“May we be Worthy of the Dream”

“May we be Worthy of the Dream”

Parashat Shelach tells the tragic story of lost vision.

The Jewish people are poised to enter the Promised Land, and twelve leaders—men of stature—are sent to scout it.

But instead of returning with courage and strategy-

with love for the land and renewed faith in Gd,

ten of the spies return with fear:

"We saw giants... we were like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and so we were in theirs." (Bamidbar 13:33)

They didn’t lie—but they let their fear overshadow their faith.

They saw real threats, but they forgot the bigger truth—that God had already promised them the land.

Their failure wasn’t in their eyes—it was in their hearts.

They couldn’t see beyond the danger to what was possible.

And so, the entire generation was destined to die in the desert

Only Caleb and Joshua spoke with vision and courage:

"The land is very, very good... If God desires us, He will bring us into it." (Bamidbar 14:7–8)

They didn't deny the challenges.

They acknowledged the fear—but moved forward anyway,

with faith and hope.

This story resonates powerfully today.

The Jewish people—this time, the modern State of Israel—is engaged in a war not only for land, but for survival.

And one of the most existential threats we face is from Iran, a regime that openly declares its desire to destroy Israel and backs terror proxies across the region—from Hamas and Hezbollah to militias in Syria and Yemen.

And still, Israel continues to build, to create, to thrive.

Despite war, despite trauma, despite being under threat, the Jewish people have not stopped dreaming.

We have not stopped believing in our future.

We are not paralyzed like the ten spies.

We are fighting—but not just to survive.

We are fighting to protect a vision:

of a Jewish homeland, of peace, of a flourishing life in our ancestral land.

And perhaps that's why this parsha concludes with a seemingly unrelated mitzvah: tzitzit—fringes on the corners of our garments.

"And you shall look at them and remember all the commandments of God, and not follow after your heart and your eyes, which lead you astray." (Bamidbar 15:39)

The tzitzit are small, but they pull us toward something vast.

They are a visual cue not to follow fear, or impulse, or defeatism—but to anchor ourselves in values, in memory, in purpose.

The tzitzit literally ties us to our mission.

After the sin of the spies, God gives us a tool to stay oriented—to look higher, to remember who we are, and to continue the journey, no matter how hard.

And that’s exactly what Israel is doing right now.

Yes, there are giants.

The threats are real—especially when they come from a regime like Iran, which funds terror and pursues nuclear capability with the explicit aim of erasing us.

But we will not live like or see ourselves as grasshoppers.

We will continue to dream, to build, to hope.

It’s how we have always survived.

And the tzitzit reminds us: don’t shrink.

Don’t give in to despair.

Lift our eyes.

Expand our vision.

Be like Joshua and Caleb.

Let us live with courage.

Let us dream of a future where our enemies are scattered and our people are united—with one heart, in peace, in our land.

May we be worthy of the dream.

May we protect it with strength.

And may we merit to see it fulfilled—speedily, and in our days.

Shabbat Shalom

Elissa