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Faith over fear: Parshat Sh’lah
What’s my report?
This week is about freedom. We commemorated Juneteenth—the day in 1865 when Union troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, and announced the end of slavery. That day marked the announcement of emancipation, but not the completion of freedom. Freedom is never instantaneous; it is a process, a struggle, a journey—one that demands faith, persistence, and accountability.
In The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store by James McBride, the residents of Chicken Hill—a multicultural neighborhood in Pottstown, Pennsylvania—embody the fragile, interdependent march toward freedom. Jews and African Americans live side by side, navigating shared struggles and hopes.
At the heart of this world is Chona Ludlow, who runs a modest grocery store. To the Black residents, she becomes an “artery to freedom”—a lifeline in a time and place with too few. Her quiet faith, her courage to stand up for the vulnerable, and her willingness to risk herself for others makes her more than a shopkeeper—she becomes a messenger of possibility.
This phrase, artery to freedom, stayed with me after listening to the book last summer. It reminds us that none of us reach liberation alone. We need one another—we need lifelines. But more than that, we each have a sacred responsibility to be a lifeline for others. We are vessels, not just recipients. Without continuing the journey—without delivering the message and following it through—freedom remains elusive. Each of us has the responsibility as a shaliach, an emissary, to be honest in our message rather than be corrupted by fear or agenda, poisoning our collective body.
We often find ourselves in an all consuming media world that cares less about a story that’s important and more about a story that’s compelling. The loudest report is the right one, right? When a hospital is bombed in Beersheva, or when ballistic missiles send thousands running to cover- what is the report being given? What happens when the truth of a story doesn’t play well with a compelling, all-in, yet deeply flawed narrative?
Miri Bar-Halpern and Jaclyn Wolfman, two Boston-area trauma therapists, give voice to a phenomenon many in our Jewish community have felt over the last 20 months. In a recent article, they use a term from their field: traumatic invalidation.
They explain: traumatic invalidation occurs when the pain of victims is dismissed, minimized, or denied. Like when rape victims are told they misinterpreted what happened, or even brought it on themselves. This term now echoes across Jewish communities around the world in the wake of October 7, when Hamas-led terrorists brutally slaughtered over 1,200 Israelis and abducted more than 250 to Gaza.
Bar-Halpern and Wolfman write:
“Rather than being met with compassion and care, many were instead met with a stunning mix of silence, blaming, excluding, and even outright denying the atrocities of October 7 along with any emotional pain stemming from them.”
What Bar Halpern and Wolfman describe is a giant “laughing emoji” to the pained status of those we don’t know and show little care for. This is the opposite of a lifeline. This is a severing, a refusal to witness truth. Indocrination poisons the message and the messenger.
We find ourselves in uncharted land, in an era of disinformation and invalidation. How can we be emissaries of truths, even multiple truths, when we travel into new uncharted territory? We look to the name of this week’s parasha: Shelach. Send forth.
We know the Shoresh:
שָׁלִיחַ (shaliah) = Messenger, shaliach tzibbur is a prayer leader
מִשְׁלוֹחַ (mishloah) = Delivery, as in our special delivery on Purim
מִשְׁלַחַת (mishlahat) = Delegation; often referring to our Israeli groups that work at Jewish summer camps across the country.
שְׂעִיר הַמִּשְׁתַּלֵּחַ (se’ir ha-mishtalei’ah) = The scapegoat that gets sent to Azazel on Yom Kippur to atone for Benei Yisrael’s sins
Sh’lach is something we are familiar with from a number of recent storylines in the torah (and even earlier than these):
וַיִּשְׁלַ֣ח פַּרְעֹ֔ה וְהִנֵּ֗ה לֹא־מֵ֛ת מִמִּקְנֵ֥ה יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל עַד־אֶחָ֑ד וַיִּכְבַּד֙ לֵ֣ב פַּרְעֹ֔ה וְלֹ֥א שִׁלַּ֖ח אֶת־הָעָֽם׃ {פ}
Pharaoh sent [scouts] (following the cattle plag) and behold not a single animal of the B’nei Yisrael died. The heart of Pharaoh remained hard and he did not send out the people.
וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יהוה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה בֹּ֖א אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה וְדִבַּרְתָּ֣ אֵלָ֗יו כֹּֽה־אָמַ֤ר יהוה אֱלֹהֵ֣י הָֽעִבְרִ֔ים שַׁלַּ֥ח אֶת־עַמִּ֖י וְיַֽעַבְדֻֽנִי׃
Then the Lord said to Moshe, Go in to Par῾o, and tell him, Thus says the Lord God of the Hebrews, Send out my people, that they may serve me.
So we see:
Sending forth a messenger or delegation may result in a delivery in hand, but does not guarantee satisfaction for anyone in the supply chain- sender, messenger, or receiver.
