Through the lens of history, some images become more than photographs — they become turning points. The paratroopers gazing up at the Kotel in 1967. Rav Goren blowing the shofar. These were not just moments — they became part of our national soul.
And now, as we live through a defining chapter in our own
history, we find ourselves asking: what image will capture this moment?
Perhaps it may not come from the battlefield. It may just
come from the airport. This week, a photograph was published of a woman who,
upon landing in Israel, knelt to kiss the ground. Her act, so quiet and
personal, says more than a thousand words. To much of the world, returning to a
war zone makes no sense. But we — the Jewish people — understand. This is not
recklessness. It is teshuva. It is a return of the heart.
As rockets fall and sirens sound, thousands of Israelis
abroad are doing everything they can to come home. And what we are witnessing
is not just a logistical operation — it is a spiritual movement, a national teshuva
unfolding before our very eyes.
The Sin of the Spies: A Threefold Failure
This week’s parsha, Shelach, recounts one of the most
devastating episodes in the Torah: the sin of the spies. Sent to scout the
land, they returned not with lies, but with fear. They acknowledged the land’s
beauty — but saw only its threats. “We cannot ascend,” they said. “The
people are stronger than us.”
The sin was layered — and each layer cut deep:
- Against
the Land: They slandered Eretz Yisrael, calling it “a land that
devours its inhabitants.”
- Against
the People: Their report demoralized the nation, spreading fear and
despair.
- Against
God: Most profoundly, they doubted Hashem’s promise, acting as though
He could not fulfill it.
The result was national paralysis. Hashem decreed that the
generation who rejected the land would not enter it.
Teshuva Done Wrong
The next day, a group known as the ma’apilim tried to
undo the damage. “We will go up!” they declared, ready to fight. But it
was too late. They acted without Hashem’s guidance and were defeated. The
lesson is clear: teshuva must come with humility, not just urgency.
Our Generation’s Response
Today, we are blessed to witness something altogether
different — a slow, sincere tikkun of that ancient sin. And remarkably,
it addresses all three of its dimensions:
1. Love for the Land
While the spies recoiled, today Jews across the globe are
embracing Eretz Yisrael. Even amidst rockets and fear, rescue flights are full.
People are desperate to return. The photo of a woman kissing the ground of
Israel was not staged — it was instinctive. The Rambam writes that the Sages
would kiss the dust of the land, fulfilling the verse, “For Your servants
cherished her stones and loved her dust.” What was once rejected is now
held close.
2. Unity of the People
The spies’ words broke the spirit of the nation. But today,
we see remarkable unity. After Simchat Torah and again during Operation Rising
Lion, Israelis across all divides stood as one. Political rivals speak with
mutual support. One opposition leader said it best: “Today, in this war,
there is no right and left — only right and wrong.”
3. Rekindling of Faith
The deepest sin was spiritual. The spies questioned God’s protection. And in the aftermath of October 7, many asked: Where was God? Yet what followed was not spiritual collapse, but renewal. Faith and prayer have reentered the public sphere — from soldiers, from leaders, from returned hostages. Just hours before Israel’s pre-emptive strike on Iran, the Prime Minister was photographed at the Kotel, wrapped in a tallit, placing a handwritten verse inside the stones:
הֶן־עָם כְּלָבִיא יָקוּם וְכַאֲרִי יִתְנַשָּׂא — “Behold, a people that rises like a lioness and lifts itself like a lion.”
The Power of This Moment
The Rambam writes that the highest form of teshuva (teshuva
gemura) occurs when a person is faced with the same challenge and chooses
to act differently. As a nation, we find ourselves in a great moment of teshuva
gemura. The fear is still here. The threats are real. And yet, we choose to
return. We choose to stay. We choose to believe.
Parshat Shelach is more than a story of failure — it is a
challenge to future generations. Will we learn from the past? Will we respond
with faith instead of fear?
This Shabbat, our tefillot continue — even in limited
numbers. And while we may not all be gathered together in shul, we remain
deeply united in spirit and in purpose.
May we merit to continue this process of teshuva, and
to write a new chapter — of love for our land, of unity among our people, and
of renewed faith in Hashem.
Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Joel Kenigsberg