Mic Drop

July 17, 2026/3 Av 5786/Shabbat Devarim/Shabbat Chazon

Hevre/Friends,

Ever notice how eloquent you are in the shower? You finally have it out with your boss/spouse/child/friend and say what you've been wanting to say for so long: a perfectly balanced, articulate, reasoned presentation of your feelings and your perspective. Except they're not there to hear it. It's amazing how gifted and confident we all are as orators.

When it matters least.

Our ancient ancestors were no different. The fifth and final book of the Torah opens this Shabbat with Parashat Devarim, Moshe's book-length farewell address to the people before he dies on the eastern bank of the Jordan and they cross into the land under Joshua's leadership.

אֵ֣לֶּה הַדְּבָרִ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֨ר דִּבֶּ֤ר מֹשֶׁה֙ אֶל־כּל־יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל בְּעֵ֖בֶר הַיַּרְדֵּ֑ן These are the words that Moses addressed to all Israel on the other side of

the Jordan.

Why the emphasis on all Israel? Rashi explains that had anyone missed the speech, especially its harsher tones of rebuke for the people's sins and failures, they might have said to their fellow Israelites, "Why didn't you answer Moses back? Had I been there, I would have challenged him! I would have said…!!"

Easy to say when you raise your voice in your head. Much harder when you show up and actually take the mic. But here is our reality: whether you want to show up or not, you are there. We all are.

Name your “gathering.” The House vote on ending military aid to Israel, where nearly half of House Democrats, including some of the party's most senior figures, approved the measure. The Knesset's passage of a law, frozen within a day by the High Court, shielding Haredi draft evaders from arrest, another neutering the powers of the Attorney General as a check on the government, and another expanding gender segregation in academia while Bnei Brak institutes separate sidewalks for me and women. The resurgence of war against Iran. The killing of two men, in Texas and Maine, by ICE agents. The apocalyptic orange haze of wildfire smoke choking cities from Montreal and Toronto to Boston and New York.

No matter how many headlines you read in your kitchen over coffee or on the subway during your commute. No matter how many pundits you listen to while driving to the grocery store, or while walking around your neighbourhood, as they opine from some far-away studio. No matter how alone you believe yourself to be as you deliver your well-crafted retorts to no one. You are there. We all are.

The events unfolding around us - and the endless array of urgent, demanding questions they raise - belong to all of us, whether we want them or not. It's our Israel. Our Middle East. Our Congress. Our immigration issue. Our streets. Our planet. No one is going to invite us into these spaces; we're already standing in them. None of us has the luxury of debating them only in the privacy, and yes, the safety, of our own imaginations. It is our fate on the line as much as anyone else's. And whether you whisper your opinions under the covers or shout them from the rooftops, people are listening. To your words, and just as closely to your silence.

Write your elected officials. Show up at the voting booth. Support those fighting for a democratic Israel. Fund those combatting antisemitism. Demand fair and compassionate immigration reform. Embrace clean and sustainable energy. Educate your children and grandchildren to be proud Jews and Zionists.

Enough rehearsals. This performance is live. Speak up before the curtain comes down.

Shabbat Shalom,

Dini