Rooted in the Field: What Silicon Valley and the Labor Movement Both Miss

Google is a leader in Silicon Valley in many ways, not least for its famous employee perks. They include free gourmet cafeterias, gyms, nap pods, laundry/dry-cleaning services, and massage services. Google is the benefactor and so committed to its people that it removes every friction from their day. A very different workplace model is the one worker rights are typically associated with unions. The language of worker rights has grown louder in recent years: quiet quitting, benefits reframed not as gifts but as entitlements owed. The workplace as a site of extraction, where anything beyond a paycheck must be fought for and named as a right. These look like opposites, but they share a weakness. Corporate perks are generous yet voluntary. They are granted this year, quietly cut the next, as tech employees have learned repeatedly. Entitlement claims are durable yet unbounded, and once made, they tend to expand rather than settle. This week's parsha offers a third model, sitting in plain sight in the Torah for over three thousand years. The Torah states: כִּ֤י תָבֹא֙ בְּכֶ֣רֶם רֵעֶ֔ךָ וְאָכַלְתָּ֧ עֲנָבִ֛ים כְּנַפְשְׁךָ֖ שׇׂבְעֶ֑ךָ וְאֶֽל־כֶּלְיְךָ֖ לֹ֥א תִתֵּֽן׃ "When you enter a fellow Israelite's vineyard, you may eat as many grapes as you want, until you are full, but you must not put any in your vessel." כִּי תָבֹא בְּקָמַת רֵעֶךָ, וְקָטַפְתָּ מְלִילֹת בְּיָדֶךָ — וְחֶרְמֵשׁ לֹא תָנִיף עַל קָמַת רֵעֶךָ. "When you come into your neighbor's standing grain, you may pluck ears with your hand — but you may not swing a sickle over your neighbor's grain." (Devarim 23:25–26) Rashi, following Chazal, is precise: this is a law about a sachir — a hired laborer, working the field on his employer's behalf, mid-task. The Gemara in Bava Metzia works out the boundary: he may eat while he labors, to the point of satisfaction, but may not fill a sack, use a tool to harvest more, or take produce home. He eats k'nafsho sav'o — to his own appetite, not his household's pantry. Notice what kind of right this is. Not a perk the landowner chose to offer, and not something the worker organized to win. It is a chiyuv — an obligation built into the employment relationship itself, binding on the employer regardless of his wishes, and bounded for the worker regardless of his. It is not corporate largesse, because the employer has no discretion on this perk. Google can end free lunch; an employer that operates according to Torah Law cannot end this right, because it was never his to give. But it is also not entitlement culture, because the labor itself bounds the worker's claim. The moment he tries to convert it into ownership — filling a vessel or sending food home he has stepped outside the right into theft. Dignity here never detaches from the relationship that generated it. The same chapter continues with b'yomo titen sech'aro — wages must be paid the same day, "for he sets his life upon it" (24:14–15). The Torah legislates real economic responsibility on the employer. ​ Silicon Valley ties worker wellbeing to an employer's continued benevolence, and those perks can evaporate the moment margins tighten. A purely entitlement-based framing, whatever legitimate grievance drives it, risks severing the worker's claim from the work itself, turning every benefit into another demand. The Torah roots the right in the labor — he may eat because he is in the field, working. That rootedness gives it both permanence, since no employer can revoke a mitzvah, and proportion, since no worker can expand it past what the relationship calls for. It is an employer's responsibility, made law (halacha) precisely so it no longer depends on anyone's kindness at all. That is a sturdier foundation for a workplace, or a community, than either a free cafeteria or a picket line. Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Tension of Religion and State

