From Caution to Panic: The Lesson of the Spies (Devarim 5786)

This piece by Rabbi Kenigsberg was first published in Hanassi Highlights, Thursday 16 July 2026. Thanks to AI, you can also read it in Hebrew (click here).

Parshat Devarim retells many of the events recorded earlier in the Torah, yet often with subtle differences. Those differences are not accidental. They invite us to look more deeply and uncover a new dimension of the story.

One striking example is the episode of the spies. In Parshat Shelach, the emphasis falls squarely on the spies themselves and the disastrous report they bring back from the Land of Israel. The narrative already hints that something has gone wrong. Rashi explains that when God says "Shelach lecha" -- "Send for yourself" -- it is not a command but a concession. Moshe Rabbeinu even changes Yehoshua’s name, praying that he be saved from the counsel of the spies.

Yet when Moshe recounts the same events in Parshat Devarim, the focus shifts. He recalls that the people approached him with the request to send spies, and he concludes, "Vayitav be'einai hadavar" ("The matter seemed good in my eyes).

How can these two accounts be reconciled? Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky points to a single word in Rashi that changes the entire perspective. Describing the people's approach to Moshe, Rashi explains that they came be'irbuvya—in confusion and disorder. The young pushed past the old, the old pushed past the tribal leaders. There was no calm discussion, only urgency and panic.

The rebuke, Rav Kamenetsky explains, is not directed merely at the decision to send spies. Sending a reconnaissance mission before entering the Land could have been entirely reasonable. The problem was the atmosphere in which the request was made. Their panic revealed something deeper. They had lost perspective. They forgot where they stood, what God had already done for them, and what He had promised for the future. Their practical efforts no longer flowed from faith; they flowed from fear.

That distinction remains as relevant today as it was then. The Torah encourages responsibility, planning and prudent action. We make thoughtful decisions and prepare for the future. But there is a profound difference between taking sensible precautions and allowing fear to shape our outlook. The former is an expression of wisdom; the latter can gradually erode our sense of purpose and trust.

As we stand on the threshold of Tisha b'Av, we naturally reflect on the great national failures that brought about the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash. Yet the Torah reminds us that, long before the tragedy itself, there was a subtler failure: a nation that momentarily lost confidence in the path God had set before it. The spies were not the beginning of the story. They were the consequence of a people who had already begun to see the future through the lens of fear rather than faith.

Tisha b'Av calls upon us to mourn what was lost,  and also to remember the covenant that was never broken. Even in times of uncertainty, the Jewish people continue to walk forward sustained not only by careful planning but by the enduring confidence that the God who has guided our history in the past continues to guide it still.

Shabbat Shalom!

Am KeLavi - Rectifying the Sin of the Spies

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

The seductive sway of self-interest: Shelach Lecha 5784

This week’s parsha raises the age-old issue of human behavior: altruism versus personal interest. While we all pay lip service to the ideal of altruism when dealing with public affairs and the general good , we all remain human beings at heart and the Talmud long ago posited that “a human being is first and foremost closest and prejudiced in favor of one’s own self-interest".

 The conflict between the general good of the many and the private benefit of the few—or even of a single individual—is the stuff of politics, government, power and influence. Throughout history this it has been a core element in human existence. Our sense of rectitude and our consciences are constantly buffeted by self-interest and personal factors. We are born as selfish grasping individuals, and the challenges in life that follow all revolve about our ability to recognize and modify this basic human instinct.

 One may say that all the commandments of the Torah come to enable us to counter this primal instinct. This is what the rabbis meant when they taught us that the “evil instinct”—our innate selfishness—is with us from our first breath on this earth. The struggle to include others—family, community, fellow Jews and human beings generally—within our worldview is the story of our lives.

 The Torah recognizes Avraham’s victory in this struggle and it is he, above all others, who is seen as our father and role model, the founder of God’s people.

 One of the explanations offered by the commentators to the negative behavior and damning report regarding the Land of Israel is that the spies, who were the leaders of their tribes, were aware that, when the Jews entered the Land of Israel, new leaders were to be chosen and that they were at risk of losing their titles and positions of power and influence. This awareness preyed upon their minds and prejudiced their view of the Land of Israel.  

They valued their personal interests in a manner that overwhelmed their view of the general good of the people they were supposed to serve. This has always been a problem for communal leadership, when hubris and self-service dominate the sight of the leadership so that one is unable to distinguish between public good and private interest.

 Even worse, many times the private interest of the leader is disguised as the public good. Dictators have always stated that “I am the state!” The great prophet Shmuel is characterized in the same category as Moshe and Aharon because of his selflessness in leading the Jewish people. The tragedy of the spies, and of the Jewish people of that generation generally, is this inability to rise over personal interests and view the general picture of Jewish destiny and accomplishment.

 Like many leaders blinded by their own agendas, the spies soon descended into falsehoods and slander to make their case. The tragedy in cases such as this is that the people often follow this flawed leadership, bringing calamity upon one and all. We should always be wary of the true motives of those who profess to lead us for the alleged public good.

  Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein