This Shabbat, as we read Bamidbar, I invite us to pause and look around at our own community with the eyes of chacham ha-razim. Can we see beyond the surface to recognize the unique stories, struggles, and gifts of each person around us? Can we cherish the differences that strengthen the whole?

There is something profoundly humbling about pausing before a meal to say a blessing. Whether seated at a Shabbat table or unwrapping a snack on a busy afternoon, the simple words “Baruch atah… borei p’ri ha’adamah” remind us that what we consume is not simply the work of our own hands, but part of a sacred partnership with the earth and with God.

This week’s parshah, Emor, invites us to reflect on the power of sacred time and sacred action. When days blur together and we often rush from task to task, Emor reminds us that time is not just something we pass through — it’s something we can elevate.

Judaism doesn’t just bless love—it blesses committed, ethical, sacred love. This week, take time to reflect on the relationships in your life—romantic, familial, communal. Consider how you might bring more intentionality to the way you show love, build trust, and uphold sacred commitments. Holiness isn’t only about what we avoid—it’s about what we build.

What if we treated our words and our health as equally sacred? What if we offered gratitude not only for physical healing, but for the chance to speak kindly, to start fresh, to repair what was broken? In doing so, we echo both Birkat HaGomel and Baruch She’amar—giving thanks for survival, and honoring the creative holiness within every word.

At this moment in time, when we’re bombarded daily with competing narratives, when justice and truth both feel elusive, we must embrace the responsibility of discernment. Let us commit to seeking clarity in our decisions, ensuring that our actions reflect holiness and integrity. May we use the skill and blessing of discernment wisely, for the betterment of ourselves and the world around us.

There are the “fires” of hatred and division, but also the fires that can ignite hope—a candle in a dark place, a flame passed from one generation to the next, a community rallying to rebuild.