In 2001, Alabama's Chief Justice Roy Moore installed a 5,300-pound granite monument of the Ten Commandments in the rotunda of the state judicial building, arguing that American law itself is unintelligible without its divine source. Federal courts ordered its removal, insisting law must stand independent of religion. Moore refused to comply and was ultimately removed from the bench — but his underlying claim endures: a legal system severed from G-d is a legal system without a foundation. About half a century earlier, there was a different but similar controversy behind the drafting of the Declaration of Independence for the modern State of Israel. As the document was finalized in May 1948, religious Zionist leader Rabbi Yehuda Leib Maimon insisted that the birth of the Jewish state could not be declared without invoking G-d — "Tzur Yisrael v'Go'alo," the Rock of Israel and its Redeemer. Secular leaders resisted, but even they could not bring themselves to found the state on man's authority alone. David Ben Gurion proposed a compromise that only the words of "Tzur Yisrael" be cited in the document. It may have been a compromise in wording. Still, it was not a compromise in substance: even Israel's most secular founders recognized that a Jewish state proclaiming its own legitimacy needed some anchor beyond itself. And Rabbi Maimon, unwilling to let the moment pass without full acknowledgment, added "b'ezrat Hashem" beside his own signature, and stood trembling to recite Shehecheyanu — making certain that G-d was present at Israel's founding in fact, if not fully in the text. Two modern stories — one American, one Israeli — show societies grappling with this very truth, each in its own way insisting that a nation's laws cannot stand on a purely secular foundation. This week's parsha, Shoftim, lays out the blueprint for Jewish governance — judges, officers, and even a king. But buried in the laws of monarchy is a striking requirement: before a king may rule, he must write his own sefer Torah and keep it with him "kol yemei chayav" — all the days of his life — reading from it constantly "l'vilti rum levavo me'echav," so that his heart does not grow haughty above his brethren (Devarim 17:18-20). The message is unmistakable: government cannot be divorced from faith. A king is not permitted to rule by pure political power, military strength, or personal will. His authority is only legitimate when it flows from, and remains bound to, the word of God. Remove the Torah scroll from his side, and what remains is not a king — just a man with an army. Shoftim's requirement that the king carry his own sefer Torah teaches the same lesson these two stories illustrate from opposite ends of history and geography: leadership untethered from Torah, from G-d, inevitably drifts toward self-worship. Whether through a monument in a courthouse or a phrase etched into a declaration of statehood, both stories reflect an enduring instinct — one the Torah codified thousands of years earlier — that no government, no society, and no leader can sustain justice, humility, or true authority while divorced from faith in Hashem. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

A Time to See

The dog days of summer are thankfully coming to an end. "Dog days of summer" refers to the hottest, most sluggish stretch of summer. The traditional dates of this season, per the Old Farmer's Almanac, run July 3 to August 11. Many states, including Florida, begin their school season in mid-August, and for many parents, it’s a moment not too soon! Another season that begins this coming week is the season of Elul. This is the month before Rosh Hashanah and is traditionally a time of reflection and introspection. ​ It can be hard to get into the headspace of Elul, especially as the rest of the world is still caught up in trips to the beach, time in the pool, and relaxing vacations. The messages of Elul can feel disconnected for us, as a call to reflect and introspect is not something that gets us excited right now. Furthermore, we might wonder what difference it makes if we get engaged in the season of Elul, considering that most people around don't have spiritual reflection at the top of their to-do list. ​ There is a powerful insight based on the first word of this week's parsha, which incidentally is the name of the parsha, ראה or Re’eh. The literal translation of ראה is “see,” but that does not capture the meaning. Hebrew grammar is more precise than English, where there is a different word for seeing depending on whether you're addressing an individual or a group. If you are addressing an individual, you would say ראה. If one is addressing a group of people, the correct word choice would be ראו. The latter part of the verse is encouraging us to look at the important choices we make. ​ The larger message is that the Torah is addressing us in our responsibility as individuals. It’s so easy for one to second-guess the impact he can have as an individual, as there are so many others who can be engaged or make a difference. The Talmud teaches us that one should view oneself as having the same amount of assets and liabilities in the spiritual realm. Additionally, we should view the entire world as having equal amounts of assets and liabilities on our spiritual spreadsheets. If one individual does just one Mitzvah, he can tilt the entire world in the right direction. Unfortunately, the opposite is true as well. ​ We begin the month of Elul this coming week, and it’s a call for reflection and introspection as we begin to blow the shofar every weekday morning. It’s much easier in the short term to ignore the call. Let's make the courageous choice to answer the call and, as our Parsha teaches us, to open our eyes and finally “see” what’s in front of us. Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Moses: America's Unseen Founding Father

Long before George Washington crossed the Delaware or Thomas Jefferson drafted the Declaration, another figure had already shaped the American imagination: Moshe Rabbeinu, otherwise known to the world simply as Moses. When the Pilgrims fled England in 1620, they cast themselves as the Israelites escaping Pharaoh, and King James as the tyrant they left behind. That founding metaphor — a chosen people crossing water into a promised land — became the template through which generations of Americans understood their own story. The Puritans read the Mayflower Compact as their Sinai covenant. Patriots recast King George III as Pharaoh. Enslaved Americans found in the Exodus the deepest expression of their own hope for liberation. Moses was not simply a biblical figure imported into American rhetoric; he became, as historian Bruce Feiler argued in his book America’s Prophet, the nation's true spiritual founding father — its founding narrative before it had a founding document. This inheritance is not just rhetorical. It is carved into the architecture of American government itself. In the U.S. House Chamber, twenty-three marble reliefs of history's great lawgivers ring the gallery above the Speaker's podium — from Hammurabi to Blackstone. Twenty-two are sculpted in profile. Only one faces forward: Moshe , positioned at the center of the north wall, with every other lawgiver angled to look toward him. Each time the Speaker rises to address the House, Moses looks directly down on the chamber where American law is made. The Supreme Court tells the same story in a different key. On the building's east pediment, Moses sits at the center of a sculptural group titled "Justice the Guardian of Liberty.” Inside, on the courtroom's south wall frieze, Moses appears again among a procession of lawgivers, this time holding tablets inscribed with Hebrew text. The exterior tablets are left blank — a symbolic gesture — while the interior tablets bear script, positioned where the Justices themselves sit in judgment. Together, these choices reveal something Americans have rarely stated outright but have consistently built into stone: that the nation's understanding of liberty is inseparable from its understanding of law, and that both trace back to the same figure who led a people out of bondage and then handed them commandments to live by. The word Moshe does not appear in the Constitution. But he stands, quite literally, over the rooms where it is interpreted and applied. Recently, Mike Huckabee, the American Ambassador to Israel, stated, "without Israel, without the Jewish foundation, there would not be an America.” He added, “if the United States forgets its heritage and the G-d of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob," it will not remain the great nation it has become.” As America celebrates its semiquincentennial anniversary, there are voices and political winds that are attempting to detach America from its foundation that was inspired by Moshe leading the Jews as a free people to its promised land. At this inflection point of the country's history, we hope and pray that America doesn't lose its way. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

