Proclaim Liberty Throughout the Land: A Blessing for the Class of 2026

Proclaim Liberty Throughout the Land: A Blessing for the Class of 2026
By Rabbi Rebecca Rosenthal

When I was in high school we had something called “Lab”. It wasn’t a science thing (although we had those too), but rather it was a free period in the school day that we were supposed to use for working on group projects or going to meet with our teachers if we had questions about what we were learning in class. Perhaps by giving it a fancy name, our school imagined that we would use the time to be productive, to get ahead on our homework, or to enhance our learning. The reality was that we spent a bunch of that time hanging out by the lockers or running as fast as we could to the corner bagel store in 20 degree weather without coats.

Perhaps others made better use of that time than my friends and me, but I’m not sure we were ready to be trusted with all that freedom. We weren’t making trouble, but we also didn’t fully absorb the idea that having a free period didn’t necessarily mean that we should do whatever we wanted.

Freedom – what we do with it, how we live with it, how we might appreciate it, is one of the central themes of this week’s Torah portion. The parasha describes the Jubilee year, in which all debts are forgiven, land is returned to its original owners, and slaves are given their freedom.

And if you are a student of American history, or American historical landmarks, you might recognize one of the pivotal verses in this week’s parasha. And if not, consider this a lesson in honor of America’s 250th birthday. The verse reads, u’kratem dror b’aretz l’chol yoshveha – you shall proclaim liberty or freedom throughout the land for all its inhabitants. In case you don’t have an in house US historian like I do, this is the verse that is inscribed on the Liberty Bell. Originally it was just the bell in the Pennsylvania statehouse that called lawmakers together, but over time it took on the significance of a national symbol of liberty, used by both the abolitionist and women’s suffrage movements as a symbol of their cause.

This is closely aligned with the plain meaning of our Torah text. The Jubilee, which is what is being proclaimed in this verse, is primarily about releasing slaves from captivity and creating a society where everyone can live in freedom.

But what the Torah imagines as freedom and what freedom has come to mean in the United States aren’t always in alignment. When we talk about the United States as the Land of the Free, that has come to mean that we have the freedom to do what we want, as long as we don’t hurt those around us. While there are some guardrails, freedom to do as we wish, to live our lives as we desire, is a core principle of what it means to be American.

By contrast, the freedom of the Torah, the freedom of Judaism is not just a freedom from slavery. For that God could have dumped the Israelites in the desert and moved on. Instead, the freedom of the Torah and the freedom of Judaism is the freedom to serve God, to do as God asks, and to follow God’s commandments.

Jewish freedom is freedom from subjugation and degradation, it is the freedom to make our own choices, and it is, as Rabbi Jonathan Sacks teaches, the freedom for serving God. He teaches that the reason God took us out of Egypt is “so that we should long for freedom, but understand that this is a responsible freedom, a freedom we have to make together.”

This freedom means looking at those around you and asking, how can I help? It means working to build a community of care, even when you would rather retreat. It means waking up and asking yourself every day, what does God want from me and how does God want me to live in the world? And then it means going out and working with God to create a world where this is possible for everyone. U’kratem dror b’aretz l’chol yoshveha – proclaim liberty throughout the land for all its inhabitants. That is the world we are striving for. That is the world the Torah imagines.

And sometimes that feels like too much to ask. It feels like fighting against a culture that tells us that freedom means freedom for each of us individually, I can do what I want and you can do what you want. And it is in these moments that Judaism can feel profoundly countercultural, in asking us to imagine a different kind of freedom.

For those of you who don’t know, in addition to the seniors and their families who are here tonight, I am also the parent of a member of the class of 2026. Over the last few months, I have been thinking a lot about what the next years will look like and what freedom might mean for both our Central students and for my own child. So if you will indulge me for a moment, I’d like to speak directly to the class of 2026, although the lessons are for all of us.

In reading this parasha, you might come to believe that your American and Jewish identities each give you their own ideas about what freedom means. These ideas are sometimes complimentary and sometimes contradictory. And while, as a parent and as your rabbi, I desperately hope that you won’t take freedom to mean do whatever you want, I’m not so naive as to think that you won’t experiment with your newfound freedom.

So I want to offer you a different lesson in this moment, as you stand at the threshold of your next adventure. When you turned 13, you became an adult in the eyes of the Jewish community, but most of you still didn’t have too much freedom to make your own choices. And when you were confirmed in 10th grade, you affirmed that you continued to choose Judaism as an important guiding principle in your lives, and now you get to live out that affirmation in the world.

Sometimes, you will find it very easy to be Jewish and to be American, to live your Jewish life to the fullest in college and beyond. The Jewish holidays will be on the weekend, so you won’t have any conflicting tests, your roommate will be excited to learn about Shabbat and join you at Hillel for Shabbat dinner, you will find causes and communities that align with your most deeply held values. And that will be a joy, and we hope you will call us and tell us all about it.

But there will be other times where it might be hard to be Jewish, or where the beliefs and values that you were taught by your family and in this Central community come into conflict with the larger world around you. You may feel like you need to make a choice – should I hold tightly to my Jewish values and identity, or should I turn to what the culture around me is pushing towards? And while I hope you will never encounter these challenges, if you do, please know that we are all here for you, and will support you as you navigate uncertain terrain.

Do not throw one identity out in favor of the other. Both your Jewish and American hearts are worth fighting for. Continue to learn and unpack the foundational texts of our people and of our country. Continue to become good citizens and engaged Jews. Lean on the people who love you – your parents, your families, your friends, your Central community – and stand up for the people who need you. Proclaim liberty, and work to make it so. Use your freedom responsibly and with great care and take the time to bask in your many accomplishments.

My dear members of the class of 2026, you have been through so much in your time here, from COVID B’nei Mitzvah, to October 7th, from the joys of traveling to Arizona, Alabama, Philadelphia and Portugal together, to the intense conversations about identity in CenSynTeens. You have created a true community that I hope will sustain you wherever you go. You have blessed our community in so many ways, and so now it is our turn to bless you.

I would like to call up all the members of the class of 2026 to join me on the bima for an aliyah to the Torah and a blessing.