Breaking News From the Parsha

Parshas Chukas reads like a news broadcast—headline after headline with barely a pause. Should the parsha really feel like the news?

Living With the Times

Since October 7th, we’ve been more glued to the news than ever. If you go half an hour without checking the internet or Twitter, you feel completely out of touch with reality.

This is especially noticeable on Shabbos and Yom Tov. Sometimes, people rush over to update me on the latest headlines, even on Shabbos morning. That’s exactly what happened on October 7th, which was Simchat Torah—I only found out that war had broken out when I met people who had seen the news.

There was a time when people got their news from the morning paper. Today, by the time the paper hits the stands, it’s already outdated. Either Israel and Iran have gone to war, or they’ve signed a ceasefire. Then five minutes later, the headlines say the Iranian nuclear program has been destroyed—only to report shortly afterward that it’s not quite so; maybe it’s just been delayed a year or two.

My heart goes out to newspaper columnists. By the time their opinion piece hits print, the world has already changed—and their take sounds completely disconnected from reality.

This all reminds me of a chassidic story:

The Alter Rebbe once came out to the chassidim and said, “M’darf leben mit di tzeit, One must live with the times.” The chassidim tried to understand what he meant—surely he wasn’t telling them to follow the news or keep up with the latest fashion trends or real estate buzz. Eventually, his brother explained that the Rebbe meant we should “live with the weekly Torah portion.” 

A Jew’s “news” is the weekly parsha being read in shul; that’s what we’re supposed to live with. 

Portion of the Day

The Frierdiker Rebbe instituted the practice of studying one aliyah per day—Sunday, the first aliyah; Monday, the second; and so on.

Now, some parshiyos are focused on a single main topic—like Shelach, which tells the story of the spies; or Korach, which is all about the rebellion against Moshe Rabbeinu; or next week’s Balak, which centers entirely on Bilam’s prophecy.

In those parshiyos, a person might fool himself into thinking that if he misses a day of study, it’s not such a big deal—you still feel like you’re “in the loop,” you basically know what’s going on. But this week’s parshah, Chukas, is a whole different story.

This parshah reads like a breaking news ticker—headline after headline, each just a few verses apart. It opens with the mitzvah of the Parah Adumah (Red Heifer), a commandment given to the Jewish people shortly after they left Egypt. In order to bring korbanos and enter the Mishkan, one had to be pure from tum’as meis—impurity from contact with the dead. Washing your hands or even immersing in a mikvah wasn’t sufficient. To become pure, someone had to sprinkle on you a special water mixture containing ashes of the Red Heifer, which was always rare and precious.

Right after this mitzvah, the Torah skips ahead thirty-eight years and suddenly we’re in the final year of the Jews’ journey in the desert. If you missed the second aliyah, you’d be lost: out of nowhere, we’re talking about entering the Land of Israel—what happened to the last 38 years? Immediately after the Red Heifer, the Torah tells us about the passing of Miriam.

Breaking News:  Miriam Passed Away – No Water!

It happened in Nissan of that final year—Miriam passed away. Immediately afterward, the nation faced a water crisis in the desert. It became clear that for forty years, the miracle of the well had been in Miriam’s merit. Her very name contains the word mayim (water). And the moment she passed, the water dried up.

How did the people respond to this crisis? They did what they were best at—they complained to Moshe and Aharon: “Did you bring us to the desert just to die of thirst?” 

Then, if you missed Tuesday’s study this week, you missed one of the most dramatic headlines in the parsha. How do I know it is dramatic? Because to this day, at almost every weekly Torah class around the world, someone inevitably asks: “Why was Moshe punished so harshly?

Breaking News: Moses Will Not Enter Israel!

Hashem told Moshe: “Take the staff and speak to the rock, and it will give water.” But instead of speaking to the rock, Moshe struck it. Water flowed, but Moshe was punished for not following the instruction to speak. That moment sealed his fate—he would not be the one to lead the Jews into the Land of Israel.

That’s huge news. The shepherd who led the Jewish people through the desert for forty years… would not be the one to bring them home.

It’s very difficult to understand. Just because he hit the rock instead of speaking to it? What’s the big difference? After all, the people got their water—the goal was achieved. And even with all the thoughtful explanations out there (and there are many), the question still feels stronger than the answer.

Breaking News: Edom Refuses Passage

On Wednesday, we read how Moshe reaches out to the king of Edom to request safe passage through his land on the way to Eretz Yisrael. Edom refuses, and the Jewish people are forced to take a detour.

Breaking News: Passing of Aaron, the High Priest

Thursday’s aliyah tells of the passing of Aharon the High Priest, just four months after the death of his older sister, Miriam. Aharon’s passing was what our Sages call misas neshikah—the “kiss of death.” Moshe, Aharon, and his son Elazar ascended Mount Hor, where Moshe told Aharon to enter a cave. Inside, a bed was set and a candle was lit. Moshe instructed him to lie down and close his eyes, and that’s how Aharon passed away. 

When Moshe and Elazar came down alone, the people realized Aharon was gone, and the entire nation mourned him for thirty days. This is the source for the halachic concept of “shloshim.” Aharon was so beloved that everyone—men, women, young and old—mourned him. Even Moshe didn’t merit that kind of national mourning.

In that very same aliyah, we read how once again the people complain—this time about the long, exhausting journey and the “lousy food,” referring to the mann. As a result, they are attacked by venomous snakes, and many die. The people cry out to Moshe, who prays for them. Hashem tells Moshe to make a copper snake and place it high on a pole. Anyone bitten who looks up at the snake will be reminded of Hashem, do teshuvah, and be healed.

Breaking News: Sichon & Og are Defeated

Finally, at the end of the parshah, we read how Moshe defeats Sichon and Og—two giant kings, brothers,  who blocked the entrance to the Land of Canaan. Hashem tells Moshe, “Do not fear him,” even though Og was a literal giant. Moshe fights and wins.

Living Beyond the News

It’s a relatively short parsha, but it’s packed with major developments every single day, and what makes it especially meaningful is that it centers on the “Three Shepherds” of the Jewish people—Moshe, Aharon, and Miriam. 

Tonight marks the yahrzeit of my father, Rabbi Moshe Greenberg, of blessed memory. Of the three shepherds, I think my father followed most closely in the footsteps of Moshe Rabbeinu, whose name he bore.

My father was a Jew who lived with true mesiras nefesh—self-sacrifice. That’s how he lived his entire life. In Russia, where every small act of Jewish observance required real courage—keeping Shabbos, eating kosher, doing a bris, or any other mitzvah—he did it all with unwavering commitment.

That same spirit of dedication continued when he immigrated to Israel. The only thing that truly mattered to him was the Rebbe’s will. The moment he understood what the Rebbe wanted, he did it—without hesitation and with the same self-sacrifice he had in Russia.

One thing is certain—my father was never interested in “the news.” The only headlines that mattered to him came from the weekly parsha.