“In a small village in Poland, excitement was growing. The town had only one rabbi, the rabbi only had one son, and the only son of the only rabbi was going to be married to a beautiful young woman of the village. Everyone was looking forward to the wedding, and in honor of the upcoming nuptials the mayor of the town issued a proclamation.
First, the mayor instructed that a huge barrel be built in the middle of the town square. The mayor explained that a ladder should also be constructed, to lead up to the top of the barrel, just like the kind of ladder that would lead up to the top of a watter tower. Next, the mayor decreed that during the coming two weeks everyone in the village was to fill a pail with the best wine from his or her wine cellar and bring it to the village square. Then each villager was to climb up the ladder and pour the wine into the barrel. That way, the mayor said, on the evening of the wedding, the bride and groom and their guests would tap the barrel and have the sweetest, most wonderful celebration the village had ever known.
After the carpenter had built a gigantic barrel and set it on top of tall poles, he constructed the ladder. Over the next two weeks, hour after hour, day after day, a procession of villagers carried their buckets into the square. Then each villager climbed the ladder and poured the contents of his or her bucket into the barrel.
As the days passed, everyone could see the level of the liquid moving up the barrel because as the moisture was absorbed, it began to seep through the wood. As the barrel became more and more full, the villagers grew more and more excited.
Finally the day of the wedding arrived. The rabbi was cheeful as he married his only son to the beautiful young woman. After the vows were exchanged and the groom broke the glass, everyone shouted, Mazel tov! And the villagers moved to the town square for the celebration.
Music was playing, and the villagers sang with joy. They watched from below as the mayor of the town, who had proclaimed that the barrel be built, mounted the ladder and climbed to its top. He carried a mallet with him and stood ready to tap the large barrel. The villagers held empty jugs in their hands and stood ready to fill their glasses with sweet wine.
Finally the Mayor tapped the barrel, and placed his glass under the spigot. But, what came out of the barrel? Nothing but water. The villagers lowered their eyes with shame.
But why? How could this be?
Well, you see, for two weeks every villager had thought that he or she could get away with pouring a pail of water into the barrel because, after all what would one pail of water matter with all that wonderful sweet wine? Each villager had expected the other villagers to do their part, figuring that he or she had to do nothing.
We always need to try our best instead of trying to get away with less. If we do not put in the effort or the sacrifice-we cannot expect our family, our friends, neighbors, coworkers, fellow congregants, or citizens of our country and world to do their part.
This week’s Torah portion, Ki Teitzei impresses upon us our responsibilities to do our part, to be responsible for how we act in the world as individuals, to be responsible not only for ourselves but for our families and friends, in addition to our universal responsibilities to one another as human beings made in the image of God.
Ki Teitzei contains 74 out of the 613 commandments found in the Torah. Why here? Why now with all the commandments? Well, Moses is preparing to die, and what he wants above anything is for the Israelites to remember what he has told them, so that as he leaves them, they will take responsibility for themselves as individuals, their neighbors, their community, and those who they will encounter from the nations of the world.
Throughout most of the portion, we read about responsibilities we have to others, but, what responsibility to do we have to ourselves? Well, as we saw in the story, we have the responsibility of being our best selves as much as possible, because when we are not, we impact the other people around us. In these weeks leading up to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we spend time reflecting on how we fulfilled our responsibilities and how we missed the mark, we perform Chesbon Nefesh, an accounting of our souls. Often, we spend a great deal of time thinking about the many ways we have failed our families and friends, but we forget about the promises we make to ourselves. During the year we let the those promises slide, because they are not as “important”. But, we all have responsibilities, to take care of our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. It is our responsibility to spend a bit of time taking care of ourselves so that we can take care of others and be our best selves.”
One of my favorite lines in the Talmud is Kol Yisrael Aravim Zeh Beh Zeh. All of Israel is responsible for one another. Two verses in Ki Teitzei, in particular, remind us of this obligation. We are told that, “If you see your fellow’s donkey or ox fallen on the road, do not ignore it; you must help him raise it.” We are responsible for helping others, and not just them but their pets or animals as well. We cannot sit by and ignore the plight of our friends, neighbors, or co-workers, it is our responsibility in some way to help lift that other person up.
Just as we are responsible for our neighbor’s property and animal’s well being so too are we responsible for our neighbor’s physical well being when they enter our space. Later in our portion we read that “When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, so that you do not bring bloodguilt on your house if anyone should fall from it.” It is not enough for us to return lost property and to help raise up a fallen animal or a fallen neighbor, we must also prevent danger in the first place. It is up to us to protect those we know and love, just as it is up to us to ensure that the spaces we inhabit are safe for ourselves and for others.
This sense of responsibility relies upon the mitzvah of V’ahavtah L’reacha Kamocha, loving your neighbor as yourself. But, we are told not only to care for our family, friends, and neighbors, we are also told to care for the person whom we have never met; the stranger in our midst. Towards the end of Ki Teitzei we read, “When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow—in order that the LORD your God may bless you in all your undertakings” (Deuteronomy 24: 19). In this way, we are not only responsible for ourselves, our families, and communities, we are also responsible for the person we have never met.
The Aleinu prayer begins with our particular responsibility to praise God as Jews and ends with our more universal responsibility to the world. The Aleinu begins with the words, Aleinu L’shabeach L’adon Hachol. It is upon us to worship God.
It is on us, meaning it is our responsibility. The words that appear later in the prayer say that it is our responsibility as Jews, as the chosen people to worship God. However if we go to the last paragraph of the Aleinu we see a different message. Although most translations of the latter paragraph say that God’s strength will obliterate idols, and establish the sovereignty of the Almighty, the Hebrew, L’takein Olam B’Malchut Shadai, may also be translated to mean, so that God’s strength repairs the world through God’s sovereignty. In many ways, our prayers express how we are to be and to live. This line in the Aleinu, reminds us of our obligation to emulate God, to be people who seek to repair the world, to turn our attentions to our responsibilities to be God’s partners in healing the great brokenness of our society today.
During the month of Elul, we are returning, turning our attention back to our responsibilities, to where we may have missed the mark in taking care of ourselves, caring for and ensuring the safety and well being of others, as well as to our responsibilities for the world in which we live. This Shabbat, and as we get closer and closer to Rosh Hashanah, we have the opportunity to turn our attention back to our responsibilities, to ensure that we can become our best selves. As we look forward to the new year, may we find the strength and resolve to be more conscientious, kind, and generous to ourselves, those we love, and to our world.
Shabbat shalom.

Story based on “The Barrel,” as told by Rabbi Steen Z. Leder in Three Times Chai, pg. 4-6.

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