Parshat Va’etchanan
Deuteronomy 3:23 – 7:11

By Torah Blogger, Jen Smith

This week, I spent a couple of days in the University of Pittsburgh gymnasium in Pittsburgh, surrounded not by Torah or my favorite Jewish books, but by basketballs, squeaking sneakers, and teenagers giving their all on the court. My 15-year-old son, Jordan, was there playing in the 2025 JCC Maccabi Games, and I was in the bleachers doing what all good Jewish parents do at sporting events – cheering, kvelling, and maybe coaching a little too loudly from the sidelines (though the moms from LA and Long Island put me to shame!)

But between the layups and timeouts, I noticed something else: the unmistakable presence of Jewish peoplehood. I didn’t know everyone in that gym, but I knew them. Parents and athletes from Miami, New Jersey, Los Angeles, Montreal, Mexico City, Israel, and even Poland (to name only a few) came from different places, with different levels of Jewish observance, different synagogue affiliations, and different Jewish expressions. But somehow, we were one.

And then it hit me: Shema Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad. Hear O Israel, Adonai is our God, Adonai is One.

This week in Parshat Va’etchanan, we hear the words of the Shema for the very first time as a declaration of faith, rather than the prayer we’ve come to understand. It was first a vision, then a theological, spiritual, and communal compass.

The Shema calls us to recognize God’s unity – but that unity also points us toward our own oneness. Across all our differences, we are part of something bigger. We are part of a people – Am Yisrael – a living, breathing collective with memory, destiny, and soul.

Judaism is many things. It is Torah and Talmud, ritual and law, prayer and belief. But it is also belonging. It is showing up for each other – in the pews and in the bleachers, at funerals and food drives, at candle lightings and kiddushes and yes, at basketball games in Pittsburgh. It is knowing that when someone says “mazel tov,” or “Baruch Dayan Ha’emet,” or “L’chaim,” they are speaking your language, even if you’ve never met before.

Moses, in this parsha, pleads with God to let him enter the Land. He doesn’t get to – but he does get to remind the Israelites of who they are, and who they must continue to be. “For what great nation has a god so near to them… and statutes and laws so righteous?” (Deut. 4:7-8)

We are that people. Not because we all observe every mitzvot listed in the Torah, and not because we agree on every custom or prayer or policy. But because we carry something shared. Because we say Shema together – even when we say it differently. Because we belong to one another, even when we don’t realize it.

I went to Pittsburgh to watch basketball and witnessed a sacred truth: our people are still here. We are still showing up. We are still one people, even in a world that often tries to divide us. And maybe, that’s the most powerful kind of Torah we can pass on.

Shema Yisrael – listen, Israel:
You are not alone.
You are not forgotten.
You are part of something ancient, beautiful, and whole.
And wherever you go, whether you find yourself abroad or in a gym in Pittsburgh – your people are already there.

Shabbat Shalom.