Dear Friends, 

If you’ve been on the road lately, you know we’ve entered that sacred Chicagoland season, Construction. Orange cones have bloomed like spring flowers. Roads that were perfectly fine last week are now closed “until further notice.” And just when you think you’ve found a shortcut, surprise, another detour. It’s the Midwest’s rite of passage, and no GPS can truly prepare you. 

We joke that Chicago has two seasons: winter and construction. But maybe we should add a third: reflection. Because as aggravating as it is to sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Kennedy, or to be rerouted through five school zones and three Starbucks drive-thrus, it all makes you pause. And this week’s double portion, B’har–B’chukotai, invites us to do the same.  

In B’har, we learn about the Sabbatical year and the Jubilee year, concepts that feel wildly countercultural in today’s fast-paced world. Every seven years, the land gets to rest. No planting, no harvesting, just trust. Trust in the earth’s ability to replenish. Trust in your neighbors to share. And every 50 years? Debts are canceled, land returns to its original owners, and society gets a divine reset. It’s not just economic reform, it’s spiritual realignment. 

In B’chukotai, the Torah lays out the spiritual consequences of our choices. Follow the commandments, and the rewards flow: abundance, peace, security. But ignore them, and we face hardship, exile, and disconnection. It’s not punishment, it’s reality. When we stray from our values, the path gets rough. When we lose sight of community, the road ahead becomes harder to navigate. 

So what does all this have to do with the Dan Ryan at 5:30 p.m.? 

A lot, actually. 

Both Torah and traffic remind us that progress isn’t always quick. Sometimes, the best path isn’t the fastest one. Growth takes time. Repair requires patience. Rest is sacred. And just like those construction signs that promise “Better Roads Ahead,” B’har-B’chukotai reminds us that when we do the work, when we rest intentionally, build justly, and stay committed to our values, we’re laying the foundation for a stronger, more compassionate future. 

So the next time you’re rerouted off Lake Shore Drive or parked in place on the Tri-State, take a moment. Breathe. Reflect. You might not get there faster, but maybe you’ll get there wiser. 

Shabbat Shalom, 

Danny Glassman