Parashat Nitzavim

Choose Life!

When Moses stands before the people in Parashat Nitzavim, something shifts in his voice. In contrast to the blessings and curses of the last Parasha, Ki Tavo, he's no longer the distant physician delivering cold facts - "If you do this, you'll live; if not, you won't." Instead, he becomes like a loving parent or mentor who leans in close and says, "Look, I've shown you both paths. Now let me tell you what I really think - choose life." This isn't just information anymore; it's heartfelt counsel from someone who genuinely cares about the people’s well-being. Joshua continues this same intimate approach later, essentially saying, "You've seen what God has done for us. The choice is yours, but as for me and my family, we're choosing to serve God."

Here's where it gets personally challenging: we often can't tell the difference between what will bless us and what will curse us. I might think I'm choosing something wonderful, only to find myself trapped by what seemed so promising. The Torah acknowledges this human struggle - sometimes the same exact situation can be a blessing for one person and a curse for another, or even a curse for me today and a blessing for me tomorrow. Think about Naḥum Ish Gamzu, who lost his hands and feet yet insisted, "This too is for the best." It wasn't denial - he had learned something profound about how our inner stance toward life shapes our actual experience. When I approach my Judaism with resentment, seeing the mitzvot as 613 burdens, I'm literally creating my own spiritual prison. But when I can glimpse what the Maggid of Kozhnitz saw, that being descended from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is worth dancing in the street,  the exact same religious life becomes pure joy.

The deepest truth here is that spiritual wisdom works like developing taste buds. A child naturally loves candy, but appreciating aged wine or complex music requires cultivation. When the Psalm says "taste and see that God is good," it's acknowledging that some of life's greatest sweetness can't be explained or handed over - I have to develop the capacity to perceive it myself. Sometimes I need to crack tough shells, chew patiently, even spend years learning before I can recognize the goodness hidden within what initially tastes bitter. "Choose life" isn't just about making one decision; it's about committing to the patient work of developing eyes that can see blessing, even when it comes disguised as challenge.

Questions to Contemplate

Where in my life am I serving "against my will" - going through the motions of good things while secretly resenting them - and what would it look like to find genuine joy in those same practices?

What situation in my life right now could I choose to see through Naḥum Ish Gamzu's eyes, declaring "this too is for the best" instead of dwelling in complaint or victimhood?