A perpetual fire, the Torah says, shall not go out. But perpetual doesn't mean self-sustaining. Someone has to show up and lay the wood.

God handed Moses a procurement list for the Tabernacle — down to the dye colors. Then: everyone whose heart is so moved.

The parsha with the Ten Commandments is named for a Midianite priest. A lot of people heard what God did. Yitro moved.

Joseph told his brothers: come forward to me. The whole parsha runs on that verb. This week in Israel, we came.

Sarah laughed twice in Genesis. Once in disbelief, once holding her son. She named him for the distance between the two.

The rabbis can't agree whether Noah was great or just adequate. Five months into being Jewish, that question reads differently than you'd expect.

The Torah sends soldiers home from war — not for weakness, but for unfinished lives. A house not dedicated. A vineyard not harvested. A love not begun.

The Torah says "open your hand" and "spend it on whatever you want" in the same parsha. Re'eh doesn't make you choose between generosity and joy.

The Torah commands a blessing for after you eat — when you're full and most likely to forget. The small commandments almost seem to bear the most weight.

Miriam carried the well for forty years and nobody noticed until she was gone. The Song of the Well is what happens when you dig with your own hands.