Parashat Nasso opens with a command: “Lift the heads of the sons of Gershon…” (Numbers 4:22). This lifting – nasso in Hebrew – is more than a census. It is a recognition of dignity, of role, of belonging within the broader tapestry of Israel’s sanctity. Each Levite family bore a distinct responsibility in transporting the Mishkan, God’s portable sanctuary. No role was too small, no burden unworthy of spiritual merit.
It is striking, then, that in our own generation there is a spiritual and communal burden that resonates deeply with Nasso’s message: the responsibility of standing tall in Jewish identity. At the Global Conference on Antisemitism in Jerusalem last month, Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis made a declaration that reverberates with this Torah reading: “If you are anti-Zionist, you are anti-Jewish.” His statement underscores what Nasso teaches implicitly: that identity, once embraced by covenant, must be borne with pride and courage. Zionism, he reminded his audience, is not simply political ideology – it is central to Jewish religious life and continuity. Denying the legitimacy of Jewish peoplehood and statehood is a form of modern-day denial of Jewish spiritual existence.
Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar, who organised that conference, warned that attempts to impose an arms embargo on Israel in its current state of conflict are, in effect, an effort to “annihilate the State of Israel”. These are heavy words. But Nasso gives us the language to understand them. The Levites did not have easy tasks. They carried the weight of the sanctuary—the physical vessels of holiness that allowed the divine presence to dwell among the people. Likewise, defending Jewish sovereignty and security is no less a sacred burden today, and a heavy one at that. When security is threatened under the guise of moral criticism, it is the equivalent of removing the sanctuary’s support beams. The house cannot stand.
Among the most moving sections of parashat Nasso is the priestly blessing—words recited to this day by Kohanim around the world: “May the Lord bless you and protect you…” (Numbers 6:24–26). That blessing is a spiritual shield. But the political and physical shield of Israel is no less essential. The portion concludes with the dedication of the altar by the twelve tribal leaders. Though their gifts were identical, each one is recorded separately in the Torah. This teaches the significance of individual expression in spiritual and material life. In a world where Jewish voices often feel drowned out, delegitimised, cancelled or gaslit, Nasso reminds us that every act of visible Jewish identity – each prayer, each word of support, each refusal to hide – is sacred and counts.
As we read parashat Nasso this Shabbat, we too must have the courage to lift our heads – nasso et rosh – with pride, bearing the burden and blessing of Jewish identity in a world that still tests its strength.
This piece is dedicated to the Alon Ohel Yellow Piano Project to raise awareness globally about the remaining hostages alive in captivity in Gaza
Rabbi Ariel Abel is a solicitor and army chaplain
