Dvar Torah given at Stora Synagogan in Stockholm August 2026
Parashat Ki Teitze (Dvarim 22:1-3) contains a curious law:
If you see your fellow Israelite’s ox or sheep gone astray, -והתעלמת מהם- do not ignore it;
you must take it back to your peer. If your fellow Israelite does not live near you or you do not know who [the owner] is, you shall bring it home and it shall remain with you until your peer claims it; then you shall give it back. You shall do the same with their donkey; you shall do the same with their garment;
and so too shall you do with anything that your fellow Israelite loses and you find:
לא תוכל להתעלם- you must not remain indifferent.
While this translation of the last phrase preserves the intent of the text, in an effort to not sound redundant it translates the root ע.ל.מ earlier as do not ignore it and then at the end as you must not remain indifferent. While duplicate use of a word is common in biblical text, it’s also an invitation to look more closely.
עלם means to cover or hide, the hitpael (reflexive) form here means to ignore, to cover/hide one’s eyes. It’s an evocative word, להתעלם- almost means to hide it from yourself. Rashi on this verse explains that the word means “to cover your eyes as if you didn’t see it.”
It’s an apt word for the situation described in the parashah. Who, when faced with the requirement of taking in an animal for a possibly extended period of time, wouldn’t be tempted to look the other way and pretend not to see it. It’s far easier to avert our eyes and continue on with our plans for the day, then to drop everything and take responsibility for a lost animal.
This concept is expanded to cover the mitzvah/responsibility of returning any lost object. Maimonides described it as a negative commandment to not ignore lost objects. Rabbi Adin Steinzaltz called it a positive obligation to return lost items to their owner.
I’m a resident of New York City, and I think many big city dwellers have in common that sometimes it’s easier to avert our eyes than take responsibility for whatever uncomfortable situation is unfolding around us. While it’s likely not a lost ox or sheep, we are, all the time, exposed to situations that we cannot take responsibility for and it’s far easier to pretend that we don’t see and move along.
As a minute example, last month I found a bank card on the street in Manhattan. Stopping to pick it up meant seeing if I could connect the name of the card with someone I could find. Unfortunately the name was too common, and now that I had picked it up, I felt obligated to find the branch of the bank and return it there. While not a huge amount of effort, I was on my way somewhere and didn’t have extra minutes to spare.
But I avert my eyes plenty. Past people who can really use financial or mental health support. Past situations where someone is acting erratically or even dangerously. In some cases, there’s an honest hope that If you don’t look the trouble in the eye, it won’t find you.
We all do this. Maybe we pretend not to hear the yelling from our neighbor’s house- it’s not our business. Maybe we don’t answer the door when someone who needs help comes calling. Maybe we don’t look too closely at systemic problems where we can’t see a solution and so taking ownership or responsibility is simply not feasible.
But averting our eyes also means we miss things that are important. Rosh Hashanah is coming up and in our Torah readings we’ll read about two instances of two such people.
In Genesis 21:19 we will read the story of Hagar. She and her infant Yishmael are kicked out of Abraham and Sarah’s house. She’s in the desert, the baby is crying and she’s out of supplies. And then we read
וַיִּפְקַ֤ח אֱלֹקים֙ אֶת־עֵינֶ֔יהָ וַתֵּ֖רֶא בְּאֵ֣ר מָ֑יִם וַתֵּ֜לֶךְ וַתְּמַלֵּ֤א אֶת־הַחֵ֙מֶת֙ מַ֔יִם וַתַּ֖שְׁקְ אֶת־הַנָּֽעַר׃
Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water.
She went and filled the skin with water, and let the boy drink.
The solution to Hagar’s immediate problem was there, but she needed her eyes opened in order to see it and to care for her son. Again we have this vivid imagery of opening the eyes.
Genesis 22:13 has another such example. Abraham is about to sacrifice his son Isaac when God stays his hand and stops him from doing so. Then:
וַיִּשָּׂ֨א אַבְרָהָ֜ם אֶת־עֵינָ֗יו וַיַּרְא֙ וְהִנֵּה־אַ֔יִל אַחַ֕ר נֶאֱחַ֥ז בַּסְּבַ֖ךְ בְּקַרְנָ֑יו
וַיֵּ֤לֶךְ אַבְרָהָם֙ וַיִּקַּ֣ח אֶת־הָאַ֔יִל וַיַּעֲלֵ֥הוּ לְעֹלָ֖ה תַּ֥חַת בְּנֽוֹ׃
When Abraham looked up, his eye fell upon a ram, caught in the thicket by its horns.
So Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering in place of his son.
This time Abraham looks up- he lifts his eyes and sees the ram which presumably had been there all along. Once he directed his eyes appropriately, he was able to find the ram, and therefore, serve God properly.
In both of these cases, while Hagar and Abraham weren’t specifically averting their eyes in order to avoid taking responsibility, they were missing something because they weren’t looking in the right place.
By contrast, the Torah presents Moshe as a model of looking and noticing. Here’s the story of Moses at the burning bush from Exodus 3:2-4:
וַ֠יֵּרָ֠א מַלְאַ֨ךְ ה׳ אֵלָ֛יו בְּלַבַּת־אֵ֖שׁ מִתּ֣וֹךְ הַסְּנֶ֑ה וַיַּ֗רְא וְהִנֵּ֤ה הַסְּנֶה֙ בֹּעֵ֣ר בָּאֵ֔שׁ וְהַסְּנֶ֖ה אֵינֶ֥נּוּ אֻכָּֽל׃
וַיֹּ֣אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֔ה אָסֻֽרָה־נָּ֣א וְאֶרְאֶ֔ה אֶת־הַמַּרְאֶ֥ה הַגָּדֹ֖ל הַזֶּ֑ה מַדּ֖וּעַ לֹא־יִבְעַ֥ר הַסְּנֶֽה׃
וַיַּ֥רְא ה׳ כִּ֣י סָ֣ר לִרְא֑וֹת וַיִּקְרָא֩ אֵלָ֨יו אֱלֹהִ֜ים מִתּ֣וֹךְ הַסְּנֶ֗ה וַיֹּ֛אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֥ה מֹשֶׁ֖ה וַיֹּ֥אמֶר הִנֵּֽנִי׃
An angel of GOD appeared to him in a blazing fire out of a bush.
He gazed, and there was a bush all aflame, yet the bush was not consumed.
Moses said, “I must turn aside to look at this marvelous sight; why doesn’t the bush burn up?”
When GOD saw that he had turned aside to look, God called to him out of the bush:
“Moses! Moses!” He answered, “Here I am.”
Noticing that the bush isn’t consumed isn’t usually the first thing one notices when seeing a fire. Maybe the first thing is – ooh look that bush is on fire! That’s marvelous in and of itself. But you’d have to sit and watch it for a while to see that it wasn’t being consumed.
That’s the real power of observation – and many biblical students and scholars note that it’s one of the traits that made Moshe a good future leader of the people
What would have happened if Moshe had averted his eyes and left the burning bush as a problem for someone else to notice and deal with? / Would he have had his encounter with God at the burning bush? Would he have been tapped to go back to Egypt and redeem our people from slavery? Would we have been redeemed? / What happens when we avert our eyes and don’t notice things that could benefit from our intervention?
Moses, is an exemplar, but Hagar and Abraham, who needed external support to truly see what was around them, were perhaps more relatable models.
As we approach the High Holiday season, it’s worth considering what would help us to be like Hagar- and to have our eyes opened to our surroundings. Perhaps the problems that we – either individually or collectively – are facing have solutions and we need help to see them. From where can we get that support? What experiences can push us to have our eyes opened and to benefit from what we can finally see.
And what would help us to be like Abraham and to look, really look around us. What might we notice anew? What actions are we taking, what habits are we stuck in because we haven’t looked up to see what other possibilities there are that we may not be aware of?
Sometimes we need a push to look up. Sometimes we need to have our eyes opened by God.
לא תוכל להתעלם- we cannot remain indifferent. Even when it’s tempting, even when we are stuck. Let us use this parshah as a reminder to open our eyes, to put ourselves in situations when our eyes are opened, and not to turn away. To notice, really notice what deserves our attention.
May we start to seek out those opportunities, and therefore may the coming year enable us to see anew, the possibilities we are as yet unaware of.
Shabbat Shalom