Sending forth leaders, Moses hoped for a positive review. why Shlach Lecha?
Rashi states:
שלח לך SEND THEE (more lit., for thyself) — i.e. according to your own judgement: I do not command you, but if you wish to do so send them. — God said this because the Israelites came to Moses and said. “We will send men before us etc.”, as it is said, (Deuteronomy 1:22)
Rashi points out—God doesn’t command the sending of the scouts. “Send for yourself,” He says. In other words: I’m not taking credit for what happens next. The responsibility rests with you, Moses—and with the people.
שלח לך אנשים. לָמָּה נִסְמְכָה פָרָשַׁת מְרַגְּלִים לְפָרָשַׁת מִרְיָם? לְפִי שֶׁלָּקְתָה עַל עִסְקֵי דִבָּה, שֶׁדִּבְּרָה בְאָחִיהָ, וּרְשָׁעִים הַלָּלוּ רָאוּ וְלֹא לָקְחוּ מוּסָר (תנחומא):
שלח לך אנשים SEND THOU MEN — Why is the section dealing with the spies put in juxtaposition with the section dealing with Miriam’s punishment? To show the grievousness of the spies’ sin: because she (Miriam) was punished on account of the slander which she uttered against her brother, and these sinners witnessed it and yet they did not take a lesson from her (Midrash Tanchuma, Sh’lach 5).
The juxtaposition of this story with that of Miriam’s punishment (for her lashon hara, or slander) is no accident. The scouts witnessed Miriam’s fate and still failed to learn from it. Rashi notes this starkly. Accountability—learning from mistakes—is essential for growth and freedom.
So Moses sends the scouts. The outcome is sobering.
Let’s take a look at the two sides of their response.
(כז) וַיְסַפְּרוּ־לוֹ֙ וַיֹּ֣אמְר֔וּ בָּ֕אנוּ אֶל־הָאָ֖רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֣ר שְׁלַחְתָּ֑נוּ וְ֠גַ֠ם זָבַ֨ת חָלָ֥ב וּדְבַ֛שׁ הִ֖וא וְזֶה־פִּרְיָֽהּ׃ (כח) אֶ֚פֶס כִּֽי־עַ֣ז הָעָ֔ם הַיֹּשֵׁ֖ב בָּאָ֑רֶץ וְהֶֽעָרִ֗ים בְּצֻר֤וֹת גְּדֹלֹת֙ מְאֹ֔ד וְגַם־יְלִדֵ֥י הָֽעֲנָ֖ק רָאִ֥ינוּ שָֽׁם׃ (כט) עֲמָלֵ֥ק יוֹשֵׁ֖ב בְּאֶ֣רֶץ הַנֶּ֑גֶב וְ֠הַֽחִתִּ֠י וְהַיְבוּסִ֤י וְהָֽאֱמֹרִי֙ יוֹשֵׁ֣ב בָּהָ֔ר וְהַֽכְּנַעֲנִי֙ יוֹשֵׁ֣ב עַל־הַיָּ֔ם וְעַ֖ל יַ֥ד הַיַּרְדֵּֽן׃
(ל) וַיַּ֧הַס כָּלֵ֛ב אֶת־הָעָ֖ם אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֑ה וַיֹּ֗אמֶר עָלֹ֤ה נַעֲלֶה֙ וְיָרַ֣שְׁנוּ אֹתָ֔הּ כִּֽי־יָכ֥וֹל נוּכַ֖ל לָֽהּ׃
(לא) וְהָ֨אֲנָשִׁ֜ים אֲשֶׁר־עָל֤וּ עִמּוֹ֙ אָֽמְר֔וּ לֹ֥א נוּכַ֖ל לַעֲל֣וֹת אֶל־הָעָ֑ם כִּֽי־חָזָ֥ק ה֖וּא מִמֶּֽנּוּ׃ (לב) וַיֹּצִ֜יאוּ דִּבַּ֤ת הָאָ֙רֶץ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר תָּר֣וּ אֹתָ֔הּ אֶל־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל לֵאמֹ֑ר הָאָ֡רֶץ אֲשֶׁר֩ עָבַ֨רְנוּ בָ֜הּ לָת֣וּר אֹתָ֗הּ אֶ֣רֶץ אֹכֶ֤לֶת יוֹשְׁבֶ֙יהָ֙ הִ֔וא וְכׇל־הָעָ֛ם אֲשֶׁר־רָאִ֥ינוּ בְתוֹכָ֖הּ אַנְשֵׁ֥י מִדּֽוֹת׃ (לג) וְשָׁ֣ם רָאִ֗ינוּ אֶת־הַנְּפִילִ֛ים בְּנֵ֥י עֲנָ֖ק מִן־הַנְּפִלִ֑ים וַנְּהִ֤י בְעֵינֵ֙ינוּ֙ כַּֽחֲגָבִ֔ים וְכֵ֥ן הָיִ֖ינוּ בְּעֵינֵיהֶֽם׃
(27) This is what they told him: “We came to the land you sent us to; it does indeed flow with milk and honey, and this is its fruit. (28) However, the people who inhabit the country are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large; moreover, we saw the Anakites there. (29) Amalekites dwell in the Negeb region; Hittites, Jebusites, and Amorites inhabit the hill country; and Canaanites dwell by the Sea and along the Jordan.”
