Tucked away toward the end of this week’s double portion, Behar-Bechukkotai, is a striking image: if the people of Israel fail to give the land its sabbath rests (known as shemittah, the sabbatical year every seventh year), the land will eventually rest anyway, even if that means through the people’s absence.
At first glance, it’s a stern warning. But it also expresses a profound idea about the natural world – and human life.
The Torah is suggesting that neglected cycles and boundaries don’t disappear – they are only delayed. Just as the land will eventually rest if overworked, people, too, cannot push endlessly without consequence. Ignore the need for pause, reflection, or ethical limits, and life has a way of reasserting them – sometimes abruptly.
In our modern world, we see this pattern everywhere. The rise of burnout in high-pressure careers. Environmental crises triggered by overexploitation. The growing awareness that success without balance is unsustainable. What the Torah described in ancient agricultural terms resonates powerfully today.
