This week, we read two sections in the Torah: Behar and Bechukotai.

On Har Sinai, Hashem gives over the laws of the Sabbatical year to Moshe. Every seventh year, all work on the land should cease, and its produce becomes free for the taking for all.

Seven Sabbatical cycles are followed by a fiftieth year—the Jubilee year, on which work on the land ceases, all servants are set free, and all ancestral estates in Israel that have been sold revert to their original owners.

G‑d promises that if the Jewish people keep His commandments, they will enjoy material prosperity and dwell securely in their homeland. But He also delivers a harsh “rebuke,” warning of the exile, persecution and other evils that will befall them if they abandon the Torah. Nevertheless, He promises that even when we are in exile, He will never abandon us.

The 28th of Iyar celebrates the day the holy city of Jerusalem was liberated from the hands of the Arabs following the six-day war. After 19 years of longing, we were finally allowed to return to the Western Wall. Emotional prayers took place, thanking Hashem for the miracles that led to this day and begging Him to continue to protect Israel and the Jewish people.

There is a well-known fable of a man in distress looking up to G‑d:

"G‑d, You promised to walk beside me, but when I look behind me, I see only one set of footprints trodden into the sands of my life?"

And a caring, compassionate voice responds, "My son, those footprints you see are Mine, carrying you as you traveled along your journey."

In this Parsha, Hashem warns us of the troubles that will befall us lest we break our special covenant with Him. Yet, he also assures us that even in hard times, He will be there with us and never leave us.

Maimonides placed the agency of every human being at the tipping point of the entire universe. When you make a moral decision, the entire universe is involved in that decision and in its consequences. The size of the deed is not what matters. It is, after all, only a catalyst.

One milligram can tip a scale. One small deed could be enough to ignite a process to change the entire world. One small opening is all that’s needed, and the rest will heal itself. Whatever you do, do it with the conviction that this is the one last fine adjustment, the tipping point for the entire world.

Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai was possibly the holiest man that ever lived. Besides authoring the 'Zohar', being a master of the oral Torah and a miracle worker, he was one of the few Jews in history who spent every instant of his time learning Torah.

So, everyone was surprised when, the day after Rosh Hashanah, he showed up at the door of his nephews' home and began to lecture them about the importance of giving charity to the poor.

Although they didn't really have money to spare and totally didn't understand the urgency of what he was saying, they listened attentively; when Rabbi Shimon spoke everyone listened.

"Give with an open hand," Rabbi Shimon adjured. "Don't worry about tomorrow, G‑d will provide. And most important: write it all down. Every penny you give, write it down and carry the list with you at all times. I want to see a big sum at the end of the year."

Rabbi Shimon made them promise and he left.

Almost a year later they had another strange visit—from a posse of Roman soldiers with an order for their arrest. Someone accused them of selling silk without paying the tax to the government. They began weeping and protesting their innocence but to no avail.

Trembling with fear, they were led off to prison where they were given a choice: either pay an outrageous fine of six hundred dinar or produce an even more outrageously priced silk garment for the king, both of which were utterly beyond their means.

When Rabbi Shimon heard what had happened, he immediately rushed to the prison and got special permission to visit his relatives.

"Where is the account of the charity you gave?" He asked. "How much did you give?"

"Here," they replied as one of them pulled the small parchment from his pocket.

Rabbi Shimon took the account and noticed that they had given almost six hundred dinar; they were just six dinar short. "Do you have any money with you?" he asked.

They produced six dinars that they had sewn into their garments in case they needed it. Rabbi Shimon took the money, bribed one of the officials, the charges were dropped and they were released.

Rabbi Shimon explained to them what had happened. "This past Rosh Hashanah I dozed off and dreamt that the government would demand of you six hundred dinars. That is why I told you to give charity, to negate the decree."

"Then why didn't you tell us about that?" they complained. "We would have given the money immediately and spared ourselves a lot of anguish."

"But then," replied Rabbi Shimon. "You wouldn't have done the mitzvah for its own sake."