D'var Torah

In Parashat Pinchas, we learn an important lesson through the story of a man named Zelophehad, the patriarch of a family with five daughters. When Zelophehad dies, his property is distributed to male relatives, skipping over his five daughters. Had these daughters been sons, they would have automatically received the property, and so these sisters come before Moses to beg: “Let not our father’s name be lost to his clan just because he had no son!” (Numbers 27:4). Moses turns to God for guidance, and in an inspiring and exciting display of egalitarianism, God responds, “The plea of Zelophehad’s daughters is just: you should give them a hereditary holding among their father’s kinsmen; transfer their father’s share to them…if a householder dies without leaving a son, you shall transfer his property to his daughter.”
 
I always feel joyful when I read this section of the Torah. Not only did Moses hear the women, and bring their pleas to God, but God heard Moses, and sided with the daughters- a model of fairness and equality. But, from biblical times to today, we know that things don’t always play out this way.
 
Two weeks ago, I traveled to Israel with the American Conference of Cantors for our 2025 convention. On this trip, we witnessed inspiring, moving, and heart-breaking moments. One of these moments was a session learning from Dr. Cochav Elkayam-Levy, the creator and director of the Civil Commission on Oct. 7th Crimes by Hamas against Women and Children.
 
I saw her pain, as she shared what she had been working on since October 7th- carefully documenting the violence and assaults on women that had occurred that day. She told us that she had cried out to others around the world with her findings, looking for support and guidance, sending legal papers documenting these crimes to organizations around the world, including the United Nations, but she received no response. Her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears as she voiced the question that has been on my mind since October 7th. Is an Israeli woman’s life, bodily autonomy, and safety, worth less than that of any other woman around the world? It’s a heartbreaking question to even have to ask.
 
In the days to follow, I would visit the site of the NOVA festival, Kibbutz Kfar Azza, and other sites where we know Israeli women faced unimaginable terror and violence. The brokenness of these places haunted me, as I walked through destroyed homes and shelters where women were either killed or kidnapped by force to Gaza. And then, just a few days after my trip ended, photos of four women- Liri, Agam, Daniella, and Karina, from early days of captivity in Gaza, were released to the public. Looking injured, battered, and scared, we see four incredible young women who need to come home to their family.
 
Right now, these women have no voice. Unlike Zelophehad’s daughters, their pleas and prayers have yet to be answered. So, we must remember to cry out for them- achyoteinu, all our sisters in Israel, survivors of violence, and all those held hostage. We see you, we hear you, we believe you, and we are with you. We will be your voice until you are home.
 
Shabbat Shalom and Am Yisrael Chai.