In Parashat Behukkotai, we encounter the profound warning against walking "contrary" (bekeri) with God, which Rashi interprets as treating significant events as mere accidents or coincidences. This spiritual blindness—this refusal to see divine meaning in world events—has characterized much of Jewish response to the major upheavals of recent generations. Whether we consider the Holocaust, the establishment of the State of Israel, or the unprecedented levels of assimilation, we have largely failed to derive meaningful lessons from these monumental events, preferring instead to continue as before, attributing catastrophes to chance or deflecting blame onto others rather than examining our own conduct.

The Torah describes severe consequences for this attitude of walking "contrary" with God—a series of escalating punishments meant to shake us from our complacency. Yet there exists in human nature a defensive mechanism that allows us to remain unmoved even amid successive afflictions. We look outward rather than inward, identifying external causes rather than personal responsibility. This pattern prevents genuine change and perpetuates our collective suffering. The truly wise person, however, attaches meaning and significance to everything that happens, recognizing that major events demand a response, a reevaluation, and perhaps even a transformation of one's understanding and conduct.



True teshuvah (repentance) requires confessing not only our own sins but also "the sins of our fathers"—an acknowledgment that our errors may extend beyond our individual lives into patterns inherited from previous generations. This broader reckoning is necessary because we often justify questionable behaviors by claiming, "This is how I was raised" or "This is our tradition." Authentic soul-searching must encompass both the personal and the historical dimensions of our conduct. When confronted with major events, we must ask: What does this mean? What are its implications? What must change as a result? Without this comprehensive examination, we remain trapped in the cycle of walking "contrary" with God, missing the deeper significance of our collective experience.

Questions to Contemplate

When facing personal or communal hardship, do I instinctively look for external blame rather than turning inward to examine how I might need to change?



What inherited patterns or assumptions from previous generations might I need to critically examine and perhaps confess, even though they feel comfortable and natural to me?