The style and content of Parashat Kedoshim remind us immediately of an earlier reading: Parashat Mishpatim—back in the Book of Exodus, just after the revelation. Both parashiyyot are composed almost entirely of dense legal code: one law after another, for chapter after chapter. And both open with a framing statement naming a value category that characterizes the laws that follow.

With this structural similarity, the Torah places the two primary values named by the two codes—justice and holiness—into dialogue with one another. We see this in our parashah, whose initial focus is on holiness, but very quickly veers into justice. But the reverse process we can already see in Parashat Mishpatim, which begins with principles of justice, but eventually turns to holiness, with language that will anticipate Parashat Kedoshim.

For many of us, the past six months have been an education in powerlessness. From where I sit in America, I felt powerless hearing about the brutality and depravity of October 7. I felt powerless sitting comfortably in my home while day after day people were held hostage in underground darkness, uncared for and unseen. I felt powerless as the death toll of Palestinians civilians rose and Gaza’s population fell into immense suffering. I could do my one minute a day to call my representatives to demand an immediate release of those held hostage. I could check in with friends and family in Israel with messages of love. I could donate to organizations getting aid to Palestinian civilians in Gaza. But, at the end of the day, what power do I have to stop a war, free the hostages, and end the suffering of so many people? I feel powerless.

With the mishkan operational and the priesthood now in place, Parashat Aharei Mot begins with a description of the service that will be the pinnacle of that system: the Yom Kippur Avodah.