Essential Life Lessons from Shemita and My Sabbatical: Parshat Behar 5786/2026

Rabbi Lauren Grabelle Herrmann

There is a Yiddish word “Bashert” — “meant to be” or perhaps we might alternatively define it as “cosmically organized.”

When I planned a 3 month sabbatical for this year — a first in 20 years of being a rabbi — I organized the dates around being back just in time for Daniel’s Bar Mitzvah. I didn’t know that the end of the first installment of my sabbatical would be the parsha about… Sabbatical! That is certainly Bashert.

Now, I admit: a modern day sabbatical is very different from what is described in the Torah. A modern day sabbatical is for an individual; Torah’s sabbatical is instructed to a community and an entire nation. A modern day sabbatical is for particular professions, including clergy who are subject to high rates of burnout through their work. A biblical sabbatical is for everyone, no matter what their profession. A modern day sabbatical is for learning and rest; a biblical sabbatical is for the land itself (it’s a “shemita la’aretz” in the text) and for furthering a more equitable and fair world.

At the same time, while re-reading this parsha after just returning from sabbatical, I saw how the core concepts in the Torah were mirrored in my experience over the last 11 weeks and vice-versa. More importantly, I saw how the intrinsic wisdom of the personal and collective can teach us universal lessons, whether or not we are lucky enough to have the opportunity to take an extended break from our labor.

In that vein, today I reflect on both personal experience and Torah’s wisdom and lift up three aspects of sabbatical that I hope can offer some inspiration- and motivation for our lives.

#1: An Ethos of Humility

In Parshat Behar, the Torah makes a radical claim:

“The land is Mine (capital M for God!). You are but sojourners and residents (gerimv’ toshavim) with Me.” (Lev. 25:23)

Let’s remember that the intended audience for this statement are members of an agrarian community, who diligently plant and sew and work the land. It would be easy and understandable for those workers to view the land as theirs, and not only in a way of exploitation but one of care and stewardship.

Alas, one of the lessons the Divine wants the Israelites to learn during shemita and its ongoing cycles of 7 years is the lesson of humility. “Don’t get too haughty” is God’s message. Do not forget that there is a bigger story you are part of.

About 15 days after I left for sabbatical (and just five days after I left Israel on a trip with my teenager), the US-Israel war with Iran began and then expanded to Hezbollah in Lebanon. A few weeks later, a shooting and car-ramming violent anti-semitic attack on a Reform synagogue in Michigan happened. Two Jewish men murdered in London for being Jewish. And many other anti-semitic attacks since. And just this past week, the Supreme Court gutted the voting rights act, opening channels to manipulate elections and deny basic human rights.

And, as a rabbi on sabbatical, it was not my job or my place to say anything or to comfort or galvanize the community after these events. And while not surprising to those who know me, it was extremely hard to restrain myself from stepping into action and speaking or acting in my rabbinic capacity.

But as the Torah teaches, there is deep wisdom in this restraint — a vital reminder for me to be humble — to recognize that I do not have to lead on everything, or say everything that I want to say all of the time. To recognize that the community would be OK if I didn’t come forward with a profound message or inspiration words. To remember that I am just one person and I cannot fix or heal everything -and that the constant pressure to do so will make my role unsustainable.

This is not just a lesson for rabbis or other communal leaders — this is an important teaching for all of us. We do not have to carry the load of the world or of our challenging lives all alone. We can hold both truths: Our actions do matter — AND we remember we do not have to act in every moment and in every situation or we will burn out and then not be of use to our loved ones and community. A reminder that we are not the center of the universe. It’s a freeing and helpful reminder!

This mindset opens up other possibilities — for discernment about what we cannot do and what we can do; for seeing ourselves as part of a larger whole; for letting us be of service AND for the possibility of breathing and take the breaks we need to sustain ourselves.

#2: Stepping out of your Routine in order to Return “Differently.”

As I mentioned, the Torah describes sabbatical/Shemita as “shabbat l’aretz” — a sabbath for the land. That said, whenever I think about shemita, I always find myself thinking about the impact on the Israelite community, as individuals and a collective. Imagine an entire year where everyone around you is resting from their day labors! Nothing demanded of the individual or collective community for 365 days.

