Beha’alotecha, feels deeply personal to me. Not just because of what it says
about leadership, but because of what’s happening in the world right now. And
because of who I am: a proud Jew with Iranian roots.
In the Torah, Moses is exhausted. The people are complaining, confused, and nostalgic
for the past, even if that past was Egypt, a place of slavery. They want
comfort, they want simplicity, and they want it now. And Moses — human like the
rest of us — reaches his breaking point. He turns to God and says, “I can’t do
this alone.”
What does God do? God doesn’t punish Moses for being tired. Instead, God gives
him help: seventy elders to carry the burden with him.
Because
true leadership isn’t about carrying it all—it’s about knowing when to ask for
help and when to make hard, sometimes painful, choices for the greater good.
When I look at the world today, especially the pain between Iran and Israel, I
feel that burden too. I feel the heartbreak.
Iran’s government continues to threaten the people of Israel, openly,
aggressively, with weapons, rhetoric, and support for violence.
But
what hurts most is knowing that this same regime is also hurting its own
people. The beautiful country my family comes from, the rich culture and the
warmth of the Iranian people has been overshadowed by fear, repression, and
cruelty. Women are beaten for speaking up. Young people are jailed for wanting
freedom. Families live with fear in their own homes.
As an Iranian Jew, I feel torn. I know the beauty of both worlds, and I also
see the pain of both.
So I come back to Moses.
Leadership is not about popularity. It’s not about being liked. It’s about
doing what’s right, even when it breaks your heart. Even when it means standing
against people close to you, or sometimes standing with people who may not
always understand you, for the sake of justice and peace.
I stand with Israel, now more than ever. I believe that Israel, despite the
pain and complexity of the moment, is standing up not only for itself, but for
the values of freedom, truth, and human dignity. Its actions are not only about
survival, it is also about safeguarding the future of humanity against forces
that glorify destruction.
Standing with Israel doesn’t mean celebrating war, it means standing with Am
Israel who have survived exile, terror, and hatred, and still choose to build,
to innovate, and to seek peace.
I
believe Israel’s strength, resilience, and moral clarity will ripple out to
protect and elevate others, too.
So what does this parashah ask of us? It asks us to lead with courage, even when it’s painful. To care about justice
even when it’s unpopular. To light the flame and hold it long enough for others
to rise with it.
Let us be brave enough to speak for what’s right. Gentle enough to feel the
pain of others. And strong enough to carry the flame until it rises on its own.
I pray for the freedom of the people of Iran and the safety of the people of Israel and the
IDF.
AND NOW more than ever, Am Yisrael Chai.