we make to God, but to ensure that we do not delay our fulfillment of such vows as we will incur guilt.

Our tradition has a complicated relationship with vows and oaths.  Vows are mentioned a number of times throughout the Torah and, in fact, there is an entire tractate of the Talmud dedicated to the topic (Nedarim), but we are given to understand not to undertake them lightly. In fact, we are reminded this week that we need not take them at all, stating, “you incur no guilt if you refrain from vowing”. Vows and oaths, as the tradition understands them, are not simply intentions that we have for our behaviour, but specific statements, invoking the name of God, typically to abstain from a particular behaviour or activity. We should be no less flippant in our personal intentions and commitments.

At the beginning of the year, we often make of point of setting goals and committing to particular outcomes and, of course, there is nothing wrong with making commitments to ourselves; however, I would encourage us to be informed by this parsha when thinking about these commitments.  We are enjoined by Moses in these verses to fulfill our promises as soon as possible.  In order to do so, we must ensure that our commitments are reasonable. It is not uncommon to say to oneself that “I will always do” one thing or “I will never do” this other thing, but when we use this absolute language, we are being unrealistic and potentially endangering the very quality that we are attempting to safeguard in making the commitment. These personal commitments and promises may not hold the status of vows as defined by our tradition, but the consequences felt in failing to uphold them can be devastating. For someone beginning a new endeavour or taking up a potentially beneficial practice, there is a tendency to fall into all or nothing thinking. Many people will try to take on the full practice or all of the rules at one time only to find it overwhelming. Many years ago, when I first tried to take on Shabbat observance, as soon as I made a mistake I would either be overcome with guilt or simply give up for the rest of the day, reverting to old ways. Happily for me, my rabbi recognized my frustration and anxiety and encouraged me to take things more slowly, building up my observance over time, making my goal not perfection, but progress.

The third verse in the above quoted passage, Deuteronomy 23:24, is generally taken as a continuation on the theme of vows and most of our medieval commentators ensure us that “what goes out from your lips” is necessarily a vow of some kind that we must “keep” or “guard”.  Refreshingly, the Sefat Emet (19th c. Rabbi and Commentator, Yehuda Leib Alter of Ger) explains this verse on its own, saying that what “comes out as we open our mouths” is “the breath and the inward self”.  He states that it is through the mitzvah of study that we are able to guard this inner breath, which carries in it “the very root of a person’s life”, and goes on to say that this guarding “stands at the root of all one’s deeds”, for as our rabbis taught (Kiddushin 40b), study leads to action.

As much as we can hope to always be on guard, we all know that we will, at times, fail to do so.  Our tradition has always accepted this, going so far as to teach that teshuvah, return or repentance,  preceded creation.  As we begin this new school year and prepare for the High Holidays, the Sefat Emet’s teaching on this verse remind me of the words of Rav Abraham Isaac Kook (early 20th century Chief Rabbi of Mandatory Palestine), who described teshuvah as a return to one’s self, to the root of one’s soul.  Through the words of these teachers, we understand that we need not despair or fall into guilt over our failings.  When I miss the mark or fail to reach my own lofty goals, I can return to myself and to the root of my soul; I can reevaluate my goals and move forward, acknowledging my progress in gratitude and free of guilt.

Weekly D’var: Shabbat Shuva

Weekly D’var: Shabbat Shuva

One of the primary themes throughout the past month of Elul and into this season of renewal, is the idea of teshuvah.  Teshuvah is one of those Jewish concepts that we talk about a lot and often assume we all understand.  We may have been told that, in order to merit atonement with Yom Kippur, we must “make” or “do” teshuvah.  We are encouraged to spend time looking back on the year, acknowledging where we have missed the mark and resolving to do better moving forward, and to make amends with those we have harmed.  But while we tend to hear about teshuvah most leading up to and throughout the High Holidays, it is a practice, and indeed a mindset, that we would do well to carry with us throughout the year.

Teshuvah is not simple.  It can be difficult to look upon our behaviours and the times that we may not have lived up to our values and ideals and hold ourselves accountable for those failings, possibly harder still to recognize where we might be heading down the wrong path in the moment and correct course.  Similarly, the word teshuvah itself is no easy thing to understand.

Many of us understand teshuvah to mean repentance, an understanding reinforced by some of our mahzorim or holiday prayerbooks.  There will be those who know that, at its root, the word translates as ‘turning’ or ‘return’; in fact, this Shabbat that falls in the midst of the Days of Awe, the High Holidays, is known in our tradition as Shabbat Shuvah, the Sabbath of Return.  Teshuvah does mean all of these things, both individually and simultaneously.  The layers of meaning in the word can help us to better understand its role in both the holidays and in our lives: in order to make some sort of repentance, we must turn away from certain behaviours and attitudes in order to make a return to our core values, in order to return to our true selves.

