“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”. (A Tale of Two Cities) These words that open one of the greatest books ever written, paint the portrait of a world that is two things at one time. It paints a world where, depending on one’s perspective, everything was the best or the worst.
These words also invite us, the readers, to embrace a world that can be two things at once. As Jews today, we’re abundantly aware that we’re living in the best and the worst of times. We live in a time when we know Jewish sovereignty renewed. We live in a time when we can defend ourselves and not rely on other people to help us. We live in a time where all that we prayed for over the millennia has been realized. And yet we live in a time where we are not free from hate. We live in a time where we are not free from terror. We live in a time where we are forced to hide and forced to wonder if this will all be okay in the end. That is what it means to be Jewish in 2026.
We’ve overcome the Inquisition and the expulsions and the Holocaust only to live in the world of October 7th. We’ve overcome all of that only to be subjected to the vicious threats and real terror by a regime hellbent on our destruction. To be Jewish today is to recognize that two truths live side by side; sometimes antagonizing one another, sometimes at peace and sometimes in a cold peace. Take war for instance: war is not good and it’s not happy, but it can be and is necessary at times, “A time for loving and a time for hating. A time for war and a time for peace”. (Ecclesiastes 3:8 /קהלת ג:ח) That’s where we find ourselves now. Nobody should be happy we’re at war, but we can and do recognize we need to be at war. Nobody should rejoice at the downfall of our enemy, “If your enemies fall, do not exult” (Proverbs 24:17 / משלי כד:יז), but we can and should breathe a sigh of relief that we don’t need to worry about their hatred or violence as much as we did. The Jewish people are a people of peace, but we’re also a people who are committed to live and to assure our continued living into the future. We’ll work for peace while assuring our own longevity. That’s the dichotomy of this war and of all wars we fight. We didn’t choose to start this war. It was forced onto us by Iran and its proxies, so we continue to fight this war.
This week we’ll learn of other dichotomies when we read פרשת כי תשא/Parshat Ki Tisa. It will also be שבת פרה/Shabbat Parah. In כי תשא we learn about the עגל הזהב/Egel HaZahav/The Golden Calf. This act of betrayal is something our people have lived with through the ages. We see the gold and the cow as being something of a legacy. An example of this is that on ראש השנה/Rosh Hashana we’re forbidden to use the horn from a bull because it would remind God of this sin. In (Numbers 19 / במדבר יט) we learn about the פרה אדמה/Parah Adooma/Red Heifer and how it was to be used to cleanse a כהן/Kohen who was made impure by having come in contact with death. The cow of the עגל הזהב and the cow of the פרה אדמה are both cows with very different affects and effects on and for the Jewish people. One recalls a sin and one provides a path to becoming pure again. One took away and one brought back. Both are cows and yet they’re each distinct for how they’re seen and what they did.
We live in the worst of times and the best of times. There’s no way to not feel the weight of that statement right now. The trick is for us to reread this statement with a bit of a twist. It’s the best of times in spite of being the worst of times. We live in times that are tough and we’re surrounded by so much hardship and adversity, yet we have many blessings and the power to shape our own future and our own world view. It’s the best of times no matter how bad today might be.