I need human help to enter verification code (office hours only)

Sign In Forgot Password
Shabbat Ki Tavo

Dear Members and Friends,  

One theme that animates much of our Torah and Jewish texts is the idea of Covenant, a sacred agreement between God and Israel. Most famously, we have the covenant made at Mt. Sinai, when the Israelites receive the Ten Commandments and the Torah. This story is seen by our Sages as the pivotal moment that the Israelites begin their communal relationship with God and are solidified as a nation.  

In this week’s parsha, the Israelites make an additional covenant with God: Moses relays a list of blessings that Israel will experience if they behave righteously and act justly, along with an even longer list of curses that will befall Israel if they act wickedly, cause destruction or harm, or turn away from the Torah’s ethical path.  

These are the terms of the covenant which God commanded Moses to conclude with the Israelites in the land of Moab, in addition to the covenant which was made with them at Horeb [Mt Sinai].” (Deut. 28:69). 

Why is an additional covenant required? Had the Israelites not already agreed to God’s commandments and, thus, entered into a relationship with the Divine? Why is God adding additional terms to their agreement now, as they are about to enter the Promised Land?  

By this moment, almost four decades have passed since the covenant at Sinai, and the new generation that prepares to enter the Land. Additionally, God and the People know each other better than they did at Mt. Sinai. Each has seen how the other reacts in moments of tension, and each has challenged and been challenged by this relationship. Over time, both God and the Israelites have evolved. This transitional moment serves as an opportunity to revisit and renew the covenant between God and the People.  

On the Hebrew calendar, we are midway through Elul, the month of reflection leading up to the High Holy Days. During this season, we have the opportunity to examine our own actions, relationships, and priorities. Just as the Israelites renew their covenant with God, Elul invites us to renew our own commitments to our values and our community. In this moment, we reflect on the year that has passed, take account of where we have fallen short, and commit to positive change in the new year.  

Just as the Israelites in our parsha stand in this transitional moment between their journey through the wilderness and entering the land, we stand in the liminal space between the year that has passed and new year.  

As we look to the year ahead, let us consider how we might renew the proverbial covenants in our lives: our relationships with family and friends, engagement and action in our communities, and investing our time and resources in causes we care about. The High Holy Days invite us to consider the principles and ethics that animate our day-to-day lives, and to make the necessary changes in order to fully embody our values in the new year.  

Shabbat shalom, 

Lily Solochek 

Shabbat Ki Tetzé/Reflections on Interfaith Relationships

Dear Members and Friends,

This Jewish year is slowly coming to its end. It is time for reflection and analysis. In Jewish thought, particularly in Chassidic and Kabbalistic teachings, the month before Rosh Hashanah, Elul, is associated with a powerful metaphor - “Sovereign in the Field” 

Normally, the monarch is in the palace, majestic and distant, and only a select few with great preparation and ceremony can enter. But in Elul, the Sovereign “goes out to the field.” Just as a king meets his subjects in their ordinary setting without requiring palace etiquette, during Elul, every person can connect directly with God in sincerity, without special intermediaries or fixed ceremonies.

The past year has given us so many questions and reasons to reflect, repent and recalibrate. Today I will focus on a topic that has been on my mind for a long time – interfaith dialogue. As a progressive and liberal rabbi, I sincerely believe in the importance of building bridges and learning from all faiths and cultures. One of the most powerful moments in the last year was taking the LJS community to Central London Mosque and St John’s Wood Church on Shavuot. It was a moment of light and hope. 

However, any principle and position need to be balanced and well thought through. An interfaith relationship naturally raises many questions. What follows is a slightly extended version of an article published in the Jewish News this week. In it, I am reflecting on the role of Christian Zionists in the internal Jewish debate.

Like many others, a few weeks ago, I watched a video from the London rally for Israeli hostages, the one where two of my rabbinic colleagues were told to leave the stage. Enough articles were written and opinions expressed about that already. My point is different.

When I watched the moment of rabbis being removed, something caught my eye. A group in yellow Stop the Hate t-shirts climbed on stage. Among them was a woman wearing large, cross-shaped earrings - a visible expression of her Christian faith. Stop the Hate is not a Christian organisation. It is a Jewish group, though it seemingly draws visible support from Christian allies. Seeing this mix, in such a charged setting, made me wonder what happens when Jewish causes, especially those tied to Israel, become closely linked with Christian Zionist groups. What happens when a representative of one religion feels free to silence leaders of other religions?

Like any religious group, Christian Zionists are diverse. Some simply support Israel out of political conviction. Many people don’t think of theology when they go to protests. Others, however, are shaped by a religious vision rooted in 19th-century dispensationalism, popularised by John Nelson Darby and the Scofield Reference Bible — a framework nearly 150 years old but still treated in some circles as authoritative. For many in this tradition, the Jewish return to the land is part of a divine plan leading to the return of Jesus. Whether they expect Jews to “know Jesus” before or after that moment, they are certain it will happen. In the meantime, they offer strong expressions of solidarity, claiming it is unconditional, though often hoping it will draw Jews closer to Christian claims. The logic is simple: Jews in the land = prophecy fulfilled = one step closer to Jesus’ return. That’s not solidarity. That’s instrumentalising us for someone else’s endgame.

From within Christianity, such beliefs may be seen simply as theological truth claims, no different in kind from Judaism’s hope for the messianic age. The difficulty for Jewish–Christian relations lies not in the existence of such beliefs but in how they sometimes shape political action and the atmosphere within our communal life.

Some Christian Zionists, especially those who read biblical prophecy literally, treat ancient texts as political blueprints for modern Israel. This can lead to rigid positions on borders, sovereignty, and settlement expansion. And here is where support can start to feel conditional: if a Jew does not align with their theology and its political application, they may no longer be seen as the “right” kind of Jew. Applause can quickly turn to hostility, as we saw at the rally.

Interfaith cooperation can be worthwhile, and many Christian friends of Israel have no interest in proselytising. But we must still ask: what happens to Jewish self-determination when outside theological goals influence our political direction? Can the full spectrum of Jewish opinion be voiced if allies have hard-line expectations? How do we express gratitude for solidarity without allowing someone else’s narrative to define ours?

I do not doubt that many Christian Zionists sincerely believe their love for Jews is without condition. Yet history warns us that sometimes we need to be cautious. When the conversion does not come, affection can turn to rejection — as in Martin Luther’s bitter writings late in life. That is why alliances must be entered with eyes open. Friendship can be honoured and support welcomed, but the integrity of our voice, our values, and our own vision of Jewish life must remain ours to define.

Shabbat Shalom,

Igor

Tue, 16 September 2025 23 Elul 5785