The Descent That Lifts Us Higher
Mosaic Express | March 06, 2026
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The Descent That Lifts Us Higher

Mosaic Express | March 06, 2026

THE DESCENT THAT LIFTS US HIGHER

INSIGHT & INSPIRATION
By Rabbi Moishe New

KI SISA AND THE POWER OF TESHUVAH

The opening words and name of this week’s Torah portion are uplifting: “Ki Sisa” — “when you lift up the heads of the children of Israel.” The meaning refers to counting the people — a census — via their half-shekel contributions. Significantly, the Torah describes counting the Jewish people not as numbering them, but as raising them up.

Yet when we read the parsha, we encounter something surprising. The majority of the portion is not about elevation at all. It is about the sin of the Golden Calf, one of the most painful spiritual collapses in Jewish history.

Only weeks after hearing the voice of G-d at Mount Sinai, the Jewish people fall into idolatry. Moshe shatters the tablets. The relationship between G-d and the Jewish people appears to be in crisis.

So the question almost asks itself: How can a parsha called “when you lift up” revolve around such a terrible descent?

The answer reveals a profound Torah principle: sometimes the greatest ascent happens precisely through a descent.

LIFTING THE HEAD

The phrase “lift up the heads” refers to the human mind. The head represents intellect, understanding, and awareness. It is through the mind that human beings grow and expand their horizons.

But the Torah is hinting at something deeper. The goal is not only that a person elevate his intellect. Rather, the intellect itself must be lifted.

The human mind naturally operates within limits. It analyzes, categorizes, and separates things. Because of that, a person would logically conclude that some parts of life express G-dliness while other parts are distant from holiness.

Following that logic, one might assume that the path to spirituality is to avoid the world—remain in purely spiritual spaces and stay away from the confusion and coarseness of material life.

Indeed, many spiritual traditions adopt precisely that approach.

But Judaism says something far more radical: every aspect of existence can express the truth of G-d’s being.

THE WORLD IS NOT SEPARATE FROM G-D

The Torah describes Avraham spreading awareness of the Creator and proclaiming the name of “Kel Olam.” The wording is deliberate. It does not say “G-d of the world,” which would imply that G-d and the world are separate entities. Instead it suggests something deeper: the world itself ultimately reflects G-dliness. Nothing exists outside His presence or beyond His purpose.

But this raises an obvious and difficult question. If everything ultimately expresses G-dliness, what about evil? What about sin? How can something that appears so distant from holiness be part of a divine plan?

WHEN THE MIND CANNOT UNDERSTAND

From the perspective of human logic, evil and sanctity seem completely incompatible. The mind cannot easily imagine how they could intersect. But what the human mind cannot conceive, G-d can.

Our Sages, quoting from Tehillim, refer to the sin of Adam in the Garden of Eden in startling language. They describe it as an “awesome intrigue devised against man.” This does not, Heaven forbid, mean that sin is good or permitted. Sin is wrong and destructive. But when a person falls and then returns to G-d through teshuvah, something extraordinary happens. The fall awakens depths within the soul that would otherwise remain hidden.

THE UNIQUE POWER OF TESHUVAH

Our sages teach a remarkable principle: “In the place where baalei teshuvah — the penitent — stand, even the completely righteous cannot stand.”

Why would someone who stumbled spiritually reach a place higher than someone who never fell? Because the righteous person may not have had to struggle deeply against the pull of wrongdoing. But the baal teshuvah had descended to darkness and yet longed to reconnect with G-d. That yearning comes from a profound place within the soul.

Chassidic thought explains how sincere teshuvah transforms even deliberate sins into merits. That’s because it was the sin itself — the disconnect — that is the catalyst that awakes an irrepressible and restless yearning to be whole which ultimately manifests in a deeper relationship with G-d.

When a person reaches that depth of the soul—the place that is truly “a part of G-d above”—they begin to understand something extraordinary: nothing is truly separate from Him. Even the lowest places can be transformed.

A LESSON FROM HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS

We can understand this concept through human relationships. Imagine a friendship or a marriage built on mutual affection and trust. Everything flows smoothly because the two people enjoy each other’s company. Then something happens. Trust is broken. The relationship seems shattered. Logically, the bond should end. The past cannot simply be erased. And yet sometimes, through sincere remorse and forgiveness, something deeper emerges. The relationship is rebuilt, but not merely restored—it becomes stronger than before. Previously the connection was based on enjoyment and compatibility. Now it becomes rooted in devotion and commitment. It reaches a depth that may never have been discovered if the crisis had never occurred.

That is the power of teshuvah. The descent forces a person to reach deeper than before, and the repair reveals a bond that surpasses the original.

THE THREE STAGES IN THE PARSHA

With this idea in mind, the structure of the parsha becomes clear. First, the Torah declares the goal: “lift up the heads.” The Jewish people are meant to reach a connection with G-d beyond ordinary limits. Next comes the tragedy of the Golden Calf, representing the deepest spiritual fall. But that fall is not the end. It leads to teshuvah, and teshuvah draws down something even higher—the revelation of the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy, an unlimited expression of G-d’s compassion. Finally, Moshe descends with the second tablets, and the Torah describes his face shining with divine light. The physical world itself becomes a vessel for G-dliness. The message is powerful: the descent was not an interruption of the journey upward—it was part of the journey.

THE PATTERN OF ASCENT

This principle appears everywhere in life. A rocket rises by pushing downward with tremendous force. An arrow travels forward only after being drawn backward. A person grows stronger only by pushing against resistance. In the same way, true spiritual growth emerges only from challenge and struggle. Ki Sisa teaches that the purpose of descent is the inevitable ascent. The Torah promised that at the end of exile we will do Teshuvah and be redeemed.