While I imagine that at the beginning, there was time for kicking up your feet and resting — but after some time, I imagine the sabbatical became a time for self-reflection and consideration of how to re-enter applying that acquired wisdom (for work and for life). Pressing “stop” on the demands of daily life is so powerful because it opens up new ways of being in the world and gives the space for cultivating new habits and commitments.

I saw this on my sabbatical. An example: I have complained for years about not having a regular exercise routine. And I have had some real challenges: I don’t live particularly close to a good gym; I have been dealing with knee issues after a rough surgery recovery. And, it did not help that I generally went to work very early in the morning and came home just in time for dinner or later than that.

Could I have carved out time before February 13 2026? Theoretically yes, I suppose. But it was only when I pressed a full and complete STOP could I move forward and create a new exercise habit.

It was the space from the obligations, routines and pressures that gave me space to create a new habit. And then in time, I started to think about what habits I need to break and what I need to create in order to approach my whole life differently — so that the demands of life do not stop me from joy, from rest, from connection.

Shemita is called “Shabbat Shabbaton” — the same name we use for Yom Kippur, the holiday of release and beginning anew. Judaism recognizes that sometimes we have to really come to a screeching halt to see more clearly what we value and what is needed to help us be of greater service in the world.

But this does not have to be just one day of the year — or granted only to those who have the privilege to take 3 or 6 months off — it is something we can do every day.

I invite you to press the “STOP” button from time to time — and see what’s possible that you felt was before impossible.

#3: Pausing is Not Optional, It is Essential.

The first words of this torah portion are surprising: “God spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai…” This is said right before describing the laws of Sabbatical.

A question for rabbinic commentators through the ages is: Why specifically mention Mount Sinai? It is not necessary to specify this fact AS ALL OF the commandments were given at Mount Sinai! As the tradition of reading the Torah goes: every word in the Torah has significance and purpose. So when something is out of place or unnecessary, it is there to teach us a specific lesson.

I believe that this connection between Mt Sinai- the sight of revelation of Torah — and sabbatical is there to teach us that creating structured opportunities for rest and renewal, as well as righting the wrongs of society, IS the (or a) IKAR (essence) of Torah and Jewish practice.

Sabbatical is an extension of the Jewish concept of Sabbath, what we celebrate today and each week. As Abraham Joshua Heschel says: The Sabbath is when we move from “doing” to simply “being.” It is a palace in time, a taste of the world to come. Pausing is the essential Jewish act that brings us to gratitude, awe and wonder.

I noticed that as my sabbatical went along, I would “sit in” moments longer. I would savor a meal, take a moment to look at my family in with a depth of appreciation not necessarily possible in the harried pace of life. I went out to the Conservancy Gardens and found myself taken by surprise by the rainbow of tulips in a way that I never had before. Pausing made all that possible.

Our ancient ancestors had the wisdom and foresight to understand that pausing is essential for living a good life. It is what reminds us, in this society focused on productivity as value, that we are valued just because we are tzelem elohim, in the image of the Divine.

On a day when we celebrate a Bar Mitzvah — a new Jewish adult with full responsibilities in our community and soon in our world, this message is so important. The world will tell us to stay busy, to keep going, to be productive, to do yet another project to get a better grade or a promotion. And at the same time, Jewish tradition is whispering in our ears: we are not just what we produce or create. Rest is not optional, it’s essential for us to embrace life in all its fullness.

We can never hear this message enough. Pausing is not something we need an official sabbatical for. It’s in our weekly calendar. It’s also in our every day- everytime we take a breath and reset.

Shemita is the embodiment of Judaism’s core teachings. It is “Mi Sinai” — “from Sinai — the holy place where we receive the holiest wisdom.

And as Daniel told us, Shemita may not be the most practical commandment in our tradition — yet nonetheless it offers a life-affirming, soul-saving vision for life that each and every one of us can learn from.

Let’s remember: Be humble and remember you do not have to do everything. Take time out of your routine in order to show up “differently.” Pause, breathe, reset — it is essential, not optional.