“Standing, Going, Remembering:
A Covenant Across Generations”
By Rachel Siegel, September 25, 2025
It is a true honor — and a deeply personal moment — to offer this drash.
Last week’s parshiot, Nitzavim (“You are standing”) and this week Vayeilech (“And he went”), come to us in the final stretch before Yom Kippur — a sacred time of reflection, return, and renewal.
Together, these portions ask us to hold two spiritual postures:
To stand, rooted in who and where we are — and to go, to move forward with courage into an uncertain future.
We are reminded that this covenant, this connection to the Divine, is made not just with the people standing before Moses, but also: עֲתֵם נִצָּבִים הַיּוֹם כֻּלְּכֶם לִפְנֵי ה’ אֱלֹהֵיכֶם
You are standing here today, all of you, before the Lord your God” (Deut. 29:9) Men, women, children, leaders, strangers, and workers-everyone is included in the covenant.
Moses than emphasizes that the commandments are not distant or impossible: כִּי לֹא בַשָּׁמַיִם הִוא… Ki lo bashamayim hi… “It is not in the heavens…” (Deut. 30:12)
Rather it is near- in our mouths and hearts, so that we may do it.
“With those who are not here with us today.” (Devarim 29:14)
This year, that verse resonates deeply for me — in memory and in hope.
It marks twenty years since the passing of my beloved husband, Benjamin. זִכְרוֹנוֹ לִבְרָכָה
Benjamin stood — netzav — for his values, for his family, and for quiet dignity.
And he walked — halach — through life with humility, steadiness, and strength.
He lived the teachings of Torah, not loudly, but faithfully — in word and deed.
This drash, this moment of standing before you, is also standing with him.
It is a declaration that love and memory are not diminished by time.
In Nitzavim, the Torah makes a revolutionary statement:
“You stand this day, all of you, before the Lord your God — your leaders, your children, your women, even the stranger in your camp from woodchopper to water drawer…” (Devarim 29:9–10)
This is not a covenant for the few. It is for everyone. Everyone stands before God.
Nechama Leibowitz, the master Torah teacher of the 20th century, reflected deeply on this. She drew a powerful contrast between the rootedness of נִצָּבִים (nitzavim, “standing”) and the movement of וַיֵּלֶךְ (vayeilech, “he went”).
To Leibowitz, “standing” is not passive. It is a deliberate act of spiritual presence — showing up, participating, belonging. “Going”, by contrast, symbolizes responsibility — the obligation to carry forward what we’ve inherited and act in the world. As Moses steps down, the people must now step up.
She also taught that the Torah’s concern for communal responsibility — especially in verses like:
הַנִּסְתָּרוֹת לַה’ אֱלֹהֵינוּ וְהַנִּגְלוֹת לָנוּ וּלְבָנֵינוּ עַד עוֹלָם
“The hidden things belong to the Lord our God, but the revealed are for us and our children forever…” (Deut. 29:28)
— means we are not held accountable for what we cannot see or understand, but we are entirely responsible for what we do see: injustice, need, opportunity. Torah is lived in the visible world, through collective choices.
Leibowitz believed that the covenant is never abstract. It’s rooted in our daily lives and communal bonds. For Leibowitz, the journey of Torah is both stillness and movement- the presence to witness, and the courage to act.
Feminist voices like Rabbi Dianne Cohler-Esses highlight the radical nature of this inclusion. Women, often unaccounted in ancient legal texts, are explicitly named. Their voices, presence, and agency are affirmed as essential to the future of the community.
This covenant, as read through feminist eyes, is not static -it is living dynamic and incomplete without all of us.
Judith Plaskow reminded us that teshuva – return -is not only personal but collective. Revelation is not one moment in history. It is ongoing — and incomplete until all voices are heard.
This is the spiritual work of our time: to listen more deeply, to widen the circle, and to ensure that covenantal responsibility includes justice, equality, and shared leadership.
Our own Rabbi Gail Labovitz invites us to see the covenant as something far more than a historical event. Sinai is not just in the past; it reverberates in our present. The standing we do today is a continuation of the standing our ancestors did- and a commitment we renew each year. Her words underscore that the covenant is not only with those physically present in the wilderness but also with “those that are not here with us today” (Deut.29:14)
In her words: “I believe without doubt that the soul of each and every person who has been, is now, or ever will be part of the Jewish people, was present at Sinai.”
Her words reframe covenant not as a memory, but as a living, eternal inclusion.
When we say: עֹמְדִים הַיּוֹם כֻּלְּכֶם— “You are standing here today, all of you…”
We must mean it. All of us. Those named and unmade, visible and unseen, past and future.
This season holds more than one layer for me.
Alongside Benjamin’s yahrzeit is the fourth yahrzeit of my mother, Cipora, יְהִי זִכְרָהּ בָּרוּךְ Her memory walks with me daily. What she endured, what she passed down- it haunts and shapes me. Her life reminds me of the resilience and faith required to stand firm amid uncertainty.
And then profound joy in the birth of a new grandson, a precious symbol of hope, renewal, a new beginning.
The juxtaposition of life and loss, past and future, is the heartbeat of Nitzavim- Vayelech. Memory doesn’t hold us back. It gives us strength to move forward.
We carry those who came before us. We Walk for those who will come after.
The interplay of grief and joy gives shape to what it means to stand-not in spite of complexity, but because of it.
The Torah declares: עֹמְדִים הַיּוֹם כֻּלְּכֶם You are standing here today, all of you it calls us to stand fully- with courage, with grief, with joy, and with hope.
Moses reminds us כִּי קָרוֹב אֵלֶיךָ הַדָּבָר מְאֹד — בְּפִיךָ וּבִלְבָבְךָ לַעֲשֹׂתוֹ
Ki karov eleicha hadavar me’od — b’ficha uvilvavcha la’asoto.”
“It is very near to you — in your mouth and in your heart — to do it.” (Devarim 30:14)
Nitzavim teaches us to stand
Vayeilech compels us to go forward.
We are called to do both: to stand in truth, and to walk with intention.
The Midrash teaches:
A prince has wandered far from the palace.
The king sends him a message: “Return.”
But the prince says, “I cannot — the road is too long.”
And the king replies:
“Return as far as you can… and I will come the rest of the way.”
This is teshuvah. We are not expected to make the full return alone.
God meets us where we are.
Tradition teaches that during these ten days,
the gates of heaven are open —
but so too are the gates within us:
the ones rusted shut by fear,
or aching to be reopened by courage, love, or truth.
May we have the strength to open those gates.
May we be inscribed not only in the Book of Life,
but in the book of those who return, who remember, and who recommit.
A final plea, the line is often added during the High Holiday Amidah at the conclusion of the blessing for peace in our Mahzor for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. It reflects our deep yearning not only for life, but for a life filled with goodness, provision, and peace -for ourselves and for all Israel.
Page 139 – read in Hebrew
בְּסֵפֶר חַיִּים
בְּסֵפֶר חַיִּים, בְּרָכָה וְשָׁלוֹם, וּפַרְנָסָה טוֹבָה, נִזָּכֵר וְנִכָּתֵב לְפָנֶיךָ, אֲנַחְנוּ וְכָל עַמְּךָ בֵּית יִשְׂרָאֵל, לְחַיִּים טוֹבִים וּלְשָׁלוֹם.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, עֹשֶׂה הַשָּׁלוֹם
May you be inscribed and sealed for a good and sweet year. לְשָׁנָה טוֹבָה תִּכָּתֵבוּ וְתֵיחָתֵמוּ