Shabbat Shalom, Everyone!
I don’t know how many of you know this portion, but I can tell you—it’s one of the best Bar Mitzvah portions of all time. It’s meaningful because of what it says, and what it means for becoming a Bar Mitzvah.
Even the title of the portion, Nitzavim, means “You are standing.” How perfect is that for a Bar Mitzvah? Today, I’m literally standing here, becoming responsible for my own Jewish life.
The Portion
The parasha begins: “You are all standing today before God: the leaders of your tribes, your elders, your children, your women, … your woodchoppers, and your water carriers to enter into a covenant with God.”
God considers me as a member of the tribe both as a child and now as an adult. This parsha includes everyone, even the wood choppers and water carriers. The message is clear: Judaism is not just for the important people and the rabbis. It’s for all of us, standing together.
Later, Moses tells the people something even more core to Judaism:
“[Torah] is not in heaven… it is not beyond the sea… it is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, so that you may do it.”
That line—“It is not in heaven”—is one of the most powerful lines in the whole Torah. It means the Torah isn’t far away or unreachable. It’s not something only angels can understand. It’s something we live with, here on earth, in the way we talk, the way we think, and the way we act.
Rabbis on “Not in Heaven”
The rabbis in the Talmud tell a story about a big debate. One rabbi called down miracles to prove he was right—even a heavenly voice shouted in his favor. But Rabbi Joshua stood up and said, “Lo bashamayim hi”—“It is not in heaven.” Once the Torah was given to us, it belongs to us, the Jewish people, to live and interpret.
The Sforno adds another layer: he teaches that teshuvah—returning to God—is not some distant or foreign concept. We don’t need to wait for someone else to tell us what to do or how to feel Jewish. Teshuvah can happen at any time and in any place, because it’s “in your mouth and in your heart.” But it’s especially meaningful now, a few days before Rosh Hashanah.
That’s what it means to be Jewish: not waiting for someone else, not waiting for a miracle, but stepping up and taking responsibility.
Making Judaism Mine
For me, becoming a Bar Mitzvah also means taking responsibility for my own Jewish life.
When I was younger, everything I knew about Judaism came from Habonim. That was my Jewish world. The only services I knew were at Habonim.
Then I went to Camp Ramah, and I got to see Shabbat services in a whole new way. I’ll never forget one thing I noticed there: the song they sang when you walk around with the Torah, the one everyone was singing while I carried the Torah around, was much faster at camp. I thought, maybe that’s just how they do it at Ramah.
But then I realized—at Habonim, you walk all the way around the shul. At camp, with a smaller space, they needed a faster song. The song had to match the place, like how the final jeopardy music is 30 seconds long because the contestants have 30 seconds to answer the question,
That’s when I learned something: Judaism is the same Torah, the same prayers, but it looks and sounds a little different depending on the community. And that’s not a weakness—it’s a strength. It means Judaism is alive. It adapts to where we are, and to what we need, while still keeping its core.
Tzedakah and My Mitzvah Project
Another big theme of Judaism is Tzedakah. The Rambam teaches that true Tzedakah doesn’t come from extra money you have lying around. You don’t just give from what you won’t miss. Real Tzedakah is supposed to come from what you live on. It’s supposed to cost something—because that’s when it really matters.
I thought about this during my mitzvah project—volunteering to pack care packages and write cards for American soldiers overseas. The organization honors Stu Wolfer, a Jewish American soldier killed in Iraq who worked with my mom.
When I write those cards or pack those boxes, it takes time from the prime hours of the day, 12 to 4, time I could spend doing other things. It costs effort, attention, and care. But that’s exactly the point. Like the parasha says, it’s “in your mouth and in your heart, so that you may do it.” Not only is something you CAN do–it’s something that we, as Jews, are responsible for doing. So join us on November 9th, 2025 for Stu Wolfer Day. You can find out more information about this great organization online.
Judaism isn’t just ideas—it’s actions. It’s alive in the words we write to soldiers, in the care we send across the world, in the connections we make through acts of kindness.
I’d like to thank everyone who helped me get here. My parents for raising me, giving me life, and whatnot. My brother for allowing me to live to this ripe old age. Cantor Jessica for helping teach me how to prepare. Doron Kenter and Rabbi Ben Gideon for helping me with my D’var torah. Sharon, for helping me with the torah trope, and Karen, for educating me in religious school. My grandparents for love and affection. And most especially, thank you all for coming to celebrate this day with me.
Closing
So yes, my portion may be short—but it has a big message. We all stand together. The Torah isn’t in heaven. It’s here with us, ready to be lived. And now, as I become a Bar Mitzvah, it’s my turn to take responsibility—not just for learning Torah, but for living it.
Shabbat Shalom.