And that is why the parsha describing the Golden Calf can be called “when you lift up.” Because the highest elevation is reached precisely through the fall that came before it.

THE DESCENT THAT LIFTS US HIGHER

INSIGHT & INSPIRATION
By Rabbi Moishe New

KI SISA AND THE POWER OF TESHUVAH

The opening words and name of this week’s Torah portion are uplifting: “Ki Sisa” — “when you lift up the heads of the children of Israel.” The meaning refers to counting the people — a census — via their half-shekel contributions. Significantly, the Torah describes counting the Jewish people not as numbering them, but as raising them up.

Yet when we read the parsha, we encounter something surprising. The majority of the portion is not about elevation at all. It is about the sin of the Golden Calf, one of the most painful spiritual collapses in Jewish history.

Only weeks after hearing the voice of G-d at Mount Sinai, the Jewish people fall into idolatry. Moshe shatters the tablets. The relationship between G-d and the Jewish people appears to be in crisis.

So the question almost asks itself: How can a parsha called “when you lift up” revolve around such a terrible descent?

The answer reveals a profound Torah principle: sometimes the greatest ascent happens precisely through a descent.

LIFTING THE HEAD

The phrase “lift up the heads” refers to the human mind. The head represents intellect, understanding, and awareness. It is through the mind that human beings grow and expand their horizons.

But the Torah is hinting at something deeper. The goal is not only that a person elevate his intellect. Rather, the intellect itself must be lifted.

The human mind naturally operates within limits. It analyzes, categorizes, and separates things. Because of that, a person would logically conclude that some parts of life express G-dliness while other parts are distant from holiness.

Following that logic, one might assume that the path to spirituality is to avoid the world—remain in purely spiritual spaces and stay away from the confusion and coarseness of material life.

Indeed, many spiritual traditions adopt precisely that approach.

But Judaism says something far more radical: every aspect of existence can express the truth of G-d’s being.

THE WORLD IS NOT SEPARATE FROM G-D

The Torah describes Avraham spreading awareness of the Creator and proclaiming the name of “Kel Olam.” The wording is deliberate. It does not say “G-d of the world,” which would imply that G-d and the world are separate entities. Instead it suggests something deeper: the world itself ultimately reflects G-dliness. Nothing exists outside His presence or beyond His purpose.

But this raises an obvious and difficult question. If everything ultimately expresses G-dliness, what about evil? What about sin? How can something that appears so distant from holiness be part of a divine plan?

WHEN THE MIND CANNOT UNDERSTAND

From the perspective of human logic, evil and sanctity seem completely incompatible. The mind cannot easily imagine how they could intersect. But what the human mind cannot conceive, G-d can.

Our Sages, quoting from Tehillim, refer to the sin of Adam in the Garden of Eden in startling language. They describe it as an “awesome intrigue devised against man.” This does not, Heaven forbid, mean that sin is good or permitted. Sin is wrong and destructive. But when a person falls and then returns to G-d through teshuvah, something extraordinary happens. The fall awakens depths within the soul that would otherwise remain hidden.

THE UNIQUE POWER OF TESHUVAH

Our sages teach a remarkable principle: “In the place where baalei teshuvah — the penitent — stand, even the completely righteous cannot stand.”

Why would someone who stumbled spiritually reach a place higher than someone who never fell? Because the righteous person may not have had to struggle deeply against the pull of wrongdoing. But the baal teshuvah had descended to darkness and yet longed to reconnect with G-d. That yearning comes from a profound place within the soul.

Chassidic thought explains how sincere teshuvah transforms even deliberate sins into merits. That’s because it was the sin itself — the disconnect — that is the catalyst that awakes an irrepressible and restless yearning to be whole which ultimately manifests in a deeper relationship with G-d.

When a person reaches that depth of the soul—the place that is truly “a part of G-d above”—they begin to understand something extraordinary: nothing is truly separate from Him. Even the lowest places can be transformed.

A LESSON FROM HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS

We can understand this concept through human relationships. Imagine a friendship or a marriage built on mutual affection and trust. Everything flows smoothly because the two people enjoy each other’s company. Then something happens. Trust is broken. The relationship seems shattered. Logically, the bond should end. The past cannot simply be erased. And yet sometimes, through sincere remorse and forgiveness, something deeper emerges. The relationship is rebuilt, but not merely restored—it becomes stronger than before. Previously the connection was based on enjoyment and compatibility. Now it becomes rooted in devotion and commitment. It reaches a depth that may never have been discovered if the crisis had never occurred.

That is the power of teshuvah. The descent forces a person to reach deeper than before, and the repair reveals a bond that surpasses the original.

THE THREE STAGES IN THE PARSHA

With this idea in mind, the structure of the parsha becomes clear. First, the Torah declares the goal: “lift up the heads.” The Jewish people are meant to reach a connection with G-d beyond ordinary limits. Next comes the tragedy of the Golden Calf, representing the deepest spiritual fall. But that fall is not the end. It leads to teshuvah, and teshuvah draws down something even higher—the revelation of the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy, an unlimited expression of G-d’s compassion. Finally, Moshe descends with the second tablets, and the Torah describes his face shining with divine light. The physical world itself becomes a vessel for G-dliness. The message is powerful: the descent was not an interruption of the journey upward—it was part of the journey.

THE PATTERN OF ASCENT

This principle appears everywhere in life. A rocket rises by pushing downward with tremendous force. An arrow travels forward only after being drawn backward. A person grows stronger only by pushing against resistance. In the same way, true spiritual growth emerges only from challenge and struggle. Ki Sisa teaches that the purpose of descent is the inevitable ascent. The Torah promised that at the end of exile we will do Teshuvah and be redeemed.

And that is why the parsha describing the Golden Calf can be called “when you lift up.” Because the highest elevation is reached precisely through the fall that came before it.

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