The people of Israel stand on the eve of Rosh Hashanah, standing before their lives, before their God, before the long history of their people. The Torah opens: “You are standing this day, all of you, before the Lord your God” (Deut. 29:9). The word “Nitzavim” does not simply mean “standing.” It conveys stability, uprightness, and a moral stance. The Torah presents us with a profound call: serving God is not kneeling or bowing before an idol, but standing tall with inner freedom, with responsibility for justice and goodness.
In the past, people bowed down to idols of stone and wood. The prophets mocked this futility: “Half of it he burned in the fire… and the rest of it he made into a god” (Isaiah 44). Today we do not bow to statues, but to flags. Again—a piece of matter, a scrap of cloth—becomes the focus of sanctity, a symbol untouchable and unquestionable. Often desecrating a flag is seen as more serious than harming a living person.
And here lies the problem. When the flag shifts from representing values to becoming an end in itself, we forget the essence of justice, equality, and freedom it is meant to symbolize. Bowing down to a symbol can lead us to justify violence, exclusion, or wars in the name of “honoring the flag.” Instead of asking whether we are faithful to values, we ask whether we are faithful to a piece of cloth.
The Torah invites us to a different path. Not to bow down, but to stand upright. Not to nullify ourselves before matter, but to remain steadfast in front of it. More than that—the Torah reminds us what the only true “image” worthy of honor is: “For in the image of God Was humankind made.” (Genesis 9:6). Humanity itself—every man and woman—carries within them the divine image. From this derives human dignity, human rights, and our duty to protect them with all our strength.
A flag can be an important symbol, but it is never holier than the human being. It is a tool, an instrument. When we stand upright, we remind ourselves that life and freedom are more sacred than fabric.
The only “idol” permitted to us is the image of God within each person—and every other bowing, whether before stone or before cloth, is a return to the golden calf in modern garb.
These days, as we all stand before God, the Torah calls us back to the core: to moral uprightness, to honoring human beings created in the divine image, to social responsibility, to peace. Not to bow before symbols, but to stand tall as free people, as a nation that understands that holiness is not found in the colors of the flag, but in the human heart.
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Rabbi Haim Nahon is an educator and an Israeli rabbi. Social justice and peace activist. Born and raised in Jerusalem, he currently lives in Jaffa and teaches in the Democratic school there.
In the past, people bowed down to idols of stone and wood. The prophets mocked this futility: “Half of it he burned in the fire… and the rest of it he made into a god” (Isaiah 44). Today we do not bow to statues, but to flags. Again—a piece of matter, a scrap of cloth—becomes the focus of sanctity, a symbol untouchable and unquestionable. Often desecrating a flag is seen as more serious than harming a living person.
And here lies the problem. When the flag shifts from representing values to becoming an end in itself, we forget the essence of justice, equality, and freedom it is meant to symbolize. Bowing down to a symbol can lead us to justify violence, exclusion, or wars in the name of “honoring the flag.” Instead of asking whether we are faithful to values, we ask whether we are faithful to a piece of cloth.
The Torah invites us to a different path. Not to bow down, but to stand upright. Not to nullify ourselves before matter, but to remain steadfast in front of it. More than that—the Torah reminds us what the only true “image” worthy of honor is: “For in the image of God Was humankind made.” (Genesis 9:6). Humanity itself—every man and woman—carries within them the divine image. From this derives human dignity, human rights, and our duty to protect them with all our strength.
A flag can be an important symbol, but it is never holier than the human being. It is a tool, an instrument. When we stand upright, we remind ourselves that life and freedom are more sacred than fabric.
The only “idol” permitted to us is the image of God within each person—and every other bowing, whether before stone or before cloth, is a return to the golden calf in modern garb.
These days, as we all stand before God, the Torah calls us back to the core: to moral uprightness, to honoring human beings created in the divine image, to social responsibility, to peace. Not to bow before symbols, but to stand tall as free people, as a nation that understands that holiness is not found in the colors of the flag, but in the human heart.
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Rabbi Haim Nahon is an educator and an Israeli rabbi. Social justice and peace activist. Born and raised in Jerusalem, he currently lives in Jaffa and teaches in the Democratic school there.