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Whosoever Keeps This Promise, They Shall Be Worthy 

Rabbi Eric Mollo

Parshat B'har-B'chukotai

The great Maya Angelou once wrote, “we are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.” But are we? Are our similarities strong enough to bridge the distance we often feel from our fellow man? On a genetic level, the answer is undoubtedly ‘yes.’ But what about socially, culturally, spiritually, ethically, politically? The differences between us in these aspects of our lives are hardly negligible. Our differences define us, and our stubborn aversion to change is stunting us. 

 We are living in an age of silos that are carefully crafted and fiercely defended. We sort ourselves into communities of agreement, surround ourselves with familiar voices that reinforce the comfortable boundaries that separate us from those who think, live, or believe differently. We go so far as to separate ourselves from those we perceive to be different from us, even though the reality of those differences may be negligible. What began as identity becomes isolation and alienation. What began as perspective becomes echo. We don’t talk to each other anymore, or, more precisely, we no longer know how. There are those who are trying to change that reality, who are working to reopen channels of conversation and rebuild a shared understanding of the other. However, in an era when communication has never been more accessible, we always seem to choose what is most familiar over what is most necessary. We double down on what we already think we know. We retreat into spaces where we are affirmed rather than challenged, and the cost of that retreat is much higher than we might think. Miscommunication and misunderstanding turn arguments into fights, and conflicts too quickly become wars.

 It is against this backdrop that the last Torah portion in the book of Leviticus, B’harB’chukotai, creates an urgency regarding the idea of worthiness. In this case, worthiness means whether we have cultivated the capacity to live together without devolving into animals. At Sinai, the instructions are given, the vision is articulated, the covenant is established, but the Israelites did not suddenly move from the moment at the mountain to the fulfillment of God’s promise. Instead, the Israelites had to first take a necessary detour into the wilderness so that the teachings they received could be internalized and tested.

B’har imagines a society that resists the natural impulse to accumulate without limit. There is an insistence on rest, on release, and the periodic rebalancing of power and resources. B’chukotai presents reward and punishment as the natural outgrowth of alignment and misalignment. A society that lives its values creates stability, dignity, and the chance to thrive. Read together, these portions function as a kind of threshold that places us between where we currently find ourselves, and where we see ourselves heading if we can implement the boundaries, the habits, and the kind of dispositions that can sustain the vision of “Beloved Community” we hope to pass along to future generations. 

Today, humankind seems caught up in a liminal moment. We have inherited extraordinary tools for connection, and yet we struggle to use them in ways that build rather than erode. We have articulated visions of justice, of community, of shared humanity, and yet we often lack the will to see them to fruition when confronted with difference. Like the ancient Israelites, so many of us yearn for the destinations we long to reach, the stronger communities, more just societies, and a future that feels worthy of ourselves, let alone our children. 

The Torah’s message is both challenging and hopeful. The promised destination is not withheld because it is beyond our reach. It is merely delayed because we are still becoming the kind of people who will be able to sustain it. Leviticus, in this light, is the insistence that freedom without responsibility will fail, that vision without vigilance will dissipate, and that a people divided against itself cannot carry forward a shared promise. The promise that lies ahead, whatever form it takes in our own time, will not be realized by those who simply long for it. It will be realized by those who are worthy of it.

Eric Mollo is the Associate Rabbi at Main Line Reform Temple Beth Elohim in Wynnewood. He is the co-chair of RAC-PA, the Pennsylvania branch of the Religious Action center of Reform Judaism based in Washington D.C., Treasurer for the Greater Philadelphia Board of Rabbis, and serves on the Religious Leaders Council of Greater Philadelphia.