A New Generation of Elected Officials

Everyone remembers where they were on Shimini Atzeres/Simchas Torah that coincided with October 7, 2023, when they heard the news. As Yom Tov progressed, we kept hearing bits and pieces of news that grew worse by the minute. The unfathomable news of mass murder, rape, and hostages kidnapped from their own homes felt like a horror movie that couldn’t be true. Not everyone was sad that day or in the days to follow. On October 8, there was a pro-Palestinian rally in Times Square that celebrated the heinous attacks by Hamas. One of the participants at the rally was wearing a keffiyeh and standing next to a poster declaring “Zionism is genocide” was chanting “resistance is justified.” This week, after the mayor of NYC endorsed her, the individual won the Democratic primary in New York's 13th Congressional District and is nearly certain to become a Member of Congress in the upcoming November midterms. With all the problems the people of NYC are facing, it appears that in certain districts running on a Pro Hamas platform is the ticket to victory. ​ It was just about 250 years ago that President George Washington sent his famous letters to the Jewish community. In these letters, he assured the Jewish community that the new United States would guarantee religious liberty, stating it gave "to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance." This past week, a Jewish Member of Congress went to a coffee shop. After he left, the management realized who he was and announced that they regretted selling coffee to a “genocide enabler.” ​ In this week's parsha, we read once again about the interesting gentile, Bilaam, who had spiritual powers and prophetic experiences. Bilaam was a rabid anti-semite and wanted to deliver a devastating curse on the Jews as they traveled towards the Land of Israel. G-d thwarted his evil intentions and compelled him to offer kind words and blessings to our ancestors. In one of his forced blessings, he said, הֶן־עָם֙ לְבָדָ֣ד יִשְׁכֹּ֔ן וּבַגּוֹיִ֖ם לֹ֥א יִתְחַשָּֽׁב׃. Translation: “There is a people (Jews) that dwells apart and is not reckoned among the nations.” The practical application is that the Jewish People have an (unofficial) set of rules that don’t apply to anyone else. No nation or people have the rules of war that are expected of Israel. For the most part, this unfair and biased double standard is based on ancient hatred for Jews. This hatred has ebbed and flowed for over 3,300 years since we accepted the eternal covenant at Mt. Sinai. Many nations and peoples still have not forgiven us for becoming the chosen nation. For the last 250 years, from George Washington to today, with some exceptions, America has been a bastion of peace and stability. We are now living in a time where there are unabashed Hamas supporters who are elected to prominent mayoral and congressional positions. Whether this is a blip on the radar or a worrisome sign of the future remains unknown. What is clear is that Bilaam's promise that we are a “people who dwell in solitude” is very much a harsh reality in 2026. The story of the Jewish journey in the United States, and what the future holds for us, is very much an open and unsettling question. ​ Have a peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

