Parshas Matos-Masei: Shabbos Rosh Chodesh Av
A New Moon in the Middle of the Map
Closing the book of Bamidbar.
Opening the month of Av.
That’s where this Shabbos lands.
The parsha ends the desert journey.
The calendar begins the month of mourning.
The moon disappears. And then returns.
And Shabbos comes in like it always does.. on time, whether we’re ready or not.
Matos starts with vows.
Which sounds technical, until you remember what a vow really is.
It’s a word that reshapes the world.
We forget how powerful speech is.
How one sentence can bind, bless, or bruise.
How silence can carry weight too.
Masei is a list.
A recounting of every stop the people made in the desert.
Closing the book of Bamidbar.
Opening the month of Av.
That’s where this Shabbos lands.
The parsha ends the desert journey.
The calendar begins the month of mourning.
The moon disappears. And then returns.
And Shabbos comes in like it always does.. on time, whether we’re ready or not.
Matos starts with vows.
Which sounds technical, until you remember what a vow really is.
It’s a word that reshapes the world.
We forget how powerful speech is.
How one sentence can bind, bless, or bruise.
How silence can carry weight too.
But the Torah doesn’t cancel careless vows.
It makes us sit with them, out loud, with witnesses, with care.
Because teshuva isn’t meant to be faced alone.
It asks us to take responsibility, with presence, not pretense.
Masei is a list.
A recounting of every stop the people made in the desert.
All 42 of them.
On a day the world prepares to mourn,
Hashem sent them both.
That’s not just comfort. That’s instruction.
There’s always something being born.
Even in Av.
Even now.
So that’s where we are.
In between promises and paths.
Between exile and redemption.
Between the mourning that’s coming…
We’ve reached the end of the book.
We’ve named the stops. We’ve made it this far.
Now we move on to new beginnings.
To Stop 43.
This one’s for the Torah. And for me.
I only started writing weekly with Parshas Bamidbar.
So this is my first full book.
First time making it to the end.
Not just learning—showing up.
Letting the words rise. Letting them feed something.
And I’m still here.
May this Shabbos strengthen you,
Some holy. Some hard.
Some nights we begged to turn back.
Some days we didn’t even realize were part of the journey.
But none are skipped.
Each one is named.
Because every step counts.. even the ones we’d rather forget.
That’s Torah.
It doesn’t just celebrate the promised land.
It tells the whole story.
Even the wandering gets written in.
Some nights we begged to turn back.
Some days we didn’t even realize were part of the journey.
But none are skipped.
Each one is named.
Because every step counts.. even the ones we’d rather forget.
That’s Torah.
It doesn’t just celebrate the promised land.
It tells the whole story.
Even the wandering gets written in.
With it comes Rosh Chodesh Av.
The smallest moon.
The saddest month.
But it begins not with destruction, not with fasting,
with a birth.
A sliver of moonlight.
A new cycle of days.
And this year, it falls on Shabbos.
Shabbos doesn’t fix pain.
But it lets us hold it differently.
It slows things down. It reminds us we’re not alone.
Not everything broken needs to be glued back together right away.
Some things just need to be held.
And for me, there’s one more layer.
The smallest moon.
The saddest month.
But it begins not with destruction, not with fasting,
with a birth.
A sliver of moonlight.
A new cycle of days.
And this year, it falls on Shabbos.
Shabbos doesn’t fix pain.
But it lets us hold it differently.
It slows things down. It reminds us we’re not alone.
Not everything broken needs to be glued back together right away.
Some things just need to be held.
And for me, there’s one more layer.
Rosh Chodesh Av is the birthday of my Bubby Chein.
And it’s also the birthday of my wife.
Two women who carry strength in different ways.
One who helped shape the path I came from.
One who walks with me toward the path we’re still making.
And it’s also the birthday of my wife.
Two women who carry strength in different ways.
One who helped shape the path I came from.
One who walks with me toward the path we’re still making.
Both reminding me that strength can be soft,
and becoming is allowed to take time.
Hashem sent them both.
That’s not just comfort. That’s instruction.
There’s always something being born.
Even in Av.
Even now.
So that’s where we are.
In between promises and paths.
Between exile and redemption.
Between the mourning that’s coming…
and the light that’s already begun.
Some weeks we run forward.
Some weeks we fall apart.
And some weeks, like this one, we just stand still,
right where we are, and name it holy.
Some weeks we run forward.
Some weeks we fall apart.
And some weeks, like this one, we just stand still,
right where we are, and name it holy.
We’ve named the stops. We’ve made it this far.
Now we move on to new beginnings.
To Stop 43.
This one’s for the Torah. And for me.
I only started writing weekly with Parshas Bamidbar.
So this is my first full book.
First time making it to the end.
Not just learning—showing up.
Letting the words rise. Letting them feed something.
And I’m still here.
May this Shabbos strengthen you,
whatever stop you’re on along your map.
חזק חזק ונתחזק
With love,
With love,
Berke 🩵