Re’eh begins with a stark declaration: “See, this day I set before you blessing and curse.” The Torah seems to suggest that blessing follows obedience and suffering follows failure. Yet we know the world does not work so neatly. Good people suffer. Those who devote themselves to blessing sometimes carry unbearable pain.
Perhaps the Torah is teaching something more demanding. Choosing blessing does not guarantee that we will be spared sorrow. It means placing goodness into the world because the goodness itself matters. The ancient rabbis taught that the reward for a mitzvah is another mitzvah. The blessing of an act of care is that it creates another possibility for care.
This teaching feels especially urgent when people around us are carrying invisible sadness. We do not always know the weight hidden behind another person’s smile or silence. Our Jewish community continues to bear layers of grief and trauma that will require years of love, attention, and mental health care.
In such a world, choosing blessing must become more than a beautiful idea. It is the demanding work of building networks of care, noticing one another, making the call, funding healing, and refusing to let anyone suffer alone.
Hope is also a choice. Our anthem, Hatikvah, declares that we have not lost our hope precisely because hope can be difficult to hold. Sometimes we must hold it for one another. Sometimes singing for another person, calling them, or simply remaining beside them becomes an act of sacred resistance.
If you are carrying sadness that makes you feel alone, please hear this clearly: You are loved. You are needed. Call 988. Call a friend. Call a rabbi. Let someone help carry what has become too heavy.
Re’eh commands us to see. See the person whose pain remains hidden. See the blessing we can offer. Choose blessing. Offer blessing. Be a blessing. Someone needs it. Perhaps that someone is you. You are not alone. You are loved.
