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1) Ger v'Toshav - The Jew Who Stands at the Edge
Our chaver Judah Kerbel, writing for Tradition Online, points out something worth opening with. July 4, 1776 - the day the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence - was the 17th of Tammuz. The American republic and the Three Weeks share a birthday. This year, the 250th falls on Shabbos itself. Whatever observant Jews were in these colonies on that first July 4th were fasting, not celebrating. This year, we again stand just to the side of the national party - no driving to the fireworks, no music at the seudah. The very first July 4th and the 250th both find the Jew in the same place: present, loyal, and just slightly outside.
That is not a coincidence. It is a calling.
Avraham, negotiating for Me'aras HaMachpeilah, says: ger v'toshav anochi imachem - I am a stranger and a resident among you (Bereishis 23:4). Rav Soloveitchik famously read this not as a paradox to resolve but as a dialectic to inhabit permanently. As a toshav, Avraham dug wells, was loyal to the surrounding society's institutions, and participated fully in its civic life. As a ger, his deepest commitments remained rooted elsewhere. And crucially, Avraham says this not as a newcomer, but after decades of enormous success in the region. It would have been entirely natural at that point to simply be a toshav. He insists on ger anyway. The longer you are comfortable, the more deliberately you must hold that distinction.
See the Midrash (Eicha 1:3): “She settled among the nations; she did not find rest.” R. Yudan ben R. Nechemya said in the name of R. Shimon ben Lakish: Had she found rest, she would not have returned. Similarly, “the dove did not find rest” (Bereishis 8:9). Similarly, “among these nations you will not be calm, and there will be no rest for your foot” (Devarim 28:65).
The restlessness of exile was by design, lest Jews find true rest and lose the will to ever leave. The comfort of American Jewish life - genuinely something to celebrate - carries inside it a real spiritual risk. This Shabbos, by simply being Shabbos, makes the point without anyone needing to say a word.
Yirmiyahu is sent as a navi la'goyim (1:5), and in the same breath he is told: al tira mipneihem — do not be fearful of them - and given the image that defines his stance (and more and more, ours today): ir mivtzar v'amud barzel v'chomos nechoshes, a fortified city, an iron pillar, bronze walls (see 1:18). He speaks to the nations precisely because he refuses to become them. A Navi who dissolves into his audience has nothing left to say.
That is where the Jewish community in America stands today. Present, loyal, deeply engaged — and called to maintain the truths that are no longer popular, to express moral clarity that is only possible from someone who has never entirely arrived.
2) Lintosh uLivnos - Naming the Threat and Defending the Covenant
The Rambam tells us what fasts – and these three weeks – are for: l'orer es ha'levavos lifto'ach darchei ha'teshuvah - to arouse the heart and open paths of return (Hilchos Taanis 5:1). The verb is orer, awakening. It is not paralysis, nor despair. Mourning that does not end in a commitment to build differently has failed its own purpose.
The parshah resonates with individuals who insist on pushing forward. Pinchas doesn't despair of the nation. He defends it, vate'atzar hamagefah (25:8). Moshe, told he will not enter the Land, responds: yifkod Hashem Elokei ha'ruchos l'chol basar ish al ha'eidah (27:16). His own disappointment never touches his confidence in the edah's future; he is already planting the next generation's leadership. Then the bnos Tzlafchad, with every reason to despair of their future, walk directly into the institutional center: lifnei Moshe, lifnei Elazar, lifnei ha'nesi'im v'chol ha'eidah pesach Ohel Mo'ed (see 27:2) - and invoke the legal process. And it vindicates them: ken b'nos Tzlafchad dovros (27:7).
This is the chiluk between fear and determination that this historic Shabbos demands we make. John Podhoretz, in the most recent issue of Commentary, puts it plainly: the danger doesn't come from America - it comes from “some Americans, terrible Americans, relentless in their pursuit of power, from Tucker to Zoran.” And he adds a warning that hits close to home: the complacency of American Jews, unaware of the danger, places us in greater peril … We have been comfortable for so long that we are slow to recognize what is being aimed at us. But we continue to be defended by the rights granted to all Americans in the Constitution, first enunciated in the Declaration. That is the one thing those terrible people cannot take away from us.
Our country’s Ambassador to fight antisemitism, Rabbi Yehuda Kaploun, has made a related observation: the forces arrayed against Israel today are not a separate phenomenon from the broader assault on American democratic norms. They draw from the same source. What corrodes constitutional democracy, what attacks equal dignity under law, what generates antisemitism - it is all connected. Defending the Jewish community, advocating for Israel, and defending the American covenant are not three separate agendas. They are one.
Dr. Erica Brown recounts that in October 2017, Rav Sacks spoke at the American Enterprise Institute and drew a distinction worth carrying into this Shabbos. The social contract - the legal-constitutional framework - was holding. The social covenant underneath it - strong families, communities, a shared narrative of human dignity - was at risk. For Rav Sacks, America was not only a country; it was a concept. His plea was direct: "Don't lose the American covenant. It's the most precious thing you have. Renew it now before it's too late." Dr. Brown notes the irony: a British rabbi telling the heirs of the Revolution that they needed to do a better job guarding what the Revolution secured. But sometimes it takes the ger to see most clearly what the toshav has stopped noticing.
Yirmiyahu's commission captures exactly what this moment asks of us: lintosh v’lintotz, ul'ha'avid v'laharos, livnos v'linto'a - to uproot and pull down, to build and to plant (1:10). Four verbs of demolition, two of construction. But the four serve the two.
This July 4th is worth celebrating fully, with gratitude and with clarity about what is under threat. Lintosh - name what is wrong, specifically, without flinching. Ul'vnos - build, defend, renew. The constitutional framework is still there. Shoqed ani al d'vari la'asoto. We have work to do.
3) And for our non-American Chaverim: Individual Effort
“The consensus, it seems, is that one man by himself can do little, if anything, in the face of evil or injustice.” Pinchas, grandson of Aharon Hakohen, is celebrated for the individual effort that earned him a covenant of peace and eternal kehunah. Our former Executive Vice President, Rabbi Basil Herring, explores Pinchas’ example of acting as “one man, all alone … against a status quo that was led by a man of superior standing and authority.” We all wish for change in the world; Pinchas did something to bring it about. Full piece from The Jewish Imagination here.
(See a similar idea, with additional mareh mekomos from R. Ben Zion Firer’s Hegyonah shel Torah here.)
You can also connect a fascinating piece from Rav Hirsch zt”l on the connection between Pinchas and Eliyahu and always fighting for what’s right. Particularly now, it is our task, first and foremost, to do battle for our most sacred values, to muster the courage to make our convictions known, to isolate ourselves and, if need be, to remain isolated in our beliefs. We must nurture, at least within the small circles of our homes and families, a secure future for that righteousness and valor which we regard as everlasting and inalienable.
Full text from Collected Writings, here.
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