The Good, the Bad, and the Better: Parashat Ki Tavo. Kol Shalom, 2025

This week’s Parashah begins with Ki Tavo el ha’aretz, which means “when you come into the land,” and it deals with the laws and norms that Moses reviews for the Israelites. The Israelites, of course, will be entering the land of Israel without him.

These laws are very diverse, but it seems to me they share a common theme, which is, “trying to do things the best one can”. They are about living life in the best possible way, giving the best of oneself, and making the choices that support the life you want for yourself, your family and your community.

The first of these laws is the Mitzvah of Bikurim—the first fruits. Everyone, regardless of wealth or social status, was to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem with a basket filled with the first fruits of the land. There they would join the community celebration and offer gratitude for the gifts with which they had been blessed.

In our world, where we never seem to be satisfied and are always wanting more, gratitude is one of the least appreciated values. Ben Zoma clearly understood this when he asked in Pirke Avot: “Who is rich?” and then answered: “The one who is happy with his lot.”

It is interesting that the ritual in Jerusalem also included a recounting of the history and origins of the people, with the phrase we include in the Passover Haggadah: Arami oved avi—“My father was a wandering Aramean.” Recognizing our humble origins seems an important precaution against falling into the trap of believing that abundance and consumerism are, in themselves, the path to happiness. On the contrary, many of our worries about things and possessions actually distance us from a fulfilling and happy life.

The Mitzvah of Bikurim, bringing the first fruits, also emphasizes the power of sharing ritual with community, reminding us that we are dependent upon each other and need to value others, the antithesis of the rather ego-centric culture of today.

This Mitzvah of Bikurim also makes me think about the troubling phenomenon in our world of having almost infinite options: the choice between the good and the best. How do we avoid falling into complacency, and at the same time, how do we avoid living under constant pressure to surpass ourselves, jumping from one goal to the next without enjoying the journey?

The Parashah also teaches a series of laws regarding social justice. The tithes and agricultural laws prevented the less fortunate members of society from being marginalized or ignored. The Torah very clearly teaches that we must all take care of those less fortunate: their problems are everyone’s problems. The words, Lo tuchal lehit’aleim—"you must not ignore these injustices.” are repeated over and over.

It is no coincidence that our people developed a special sensitivity and a strong response of solidarity toward those in need. Tzedakah and the laws of Gemilut Chasadim teach us, since ancient times, from the Prophets of Israel to the Rabbis of the Talmud, that caring for the less fortunate is everyone’s responsibility.

Toward the end of the Parashah, the Torah confronts us once again with absolute dichotomies. The section on “Blessings and Curses” warns us against absolute relativism. There are decisions that are fundamental, where we must choose between two completely opposite paths. These binary decisions concern life and death, where apologetic contexts fade into meaningless absurdity.

It is as if we are brought back to the most basic reality: before choosing between the good and the best, we must rule out what is clearly a matter of “life and death.”

Personally, whenever we reach Ki Tavo, I find myself in the midst of my own spiritual accounting and preparation for the Yamim Noraim. Tonight, is the Selichot service, which is somewhat of an overture to the opera that is about to begin in just a few days.

I find that this Parashah brings several important Jewish values into focus as I prepare for the Awesome days ahead. Ki Tavo makes me reflect on the essential binary choices between good and bad, as well as on the ones that follow, between “the good and the best”.

I find myself thinking about my own life and the importance of family, community, and the people to which I belong.

And I reflect about the suffering in our world and the injustices so many people endure. I recognize that I—and each one of us—need to put some of our best fruits into a basket and share it with others. While we strive to choose well, we must always remember to express our gratitude.

The time for balance and reflection begins now—the work of repentance and forgiveness is ahead.

May God grant us strength, wisdom, and sensitivity to take on the task of redirecting our lives toward the Promised Land we all desire.