Changing the Theory, Not the Facts: Yitro 5786

This piece was first published in the Hanassi Highlights, Thursday 5 February 2026. You can also read it in Hebrew, via AI, by clicking here.

At first glance, Parshat Yitro can feel like a collection of unrelated episodes. The arrival of Yitro, an administrative restructuring, and the thunderous revelation at Har Sinai do not obviously belong together. Yet when we look more carefully, a unifying thread emerges—one that speaks powerfully to human growth, leadership, and faith.

There is a quote attributed to Albert Einstein: “When the facts don’t fit the theory, change the facts.” This line captures a very human tendency: to protect our assumptions even when reality challenges them. Parshat Yitro presents the opposite model. Three times in this parsha, we encounter individuals or a nation willing to revise their “theory” in the face of compelling truth.

The first is Yitro himself. The Torah tells us that Yitro heard, and he came. Chazal describe Yitro as someone who had worshipped every form of idolatry known to the ancient world. He was not ignorant, naive, or sheltered; on the contrary, he was experienced and worldly. And yet, when he heard what had happened to Bnei Yisrael—the Exodus, the miracles, the survival against impossible odds—he  did not explain it away. He listened, he processed, and he changed. In a world where most people doubled down on their beliefs (much like our world today), Yitro was willing to say: I was wrong.

The second example is Moshe Rabbeinu. Yitro observes Moshe judging the people alone, from morning until night, and offers unsolicited advice: this is unsustainable. Moshe could easily have rejected the suggestion of the outsider. Yet instead, the Torah emphasizes that Moshe did everything Yitro suggested. For the greatest leader and prophet in history to accept guidance from an outsider is not a small detail—it is a profound statement about humility and openness. True leadership is not threatened by new perspectives; it is strengthened by them.

The third, and most dramatic, transformation is that of Bnei Yisrael at Ma’amad Har Sinai. We often forget just how revolutionary this moment was. In the ancient world, gods were visible, tangible, and embodied—statues, images, faces carved into stone and metal. To worship an invisible God, with no physical representation, was not only new; it was deeply counterintuitive. It is small wonder that throughout Tanach, the struggle against avodah zarah continues incessantly. Seen in this light, the commandment immediately following the revelation at Sinai—“Do not make with Me gods of silver or gods of gold”—is not incidental. It is a deliberate reinforcement of a radically new way of relating to God.

Parshat Yitro challenges us to ask ourselves: where might we be clinging to old patterns, assumptions or habits that no longer reflect the truth we know? Do we change the facts to fit our theories, or do we have the courage to revise the theory itself?

May we learn from these examples: to listen honestly, to remain open, and to live our lives guided not by inertia or convenience, but by what is right and true.

Shabbat Shalom!