Holding the Tension in a Sacred Land

As we enter the twin Torah portions of Behar and Bechukotai, we are invited into a spiritual paradox—one that mirrors the tensions of our time.

Behar speaks of a land that must rest, of debts released and slaves freed, of a society built not on ownership but on divine stewardship. We are told: the land is not yours. It is God’s. And your legitimacy in it depends on how you treat it, and one another.

Bechukotai follows with a stark reminder: blessings flow from walking in God’s statutes. But stray from the path, and consequences follow. Scarcity, fear, exile. And yet—God’s voice does not end in rebuke. It ends in love:

“But even then, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not reject them… for I am the Lord their God.”

These parshiot form the spiritual backbone of the Jewish people’s relationship to the Land of Israel: a conditional privilege wrapped in unconditional love.

The Land Is Holy — But Are We Acting Holy Within It?

This week, the sacred teachings of Behar-Bechukotai collided vividly with Israel’s current events, forcing us to ask not just what is holy but also who we make room for in our vision of holiness.

The Land is holy, yes—but are we building a society worthy of that holiness?

Let’s consider the extraordinary spectrum of Israel’s public face this week:

• Yuval Rafael, a survivor of the Nova music festival massacre on October 7th, stood tall and proud on the Eurovision stage, representing Israel. Against a tide of venomous protests, disqualification threats, and political bans from Spain, she sang with voice and courage. Despite it all, she came second. And she won the popular vote.
  In a world where media narratives are weaponised, where silent majorities are cowed by state-sponsored slander, blood libels, and radical Islamist fear, her voice broke through. Her presence wasn’t just a performance—it was a quiet roar of resilience. A testament to the enduring spirit of Am Yisrael.
• At the same time, in the Knesset, Amir Ohana continues to serve as Israel’s first openly gay Speaker of Parliament. His role symbolises the complicated beauty of Israel’s democratic identity—a nation that, even while rooted in Torah, does not silence those who live or believe differently.

And yet, a leading  Rabbi publicly condemned the religious MKs who supported Ohana’s appointment. He called it a “desecration.” His words struck deep, not just because of their sharpness, but because they echoed a larger question:

Can a modern Jewish state hold space for both Torah fidelity and democratic diversity?

It’s a question we must answer not in theory, but in lived relationships.

A Moment on a Plane: Torah, Song, and the Human Soul

Last year, that question found its answer—not in headlines, but in the quiet of an aeroplane cabin.

Rabbi Yosef Zvi Rimon, a deeply respected halachic authority, found himself seated near Golan Eden,  Israel’s 2024 Eurovision performer and a visibly non-observant, expressive artist.

They spoke, not with tension, but with tenderness.

Golan, surprised by the rabbi’s kindness and curiosity, shared that she expected judgment. Instead, she received a blessing. And Rabbi Rimon? He later described the encounter as deeply moving, saying it was a moment of “meeting another neshama (soul).”

There was no theological debate. No demand for conformity.
Just two Jews—on the same plane, in the same nation—recognising the divine in each other.

So Let’s Dive a Little Deeper

Holiness is not about agreeing on everything.
It’s not about erasing difference.
It’s about learning to honour the divine image in others—even when they challenge us.

Israel’s diversity is not its flaw. It is its strength.
A nation that holds Yuval’s music, Ohana’s leadership, a Rabbi’s rebuke, Rabbi Rimon’s compassion, and the protesters’ confusion—and still calls itself one people.

That is not weakness. That is covenantal complexity. That is real holiness.

So the question Behar and Bechukotai leave us with is not simply: Are we obeying the laws?
It’s this:

Are we building a land that reflects the God Who walks among us?

And sometimes, that means saying—like the wise man once told me—“It’s not a chillul Hashem or a kiddush Hashem. It’s what is needed at this time.

But perhaps this tension is not a threat—it’s a feature. The Jewish return to sovereignty was never going to be neat. It was always going to be a messy, passionate, glorious wrestling match between ancient truths and modern realities.

Tensions, Radicalism, and the Challenge of Holding It All

Let’s be honest: we are living in an era of radical voices and religious absolutism. Lines are drawn sharply. Social media rewards extremism. And the result is a society tearing itself apart from within.

So, how do we hold it all?

How do we honour the Torah and human dignity?
How do we welcome all Jews into the story, without abandoning core values?
How do we live in a land that is holy when its people are fractured?

We start by remembering who we are:

We are the children of Avraham, who argued with God.
We are the students of the Talmud, which preserved every opinion, even those not followed.
We are the heirs of prophets and sages, who taught that truth and kindness must kiss, and justice must roll like waters.

The Torah was never afraid of tension. In fact, it lives in it.
And so must we.

The New Idolatry: Worship of One-Sided “Truth’ or “Lies”

Today’s spiritual threat isn’t secularism. It’s certitude without knowledge. It’s certitude blinded by hate, or anti-Semitism, or siding with evil.

(The meaning of Certitude: absolute certainty or conviction that something is the case)

It is when anyone on social media expresses hateful or untrue views or posts.
It’s when Religion becomes a weapon, not a light.
It’s when compassion is seen as weakness, and nuance is treated as betrayal.

We’ve created new idols:
Political loyalty. Party affiliation. Religious stringency and extremism. Free Palestine.
And we’ve begun worshipping them at the expense of each other.

That is not the covenant. That is not Israel. That is not us.

Israel’s Legitimacy: Not Just Borders, But Purpose

The world debates our right to the land and our right to defend ourselves. Are we acting compassionately in War, as expected by our ethical standards,  history and roots?

But Torah frames the question differently:

It is not whether we have a right to the land, but whether we are ready to be worthy of it.

That’s what Behar is about.
That’s what Bechukotai warns us of.
That’s what modern Israel must wrestle with.

Our legitimacy is not only in the Balfour Declaration or UN resolutions.

It’s in how we treat our neighbour. It’s how we treat our enemies. How do we hold the stranger? How we argue with dignity.

How we honour the Image of God—even in those who challenge our deepest beliefs.

In this, there are no easy choices – I invite you to read my blog I wrote earlier this:

When the World Turns on Israel: Moral Clarity in a Time of War

 https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/when-the-world-turns-on-israel-moral-clarity-in-a-time-of-war/

 A Covenant Bigger Than Any One Voice

Let us remember: no single rabbi, politician, or ideology owns the covenant.
The covenant belongs to the entire people of Israel.
Religious and secular, straight and gay, Ashkenazi, Mizrahi, Ethiopian, Russian, Arab, Haredi, and Hiloni.

All of us are threads in this ancient, divine tapestry.
And yes, we may pull in different directions. But the miracle is that we’re still woven together.

Conclusion: The Soul of Israel Lives in the Tension

Behar tells us the land is holy.
Bechukotai reminds us that our behaviour must be holy too.
Modern Israel shows us how hard, messy, and beautiful it is to live between them.

This is the test of sovereignty.
Not just surviving exile, but thriving in return.
Not just reclaiming land, but reclaiming purpose.
Not just having power, but using it with love.

If we can learn to argue without tearing, to stand firm without shaming, to lead without condemning, then we will be worthy of the blessing:

“I will walk among you. I will be your God. And you will be My people.”

That is the Soul of Israel.