When we look for a focal point of ethical teaching in the Torah, we don’t need to look much further than Leviticus 19, a section of the Torah known as the Holiness Code that is found in this week’s Torah portion Kedoshim. In it God says, “You shall be holy, for I am holy,” and then describes that the path to holiness is by observing various ethical practices.
The most famous of these teachings, a general principle of which the other commandments read like specific instructions, is “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18) This commandment is so famous and so important that one of the great rabbinic sages Rabbi Akiva calls it the “greatest principle of the Torah.”
I think we might all agree. However, the midrash (commentary) in which Rabbi Akiva makes this statement (Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim 9:4) continues with a rebuttal. Another rabbinic sage, Ben Azzai, suggests that an even greater principle of the Torah exists: “This is the record of Adam’s line.” (Genesis 5:1)
It seems like an odd verse to be selected as the most important verse of the Torah. In its context, it is not a commandment or ethical teaching but a description, it introduces a genealogy of the first generations of humans:
This is the record of Adam’s line—When God created humankind, it was made in the likeness of God; male and female were they created. And when they were created, God blessed them and called them Human. When Adam had lived 130 years, he begot a son in his likeness after his images, and he named him Seth. After the birth of Seth, Adam lived 800 years and begot sons and daughters. All the days that Adam lived came to 930 years; then he died…
And so on and so on until we get to Noah, and the Torah resumes its narrative.
So again, why this verse? I happen to love this midrash and agree with Ben Azzai, and not just because my name is included in the genealogy he cites. “Love your neighbor as yourself” is an important teaching, but could be understood as limited in scope. One could read this as a command to only love one’s “neighbor”—i.e., one who is close by, one who is of the same community, one who is like you. On the other hand, the verse cited by Ben Azzai is a reminder that regardless of tribe, family, or nation, we are all descended from the same ancestor. Everyone is our “neighbor.” Our obligations extend beyond those who are “like us” to the entire human population.
These obligations are not mutually exclusive. We can be concerned with our own family and people as well as with others. Indeed, these are often linked—the well-being of our family and people is tied up with and dependent on the well-being of others.
As is the case over these past few months, it is hard to read these texts these days without thinking of the current struggle in Israel and Gaza. We continue to watch in anguish as Israeli hostages remain captive. And we continue to watch in horror as tens of thousands of Palestinians are killed, hospitals and schools leveled, families and communities decimated and displaced, and a forced humanitarian aid crisis and famine continues to be imposed. The most recent incursion into Rafah this week is the latest in this string of moral offences.
Two months ago I signed a letter put out by T’ruah, the rabbinic human rights organization, that called upon the Biden Administration to work to end the fighting, noting that a ceasefire is not at the expense of the release of hostages, but the only way to secure the release of hostages. That a military solution is destructive and not sustainable. And that humanitarian aid must be provided.
That letter continues to be relevant today.
[I want to share too that at our Community Passover Seder, in response to the call of the Haggadah to “let all who are hungry come and eat,” I invited those in attendance to make a donation to those who are suffering from hunger here in our community (through the Thurston County Food Bank), in the US (through Mazon), in Gaza (through the New Israel Fund) and throughout the world (through World Central Kitchen). As that call should continue to reverberate even after Passover, I invite you to continue to contribute to bring hunger relief to those who need it.]
So while we must advocate for the perpetuation and survival of the Jewish people, we must also be able to recognize that this current Israeli government is on a path that is harming the body and soul of the Jewish people.
There are many times over these past few months that I struggled to find hope. And then I read a text like the midrash above and know that there is a possibility to live into these ancient teachings. One source of hope as my heart continues to hurt is from grassroots coexistence organizations that are working within Israel and Palestine to create a better future. These organizations recognize that we are interconnected and are all in this together. They recognize that while we must understand the past, the desire to undo it is its own destructive force. They understand that peace comes from investment not divestment. They understand that one people can’t be free unless all are free.
We too can embody these principles. That as we advocate and work for the survival and safety of the Jewish people in Israel, here in the US, and around the world, we can at the same time advocate and work for the survival and safety of Palestinians and all peoples.
As Jews we must love our neighbor as ourselves, yes. And we must also remember that we are all in the record of Adam’s line.


Thanks for continuing the conversation!