Letting Go is the Real Power
The Torah offers us a radical vision of our relationship with the land in the portion called Behar—“On the Mountain.” There, we are introduced to the mitzvah of Shemitta, meaning “release.”
In the seventh year in Eretz Yisrael, after six years of labor—planting, tilling, nurturing, and harvesting—we are commanded to stop. Completely. The land is to lie fallow. We are not to sow or reap, not even from the aftergrowth. And notably, the Torah doesn’t say you shall observe this sabbatical—it says the land itself shall observe it1. The message is clear: the land is not ours.
But what would this have meant for farmers in ancient Israel? How could they, knowing the bounty their land could yield—food for their families, sustenance for entire communities—simply let it rest for a full year?
As if anticipating our stiff-necked response to all this, the Torah then says:
“And if you should say, ‘What will we eat in the seventh year?' We will not plant, and we will not gather our produce!’ [Know then, that] I will command My blessing for you in the sixth year, and it will yield produce for three years.” ~Leviticus / Vayikra 25:20
The Torah is telling us: Trust. Fulfill the commandment of Shemitta, and only then will the sixth year's harvest sustain you through the seventh, eighth, and even into the ninth year.
This is the essence of bitachon—trust in the Divine. Our sages teach that the commandments offer more than law—they teach life lessons. So what do Shemitta and bitachon teach us?
These two concepts are deeply intertwined. To truly trust, we must let go—release our grip on material gain, our attachment to possessions, and acknowledge the true Source.
We must release our illusions of ownership. If everything comes from the One, then nothing truly belongs to us—not even the land we work so hard to cultivate. That’s why the true meaning of tzedakah is not "charity," but justice. As agents of God, we are not being generous; we are restoring balance2—for the poor, and even for the land itself.
We often believe we are in control. That illusion is our arrogance.
The mitzvah of Shemitta challenges this belief. It asks us to surrender our natural drive for power, for agency, even for attachment. It asks us to set aside ego and instead believe: There is enough. Hashem will provide.
This is the first step toward bitachon, and it isn’t easy. Trust takes practice. That’s why we begin with small steps.
Worry less. Trust more.
We can choose to spiritually climb the mountain—Har Sinai—and receive the light3 of Torah. Our tradition teaches that Sinai was not the tallest or grandest mountain. On the contrary, it was modest, humble—easy to overlook. And that’s precisely the point.
We are called to humility. To let go of ego and embrace something greater.
Even the Hebrew hints at this transformation. The Hebrew letters for Behar (bet - hei - reish ) בהר when turned around spell Rahav (reish- hei-vet) רהב which means arrogance! When we lose sight of the light and clarity of the Divine, we fall into the fog of self-importance.
But those same letters can be rearranged once more to spell Raba (reish - bet - hei) רבה greatness!
We have the power to turn things around. Like the letters4, our lives can be re-ordered. We can move from ego to awareness, from control to trust, from arrogance to true greatness.
We can go beyond ourselves and begin to realize that we can be more aware of The Source of our blessings, m’kor habracha.
As we left Mitzrayim, the narrow place, and stood at Har Sinai, we moved from constriction to revelation. We received not just laws, but a new way of being—a relationship with the One Above. We connected to the highest light and spiritual consciousness.
This process is in our spiritual DNA. It is our birthright.
All we have to do… is pivot.
When you enter the land that I assign to you, the land shall observe a sabbath…Leviticus ‘ Vayikra 25:2
The purpose is to let the land rest, but also for others to derive benefit from Hashem’s blessings: “…but in the seventh you shall let it rest and lie fallow. Let the needy among your people eat of it, and what they leave let the wild beasts eat. You shall do the same with your vineyards and your olive groves.” Exodus / Shemot 23:11
The reference to light here is not accidental. In Hebrew, the letters in behar also means radiant!
There is one other connection the Hebrew offers us. In Gematria, the system of assigning numerical values to each Hebrew letter, Behar equals 207. Coincidentally—-the value for light, ohr (aleph - vov - resh) אור - is the same.