In the reflective spirit that follows our national celebration of independence on the Fourth of July, we are invited not just to look back — but to look deeper. The fireworks may have faded, but the question remains: What is freedom? And how do we live it?
Both the Bible and the American story are conversations about freedom. They are messy, complex, and hopeful — not just about liberty as an idea, but as a lived journey, a covenant, and a calling. At the heart of the biblical story is God’s gift of free will. To be created in God’s image means having the capacity to choose, to question, even to disobey. Freedom is not always used well, but it is the sacred foundation of any relationship.
The Torah is often seen as a book of rules. But in Hebrew, the word for “engraved” on the Tablets at Sinai is ḥarut. The rabbis of the Talmud play on this word, reading it as ḥerut, meaning freedom. The commandments are not chains, but are the engravings of a path toward meaningful, purpose-filled living.
This same paradox appears in American history. The Constitution, an engraved covenant, wasn’t perfect, but it aspired to enshrine liberty and justice. It offered not just freedom from tyranny, but freedom to build, serve, and include.
Parashat “Pinchas” we read last Shabbat comes at a potent time in the Jewish calendar: the 17th of Tammuz, which begins a three-week period of mourning leading to Tisha B’Av, the day commemorating the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. These weeks focus on loss, but also on hope and renewal. Pinchas acts in a moment of crisis. He steps forward when others hesitate. Tradition later identifies him with Elijah the Prophet, who also stood alone, questioning himself, yet he remained faithful to his calling. Like Moses, who said he was “heavy of speech” — not diplomatic — but still chosen. As the saying goes: God doesn’t call the qualified; He qualifies the called.
Freedom is not just individual; it is communal. It grows when we see the divine in others. As “Hatikvah,” Israel’s anthem, declares: The dream is “to be a free people in our land,” a freedom based on relationship, not isolation. Freedom calls us to show up — not only when it’s easy, but when it’s difficult, too. It’s not always clear when we are living through historic times. But that is when freedom matters most — when it’s on the line.
May this month of Av bring us to act together,
—Rabbi Gadi Capela