“See, I set before you today a blessing and a curse.” Those are the opening words of Parashat Re’eh (Deuteronomy 11:26). The Hebrew is Re’eh—singular. Moses is speaking to each of us individually: You—see. Not merely hear. Not merely know in theory. See. This parasha also addresses the Parashat Re’eh distinction between the children of Hashem and others.
This Shabbat, 25 Av 5786 (August 8, 2026), the portion lands with unusual force. The world is loud with blood, confusion, and competing claims about who God is and what He requires. In the middle of that noise, the Torah quietly but firmly draws a line and says: Look carefully. There is a difference between My children and the practices of the nations.
You Are Children of Hashem
In the heart of the portion we read:
“You are children of the Lord your God. You shall not cut yourselves or shave the front of your heads for the dead. For you are a people holy to the Lord your God, and the Lord has chosen you to be His treasured people out of all the peoples on the face of the earth.” (Deuteronomy 14:1–2)
This is one of the rare places in the entire Torah where Israel is explicitly called banim laHashem—children of Hashem. The prohibition against self-mutilation and extreme mourning practices is not an arbitrary rule. It flows directly from identity. Because you are My children, you do not treat the body—the temporary vessel that carries the soul—as something to be gashed, torn, or destroyed in grief or despair.
Rabbi David Fohrman has shown the deep linguistic and thematic connection between this verse and the earlier rebellion of Korach. The name Korach itself echoes the forbidden korcha—the bald spot torn out in mourning. Korach’s rebellion was, at its deepest level, grief that turned into rage and then into communal self-destruction. The people had just been told that an entire generation would die in the wilderness. That grief was real. But the Torah forbids turning that grief against the head of the people or against one’s own body. When a community mourns the loss of its future by attacking its leadership and tearing itself apart, it is practicing the very korcha the Torah prohibits.
The sons of Korach did not die (Numbers 26:11). The Torah is careful not to shame the children for the father’s rebellion. Later, in Deuteronomy 24:16, the principle is stated with perfect clarity: “Parents shall not be put to death for their children, nor children put to death for their parents; each is to die for their own sin.” Ezekiel 18 repeats the same truth with even greater force. This is the opposite of the idea that guilt is automatically transferred or that some independent evil force possesses people against their will.
The Tragic Spectacle and the False Diagnosis
This past week, the world watched a man livestream himself covered in blood, cutting his own flesh while declaring he wanted to die. Platforms delayed removing the stream. Commentators, including Glenn Beck on his program, reached for the language of “demonic spirit” or “the devil.”
That language is understandable from a certain worldview. It is not the language of the Torah.
In the family of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, we were never taught that an independent devil or army of demons operates freely against the will of Hashem. Isaiah 45:7 is unambiguous:
“I form light and create darkness, I make peace and create evil—I, the Lord, do all these things.”
Everything that occurs in this world requires permission from the Creator. There is no second god, no rival power that can act without the One who said: “I am.” When a human being destroys his own flesh in public, the Torah does not diagnose a demon. It diagnoses a soul that has lost sight of the fact that it is a child of the Eternal, that the body is a temporary garment, and that the soul itself is immortal.
Rabbi Chaim Richman has taught for decades that the prohibition in Deuteronomy 14 is rooted in the immortality of the soul. Because the soul continues, extreme mourning that mutilates the body is a denial of reality. The body is the vehicle; the soul is the passenger who will one day step out of the vehicle. To slash the vehicle in despair is to forget who we are.
We Are a Family, Not a Religion
Judaism is not a religion in the way the nations understand religion. We are a family. Isaiah 51:1–2 tells us to look to Abraham, our father, and Sarah, who bore us. We were hewn from them. We come in every color, every language, every cuisine, every cultural expression—yet we remain one family. Rabbi Chaim Richman has repeated this truth throughout his teachings: we are not religious; we are a family chosen to teach the rest of the children of the world what the Father wants from all of them.
That is why the rebellion of Korach still echoes. Korach’s cry—“The entire congregation is holy; why do you raise yourselves above the assembly of Hashem?”—sounds egalitarian and spiritual. In reality, it was an attack on the structure Hashem Himself established. The same spirit appears whenever people claim that every practice is equally holy, that every path leads to the same place, or that the distinctions the Torah draws are somehow elitist or outdated.
The Torah draws distinctions because love draws distinctions. A father does not treat his own children the same way he treats strangers on the street. He holds his children to a higher standard precisely because they are his.
The Larger Distinction in Our Day
The portion begins with the choice between blessing and curse. It continues with the command to destroy the places of idolatry in the Land, to centralize worship in the place Hashem chooses, and to refuse the practices of the nations. The Exodus itself was a public distinction: “I will make a distinction between My people and your people” (Exodus 8:19). The plagues did not fall equally on everyone. Hashem was teaching the world—and Israel—that there is a difference.
We are watching a similar distinction unfold on a global scale. Wars rage. In 2025 alone, battle-related deaths reached levels not seen since the Cold War, with Sudan driving horrific civilian casualties and Nigeria seeing continued targeting of Christian communities. Hidden financial and political systems operate with almost no accountability. A man who once advised the highest levels of government invoked the Fifth Amendment repeatedly while under scrutiny. The systems that claimed to protect life have, in many places, shown themselves indifferent to it.
Ezekiel 38–39 describes a future confrontation involving nations from the north that will come against the mountains of Israel. Rabbi Tovia Singer has long pointed out the dual purpose of that confrontation: so that the nations will know that Hashem is God, and so that the house of Israel will know that He is the Lord their God. The conflict with Iran and the broader realignments of our time are not random. They are part of the process by which Hashem is again making a distinction.
The Exodus was a microcosm. The final redemption will be the full reality. Freedom from the systems that enslave the world—financial, ideological, spiritual—will come the same way the first freedom came: by the hand of the God who took us out of Egypt.
What We Are Called to See
Re’eh means “see.” Not just with the eyes, but with the heart that recognizes the difference.
See that self-mutilation—whether physical or spiritual—is foreign to the children of Hashem. See that there is no independent devil who can force a human being against the will of the Creator. Understand that we are a family, not a creed to be joined or a set of ideas to be debated. Know that the sons do not pay for the sins of the fathers, and that even in the darkest rebellion a place of repentance remains. See that the chaos of the nations is not proof that God has lost control; it is the stage on which He is making His distinction clear once again.
The blessing and the curse are still set before us. The choice is still real. The call is still singular: Re’eh—you, see.
May we have eyes to see the difference between the ways of the world and the ways of the Father who calls us His children. And may the whole world, in the end, see the same thing: that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the only God, and that His children were chosen not for privilege but for responsibility—to teach the rest of His children how to live.
Hazan Gavriel ben David
Shabbat Shalom.
Key Takeaways
- Parashat Re’eh emphasizes individual responsibility and the clear distinction between the children of Hashem and others.
- Moses highlights that Israel, as children of Hashem, should not engage in self-mutilation as it contradicts their identity.
- The Torah teaches that grief should not lead to the destruction of oneself or community, referencing the rebellion of Korach.
- Judaism is described as a family rather than a religion, emphasizing a unique bond with God and responsibility to teach others.
- Current global chaos serves as a stage for God to make His distinction clear again, calling for discernment in understanding His ways.