These are not the only ways to translate this important and enigmatic word.  There are so many shades of meaning in both the word itself and in the act of teshuvah that, each year, they can be found filling new sermons and articles and books, and here I am, offering yet another.

For me, what has become an important and powerful way to understand teshuvah, the way that I am able to carry it with me and to make it a real part of my life, is held in another traditional understanding of the word, that of ‘response’.  In Jewish legal matters a teshuvah is a response to a question.  Thinking of it in this way, when I look back on my behaviour, when I find myself reacting in a given situation, I can ask myself how I can respond differently and return to my true self.

These holidays are laden with rules and rituals, with expectation and obligation, but at their core, like so much of our tradition, they are calling on us to connect—to connect with ourselves, with our community and our tradition, and, of course, to connect with the divine.  How will we respond?

Shabbat Shalom.  G’mar hatima tova!

Rabbi Danny A Lutz,
Senior Jewish Educator, Guelph Hillel

Rosh Hashanah 5783 Day II – Beth Israel Sermon

Rosh Hashanah 5783 Day II – Beth Israel Sermon


בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה, יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ, מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶּה.

Blessed are You, HaShem our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.

When I was thinking about what I would talk to you all about today, one thing I kept coming back to was a sense of both familiarity but also of “newness”.

These feelings permeate everything at this time of year in general… Rosh Hashanah always feels both familiar and new. Who knows what the year will bring? Yet the same melodies each year remind us that we’ve been here before.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realised… that this year in particular I’m seeing familiarity and also newness everywhere I turn.

Each time I set foot in this building I feel the sense of familiarity and also newness and I’m sure many of you do too. Familiarity because I was privileged to grow up in a wonderful community in London that inspired much of my initial commitment to my Jewish practice and while Beth Israel is not that shul, it exudes the same values that have made both this shul and that shul second homes to me.

More familiarity and newness.

I’m moving into a new house next week! So that’s new! But it’s literally next door… and that’s familiar!

I don’t know about you but I’m still getting used to being fully in person again. My work as the Hillel Director in Kingston is similar to that which I did prior to the pandemic but it is also new and different. I’m sure many of you feel as I do… we must get used to the fact that some things simply will never go back to how they were before.

One area of my work that I encounter more frequently than I would like is something that will be familiar to us all but never fails to feel like a brand new punch in the gut.

The late Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom, Lord Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, famously described Antisemitism as being like a virus. It’s “how it has survived for so long”, he said, “by mutating”.

So in the Middle Ages, Jews were persecuted because of our religion. In the 19th and 20th centuries we were reviled because of our supposed racial identity. Today, Jews are attacked because of the existence of our nation state, Israel. And denying Israel’s right to exist is undoubtedly a new antisemitism.

And just as antisemitism has mutated, so has its legitimisation. Each time, as the persecution descended into barbarity, the persecutors reached for the highest form of justification available.

In the Middle Ages, it was religion. In post-Enlightenment Europe it was science: the so called scientific study of race and this is still where we see the most violent forms of antisemitism on the right coming from.

Today’s day and age has given us the emergence of a new antisemitism from the far left, where the politics of inclusion are perniciously inverted to intentionally exclude Jews.

The noted academic and current US Special Envoy for Countering Antisemitism, Deborah Lipstadt said in her book “Denial: Holocaust History on Trial” that “in an Internet age it is, at first glance, democratic to say that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. That is surely true. It is however a fatal step to then claim that all opinions are equal. Some opinions are backed by fact. Others are not. And those which are not backed by fact are worth considerably less than those which are.”

On campus it’s probably fair to say that I work at one of the coal fires of antisemitism. In the past few years, at Queen’s, we’ve seen white-supremacist graffiti including swastikas daubed on campus and also repeatedly seen groups on campus wade into middle eastern politics in ways that clearly cross the line into antisemitism.

But while Antisemitism is coming at us from both the extreme right and left, it is that from the extreme left which is routinely excused, ignored and justified by those who claim to value equity. And this seems to happen time and time again… especially on campus.

Now it’s always important for me to note that we are lucky at Queen’s. But for a few rare though particularly egregious examples, compared to some other campuses in Canada and around the world, we have it pretty good, most of the time.

Of course the real reason that antisemitism, in particular, on campus concerns us so greatly is because we generally understand campus to be a microcosm of wider society. A university is meant to be a true melting pot, bringing the best and brightest together to think deeply, learn and raise the collective consciousness of humanity; where we’re supposed to learn the things we need to create the lives we want for ourselves. The conversations that happen on campus often feel like a litmus test for where society is headed.

And if the best and brightest can’t seem to get a handle of the rampant Jew-hatred that seems to be everywhere right now in the academy… how can we expect the rest of the world to understand it?