One True Ally

The mighty have fallen. This phrase comes to mind after the United States abruptly changed its positions and signed a Memorandum of Understanding with the Islamic Republic of Iran. It was sad to see America so outnegotiated by the Iranians after so much battlefield success. Many have pointed out that an MOU is merely a term sheet and not a long-term agreement. Nonetheless, the Trump Administration’s sudden change of direction doesn’t inspire confidence that the final agreement will look much different. There are so many alarming layers to the MOU, it’s hard to know where to begin. America gave away all of its leverage by revealing its desperation to reopen the Strait of Hormuz. The Iranians succeeded in getting the USA to agree that Lebanon would be part of the ceasefire. Essentially, this gives an opportunity to Hezbollah to rearm for its forever genocidal campaign against Israel. It's inevitable that Hezbollah violates this ceasefire, and Israel is handcuffed by America to retaliate (as happened this week already). The MOU makes no mention of ballistic missiles (POTUS said that Iran should be allowed to have them) or supporting terror proxies. It also facilitates the establishment of a $300 billion reconstruction fund for Iran. Although America will not officially contribute to this, it will waive sanctions to allow this fund to be established. The regime that continues to chant “Death to America” and “Death to Israel” is unlikely to use this stash of cash for parks and hospitals, as its nefarious intentions have not disappeared with this version of the ceasefire. Israel and its leadership were ridiculed almost daily this week by the President and Vice President. To add insult to injury, the VP attacked Israeli cabinet ministers for criticizing the controversial MOU. He lectured them that they have no better friend than the current president and should just shut up and be grateful for any assistance they received. (The current budget for Israel's military is about $45 billion, and the USA contributes $3.8 billion, which is about 8%.) ​ After about 48 hours of feeling the gut punch, I thought there may be a silver lining in this after all. The Talmud teaches that in the days leading up to the Messianic Era, the Jewish People will realize they have no one to rely on except our Father in Heaven. In recent years, especially after October 7, the hatred and hostility from more and more nations toward Israel and the Jewish people have increased. The last best friend of the Jewish State is the United States. This was an unconditional friendship, practically a covenant, that stood for its shared values. The events of this past week have shown that friendship is now conditional and nuanced. The Vice President himself, as he blitzed through TV interviews, has said multiple times that America is not afraid to diverge from Israel when it feels so. ​ King David writes in Tehilim/Psalms אַל־תִּבְטְח֥וּ בִנְדִיבִ֑ים בְּבֶן־אָדָ֓ם  שֶׁ֤אֵ֖ין ל֥וֹ תְשׁוּעָֽה. Translation: “Put not your trust in the great, in mortals who cannot save.” As mortals continue to disappoint, the reaction is not to seek another supportive leader or party. This is a time to look upward, realizing we have only one true ally—an eternal, unconditional, and covenantal alliance, not subject to political changes. There is a blessing in the daily Amidah: כִּי לִישׁוּעָתְ֒ךָ קִוִּֽינוּ כָּל הַיּוֹם—“We hope all day for Your deliverance.” It is time to not just say the words but cry them from the depths of our souls. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Fork in the Road of History

Pandering for votes during an election campaign is as old as democracy itself. Nonetheless, it’s pretty jarring to see this upfront and in the open. Political candidates may sell out their most cherished values in exchange for a fleeting moment of perceived popularity. As the moral compass of our society at large continues to hit new lows, I am continually surprised by the level of pandering. Recently, a Jewish New Yorker running for Congress paid a visit to a mosque in NYC. The Imam of that mosque had in the past expressed that the Holocaust had been “greatly exaggerated” and, after the attacks of October 7, had praised Hamas. This individual, who shall not be named, after reciting verses from the Koran in broken Arabic, declared that “I believe, as a proud Jewish New Yorker, that Israel’s genocide in Gaza is a desecration, is a violation of the understanding that everyone is created in G-d’s image.” This individual is currently leading in the polls and appears to be the next congressman in a NYC district with a strong Jewish population. ​ This individual is just one of many who seek to curry favor with others, and goes out of their way to explain that they are not anti-Jewish but rather anti Zionist. Their version of Judaism apparently does not have the Land of Israel as part of its article of faith. Unfortunately, this is not a new phenomenon. In 1845, there was a major rabbinic conference of the Reform movement in Germany, in which Samuel Holdheim declared, “Berlin is our Jerusalem.” Holdheim, a leader of the Reform movement, wanted to avoid charges of dual loyalty. The Jewish commitment to sovereignty in Israel brought into question the allegiance of Jews to the Germanic state, where they were striving to be citizens. (We see from history how well this worked out.) In this week's parsha, we study the Parsha in which a group of Tribal Leaders intentionally demoralize the Jewish population about their excitement to enter the Land of Israel and settle there. They even went so far as to say they wanted to appoint a new leader who would take them back to Egypt. I imagine they did not intend to abandon the observance of the Torah and Mitzvos in Egypt. They argued that they would continue observing Shabbos, keeping kosher, etc. They just wanted nothing to do with the Land of Israel. Essentially, they were the first anti Zionists who believed that Judaism can exist independently of the Jewish connection to its ancestral homeland. The aftermath of the episodes was not pretty. 3,300 years later, our generation is confronting a conundrum very similar to the one it faced. In an effort to blend in nicely with Western society, we can renounce our emotional connection to Zion and the Land of Israel. Or, despite the increasing headwinds, we can make the choice to continue believing that Judaism and a Jew's emotional connection to its ancestral homeland are at the very core of our identity. At this most important fork in the road of history, we can ill afford to blow the moment. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch