Rabbi Jacobson’s 7/17/26 Qabbalat Shabbat Sermon

Rabbi Suzie Jacobson | Qabbalat Shabbat, July 17, 2026 | Temple Israel of Boston

View the video recording of Rabbi Jacobson’s sermon

 

Shabbat Shalom and Mazal Tov!

Do you have any idea why I’m congratulating you?

This Shabbat we make it to the final book of the Torah — Deuteronomy. Good job!

Though so much of our Torah is the story of a journey, in Deuteronomy the Israelites are standing still. They are right there, on the banks of the Jordan River, looking out over the land of Israel. Their physical journey is complete, but their emotional and spiritual journey is still underway. Moses will spend the coming chapters and parshiyot preparing the people through several long speeches before he leaves them to continue on their way without him.

Moses, through much trial and error, has become both a good leader and a wise teacher. He sees that the people are afraid, and he knows his job is to inspire them — to help them transform their fear into purpose.

He names their fear. He recognizes that they have traveled through a “great and terrifying wilderness” (Deuteronomy 1:19). Though it would be easy to gloss over the people’s past moments of unease, he recalls in detail the frightened reports of the ten spies who went into the land and were terrified of the great and numerous people living there.

But Moses doesn’t let the people stay in this recollection of their terror. Their fear is pachad — the fear of imagined threats, the projected worst case, the anxiety loop. This is what Moses tells the people they need to release.

Instead, they must feel yirah — which can also be translated as fear, but is better translated as “awe.” The trembling awe of standing before something vastly larger than yourself. As they look out over the land, that is what he wants them to experience.

Moses teaches: “Have no dread or fear of them. None other than Adonai your God, who goes before you, will fight for you — just as [God] did for you in Egypt before your very eyes, and in the wilderness, where you saw how Adonai your God carried you.” (Deuteronomy 1:29-31)

He is teaching the people: Yes, the future is uncertain. Yes, there are dangers and trouble ahead. But you aren’t alone. God carries you… and — to add my own spin — we carry one another. We are in this together.

This is a strange sermon to give in July. Moses wants to talk about fear, and you all look… relaxed. I bet most of you have recently been on a beach or in the Berkshires. I bet you’ve eaten a higher-than-average number of ice cream cones lately!

But now is actually a great time to talk about fear. We usually only think about fear when we’re in its grip — when the hamster wheel of life is spinning off its axis. And that is a terrible time to think clearly. Moses isn’t speaking to the Israelites mid-battle. He is speaking to them at a pause, on the plains of Moab, recounting old fears from a place of relative calm. Summer gives us that same vantage point. We have enough distance to look at the hardest parts of our lives without being flooded by our emotions. We don’t build our spiritual tools in the midst of crisis; we build them in the quiet moments of reflection — in the pause when we finally breathe.

I sometimes wonder whether summer calm is true peace or pleasant avoidance. Underneath the barbecues, vacations, and cocktails with friends, we are still the same people carrying what we always carry: worry for our children, who will start a new school year in six weeks; anxiety about our health or the health of those we love; the knowledge that we will eventually return to hectic routines; awareness of a news cycle we’re trying to take a break from.

Deuteronomy is a book of liminality. The Israelites are camped between wilderness and promised land, between the generation of slaves who have died and the generation of free people who will build a civilization. Right now, we too are in a liminal space. The question Moses poses is for us as well: How do you stand at a threshold? With pachad — terror at what might happen — or with yirah — awe that we are not alone in the intensity of being human?

This Shabbat is Shabbat Chazon, right before Tisha B’Av, which itself embodies this tension. Tisha B’Av is a day of communal mourning — for the destruction of the Temples, for all that has befallen our people through centuries of oppression. And this day of mourning is dropped right in the middle of vacation season.

Come on, Judaism! We’re at the beach! Can’t we just be chill?

You might be thinking: Rabbi Jacobson, what is your issue? Why are you reminding me of everything in the future that gives me anxiety AND everything in the past that gives me pain? It’s a beautiful night — don’t we deserve this moment of summer distraction?

We certainly do. But summer is also an opportunity — not to solve every problem that lies ahead or fix every trauma in the rearview mirror, but to strengthen ourselves. As we stand in this liminal time between what was and what will be, we can each, in small ways, build our resilience and our sense of belonging. God is with us, and we are with one another.

As we sit on the beach, or kayak on the lake, or look out over the mountains; as we enjoy our friends and family, or watch our gardens grow; as our children play in the sunshine and we savor a cup of coffee outside — these big and small moments of awe can strengthen us, inspire us, and help us remember who we are and what is truly important.

The truth of life is that we are always in a liminal moment between what was and what will be. Our lives are always filled to the brim with joy and sadness, anxiety and longing. But our culture’s habit of scheduling vacations and hikes and barbecues when the weather is nice gives us an opportunity to recognize that the world is so much bigger than any one of us alone. 

In Deuteronomy, the Israelites are gazing out over their future lives. In July we too are gazing out over the complexity of a life not yet lived. What do we see when we gaze into the future? What can we notice now that can fortify us for the journeys ahead? May we be strengthened and inspired as we move through our seasons together.