(30) Caleb hushed the people before Moses and said, “Let us by all means go up, and we shall gain possession of it, for we shall surely overcome it.”
(31) But the other men who had gone up with him said, “We cannot attack that people, for it is stronger than we.” (32) Thus they spread calumnies (aka slander/fear) among the Israelites about the land they had scouted, saying, “The country that we traversed and scouted is one that devours its settlers. All the people that we saw in it are of great size; (33) we saw the Nephilim there—the Anakites are part of the Nephilim—and we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.”
We hear the fear in the voices of the 10 scouts, reconfirmed by the overwhelmingly nervous response of the community, who cry out in fear. With the first report, with the Israelites drinking the kool aid, How do Caleb and Joshua respond?
(ז) וַיֹּ֣אמְר֔וּ אֶל־כׇּל־עֲדַ֥ת בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל לֵאמֹ֑ר הָאָ֗רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֨ר עָבַ֤רְנוּ בָהּ֙ לָת֣וּר אֹתָ֔הּ טוֹבָ֥ה הָאָ֖רֶץ מְאֹ֥ד מְאֹֽד׃ (ח)
(6) And Joshua son of Nun and Caleb son of Jephunneh, of those who had scouted the land, rent their clothes (7) and exhorted the whole Israelite community: “The land that we traversed and scouted is an exceedingly good land. (8) If pleased with us, יהוה will bring us into that land, a land that flows with milk and honey, and give it to us; (9) only you must not rebel against יהוה. Have no fear then of the people of the country, for they are our prey: their protection has departed from them, but יהוה is with us. Have no fear of them!”
וְטַעַם טוֹבָה הָאָרֶץ מְאֹד מְאֹד לְהַכְחִישׁ הַדִּבָּה, לֵאמֹר שֶׁאֵינָהּ אוֹכֶלֶת יוֹשְׁבֶיהָ, כִּי הָאֲוִיר טוֹב וְהִיא אֶרֶץ זָבַת חָלָב וּדְבָשׁ:
IT IS ‘M’OD M’OD’ (AN EXCEEDING) GOOD LAND. The reason [for this emphasis] is in order to contradict the false report [of the scouts]] and to state that it is not [a Land] that eateth up the inhabitants thereof, for the air is good, and it is a Land flowing with milk and honey.
This double emphasis—meod meod—is not just poetic flourish. It points to a mindset: to see goodness not through naive optimism, but through deep conviction. Caleb and Joshua’s meod meod is a defiant declaration of faith in the face of overwhelming doubt.
And this very phrase appears again in the teachings of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, in Likutei Moharan:
ליקוטי מוהר”ן, תנינא מ״ח:ב׳:ז׳
וְדַע, שֶׁהָאָדָם צָרִיךְ לַעֲבֹר עַל גֶּשֶׁר צַר מְאֹד מְאֹד, וְהַכְּלָל וְהָעִקָּר – שֶׁלֹּא יִתְפַּחֵד כְּלָל:
“A person must cross a very, very narrow bridge.
The most important thing is not to make one’s self afraid at all.”
Again: מאד מאד – meod meod. (side note- tzurot – narrowness- is used by the first 10 scouts to describe the fortresses) .
This is no coincidence. Joshua, Caleb and Rebbe Nachman recognize that the path to redemption—to true freedom—is not wide or easy. It’s precarious. Risky. But it is possible. And the key to crossing that bridge is not strength or certainty. It is faith over fear.
Like the scouts, each of us is sent out every day—to observe, to report, to lead. Whether in our homes, our workplaces, or our communities, we are messengers. The question is: What kind of report do we bring back?
Do we, like the ten, amplify fear? Do we exaggerate threats and shrink in the face of difficulty? Or do we, like Caleb, look honestly and still choose hope?
Do we recognize our role as lifelines—arteries to freedom—not only for ourselves but for others?
Freedom requires accountability—learning from the past, owning our choices; being an ally rather than searching out an alibi,for where we weren’t when it mattered most. Accountability demands faith—faith that we can grow, change, and overcome. And faith insists on courage—not because the path is wide, but because the bridge is narrow.
Caleb’s report didn’t deny the challenges. But he did not let fear become falsehood.
Let us remember: the land, our ancestral homeland, is very, very good—tova meod meod.
Even if the bridge is very, very narrow—tzar meod meod.
Because God is still with us.
Because we are still here.
And because our voices, our reports, and our faith still matter.