What I want to talk about today is how I’m approaching this challenge, as a Hillel professional,,, and maybe this will be helpful in your own thinking as well…

One of the first questions Jewish students ask us when they encounter Hillel is “what is ‘Hillel’? what does the word mean?”. Hillel bears the name of the noted talmudist, Hillel the Elder, who lived approximately 2000 years ago in both Babylon and Eretz Yisrael. Hillel was noted for his maxims and proverbs that still inspire us to this day.

One of his most famous sayings was:

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me?
And if I am only for myself alone, what am I?
And if not now, when?”
― Hillel the Elder

I view this quote, which comes from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Ancestors) Chapter 1, as the imperative of our time. Here we have Hillel providing us a blueprint for the continued strength of the Jewish people. A simple roadmap for how we can ensure our continued perseverance in the face of those who would seek to harm us. The whole quote can really be summed up in three principles:

Pride. Accompliceship. Action.

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me?”


Rav Kook, the first chief rabbi of mandatory Palestine, used to say “For the Eternal People, it’s never a long journey, and the important thing is not to be afraid!” We are the inheritors of 3500 years of Jewish memory. Our people have faced down hate, discrimination, displacement, expulsion, genocide and so much more. Every single person who is Jewish today, is Jewish either because someone who came before them made the decision to live, or they themselves chose to be Jewish and to live a proud Jewish life. To say no to assimilation. To proclaim “Am Yisrael Chai”!

If we are not the loudest champions of our rights, who can we expect to stand up for us?! The first principle we focus on is the amplification of Jewish pride. Just last week Queen’s Hillel held Jewish Experience Week (JEW) on campus. A campaign all about sharing how incredible the Jewish community is at Queen’s and beyond. These sorts of initiatives are designed to help Jewish students feel more comfortable expressing their Jewishness publicly. One of the results of antisemitism is that we often seek to conceal ourselves and hide ourselves away for protection. I strongly believe that this is the wrong approach. It’s time to turn up the volume on Jewish life… to be loud AND proud about our Jewishness in the public square!

“And if I am only for myself, what am I?”


Antisemitism doesn’t exist in a vacuum and those who discriminate against one group rarely limit themselves to that one group.

We need accomplices to work with us to fight antisemitism and we need to partner with others. Relational Advocacy is a model of activism pioneered by The David Project – which eventually morphed into Hillel International’s Israel Action Center, which has now become the Hillel U Center for Community Outreach.

Relational Advocacy empowers student leaders to build mutually beneficial and enduring partnerships with diverse organisations so that the Jewish community is integrated and valued on campus. Much of the decisions made on campuses that affect the Jewish community take place within the democratic structures of student government and due to the current campus climate it is impossible for Jewish advocacy to happen successfully without allies.

When we build broad coalitions with student government, clubs and communities, we are better positioned to respond when the wellbeing of Jewish students is threatened on campus.

Being an ally is considered one of the first steps in equity and social justice work. The term ‘accomplice’ encompasses allyship but goes beyond advocacy. An accomplice uses their privilege to challenge existing conditions at the risk of their own comfort and well-being. This is why we at Hillel cultivate relationships with student leaders on campus who can become both allies and accomplices to the fight against antisemitism.

The same principle applies beyond campus. Living in Kingston I imagine many of us have predominantly non-Jewish social networks. How many of us have actually spoken to our non-Jewish friends about the alarming rise in Antisemitism?

“And if not now, when?”


And if you haven’t spoken about this issue publicly before… maybe it’s time to?

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Antisemitism has always been a problem, that’s why it’s familiar remember! But it also consistently re-invents itself… the newness!

Now is the time for us to stand up and act. We may think it can’t get much worse but history has shown us time and time again that temporary comfort doesn’t guarantee safety in the long run. It is up to us. We can’t wait. The risk is too great for us not to!

At Rosh Hashanah we have an annual opportunity for new beginnings. It’s a time for growth, reflection and fresh starts.

Our sages teach us that we live in a broken world and this is one reason why Judaism is far more concerned with this world than the next. We don’t know what the world to come will be like but we do know how we experience this one.

The principle of Tikun Olam – healing the world – is one that all of us are obligated to. Each of us doing our own bit to bring the fractured pieces of the world back together to form a new, beautiful mosaic.

May we all merit to experience only good things this year.
May we have the courage to have pride in our identities.
May we have the humility to both know when to ask for help and to show up for others when they need us.
And may we have the strength to persevere, even when the task seems great.

Rabbi Tarfon “You are not expected to complete the task, but neither are you free to avoid it.”
הוּא הָיָה אוֹמֵר, לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר, וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה

Wishing you all L’Shana Tova u’Metukah, a happy and sweet new year!

Watch the full congregation livestream here


Yos Tarshish
Director, Queen’s Hillel