The Torah presents Law as process, teaching us that even divine statutes must sometimes change to meet the needs of the moment.

What begins as a history of the universe becomes a history of the earth and of mankind.

It is here, in the world of the living, that our sacred vocation can be fulfilled.

Why did Moses fall on his face as if this were an affront? Why did the fire of God burn and the earth split open?

In the dreamscape of the Torah, certain figures seem to visit us again and again, donning different guises as they appear in new contexts.

For two radically different kinds of occasion, God has commissioned a single instrument. The same trumpets that will call the people to war will inaugurate their festivals.

In each of these tellings, we are given a different understanding of what completion looks like.

For those who are willing to take note, there is nothing boring about it.

Like the land, our lives are ours to borrow, not to own. They are short. They contain both suffering and joy, and the best we can hope for is a fair balance.

In this week’s parashah, as well as in those that have preceded it, we have come to understand the exact nature of this burden.