“I heard you the first time,” I might have said to family members who repeated instructions to me. Repetition can be both helpful and off-putting. Because the Torah is filled with repetition, especially in this week’s reading Vayakhel, I wondered about the value of repeating words, phrases, and instructions. Ultimately, repetition is a powerful tool—one that can be used for good or for ill.

Repetition helps us to remember. Beyond its utility, repeated information is often perceived as more truthful than new information. This finding is known as the illusory truth effect, and it occurs because repetition increases processing fluency. People learn to use processing fluency as a marker for truthfulness.

In the Jewish tradition, repetition serves a deeply ethical and spiritual purpose. The Torah reiterates commandments, moral lessons, and historical narratives to reinforce values and encourage righteous behavior. For example, the Ten Commandments appear twice—once in Exodus and again in Deuteronomy—underscoring their importance. In parshat Vayakhel, the weekly reading repeats the story of gathering gifts for building the mishkan and the construction plans. Repetition offers guidance toward the proper completion of holy tasks.  We repeat prayers and rituals, such as the Shema, reminding the faithful of their covenant with God. This use of repetition is meant not to manipulate, but to guide individuals toward a life of integrity, kindness, and devotion.

In contrast, modern politicians use repetition as a tool for influence, often prioritizing persuasion over truth. They employ slogans, talking points, and carefully crafted phrases to shape public opinion. While repetition is effective in gaining followers, truthfulness is often a casualty. Repeating simple words and phrases can convince us that they are true, even if they aren’t. When we hear something multiple times, we are inclined to accept it because we assume that others believe it as well. Moreover, familiar ideas feel more credible simply because they are easier to process.

However, repetition can backfire. When overused, it can make a message seem suspect, especially if listeners begin to recognize its manipulative intent. Studies also show that repetition is most effective when the audience is not paying close attention. This means that careful, critical thinkers are less likely to be swayed by weak arguments, no matter how many times they hear them.

In the Torah, repetition is a means of reinforcing ethical principles. Torah encourages deep reflection and moral action. In modern politics, however, repetition is a strategy to control narratives and shape public perception, sometimes at the expense of truth. Understanding how repetition functions in different contexts allows us to distinguish between guidance and manipulation. The challenge, then, is to engage actively with what we hear, to think critically, and to ensure that repetition serves to enlighten rather than deceive.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

וְעָשִׂ֥יתָ בִגְדֵי־קֹ֖דֶשׁ לְאַהֲרֹ֣ן אָחִ֑יךָ לְכָב֖וֹד וּלְתִפְאָֽרֶת׃

Make sacral vestments for your brother Aaron, for dignity and distinction.

Exodus 28:2

How you dress is of biblical importance. Yoga pants be damned, and sweatpants be cursed—what one chooses to wear is not merely a question of comfort. Rather, how you adorn your body speaks to the day you hope to have and the life you intend to lead, to dress for success. Before you rush out to refurbish your wardrobe, consider the dignity and adornment that suits the world before you.

Proper clothing can enhance a person’s stature. Moreover, we use clothing to express our intentions—formal wear to dignify special occasions and business suits to demonstrate importance. Clothing becomes costume when paired with certain meanings, just as ermine-trimmed capes denote monarchy and black robes impart justice.

Throughout history, clothing has served as a powerful emblem of political struggle and moral conviction. The American Revolutionaries, for instance, rejected British aristocratic fashions, opting instead for simple homespun garments to symbolize their commitment to independence and self-sufficiency. Similarly, the sans-culottes of the French Revolution deliberately discarded breeches, favoring long trousers to distinguish themselves from the aristocracy and express their solidarity with common citizens.

Aware of the power of clothing, Martin Luther King Jr. famously wore tailored dark suits each day, symbolizing the dignity of his work and the seriousness of his character. Intending to be arrested in Birmingham in 1963, King wore a workman’s outfit of blue jeans. Denim was a way for activists to show solidarity with the struggle for racial justice and equality. Similarly, members of the Black Panther Party in the 1960s adopted black berets and leather jackets as a uniform that exuded strength and resistance against systemic oppression.

Volodymyr Zelensky wears khaki green military-style clothing as a reminder that his country is engulfed in war. His choice of garb reminds the world that his country is under siege. The choice to forgo suits in favor of military attire underscores his role as a leader actively engaged in defense, not diplomacy.

Currently, clothing can serve to divide us, keeping neighbor from neighbor. Larry David drove this point home by wearing a red MAGA baseball cap on Curb Your Enthusiasm, Season 10. David wore the cap to avoid certain people in his liberal LA neighborhood, who he knew would shun him because of the cap. This illustrates how clothing can carry deep political and social meanings, marking individuals as allies or adversaries in contemporary discourse.

What are you trying to tell the world about yourself with the choices of what you wear? “Clothes do not make the man”, recorded Erasmus in 1500. As a theologian, Erasmus knew the biblical texts describing the clothing worn by the High Priest and his descendants. Yet, Erasmus, Shakespeare, and Mark Twain all famously encouraged us to look beneath the bespoke and the stylish to find a person’s true character. A good suit and tie can mask poor character, and athleisure wear can conceal good character. Rather, our readiness to repair the world should inform our fashion sense.

Clothing remains an outward manifestation of one’s values, allegiances, and convictions. The suffragettes’ white garments symbolized purity and moral righteousness in their quest for women’s voting rights. Modern protesters adopt specific colors—such as the blue ribbons worn over hearts aching to bring Israeli hostages home. Clothing can help to create unity and visibility in the face of oppression.

Combining the Torah’s teaching the priests’s clothing with the axiomatic knowledge of true character, clothing choices can demonstrate faithfulness and virtuosity.

As we struggle to sustain democracy, combat plutocracy, and confront hypocrisy, I suggest that we dress to reflect our objectives. Select clothing to set an intention for your day. Getting dressed in the morning, demonstrate that you are prepared to work for justice. Uncomfortable times not suited for relaxed clothing. We must use all our tools, including apparel, to stand up for justice, freedom, and democratic ideals. Let’s dress the part.

“Do not follow the majority to do wrong”

 לֹֽא־תִהְיֶ֥ה אַחֲרֵֽי־רַבִּ֖ים לְרָעֹ֑ת ׃  Exodus 23:2

Perhaps you remember hearing a parent warn you about the dangers of following the crowd. Children ask to  engage in an activity because “everybody else is doing it!” In response, parents ask: “If everyone jumps off a cliff, will you follow them?” Such warnings teach us that blindly following others can lead to disaster.

This principle is deeply embedded in Jewish thought and law. The Torah explicitly commands: “You shall not follow a multitude to do evil” (Exodus 23:2). This verse underscores a fundamental Jewish value—moral integrity over societal pressure. It is human nature to seek acceptance and avoid standing out, but Judaism teaches that true righteousness requires standing firm against wrongdoing, even when the majority goes astray.

The Jewish people are a nation that stands apart, often at great cost. The Torah refers to Abraham, the first patriarch, as “HaIvri,” meaning “the one who crossed over.” Abraham rejected the prevailing idolatry of his time and followed the path of ethical monotheism. He did not conform to the norms of his society; instead, he set a new moral standard.

Jewish history is replete with examples of individuals who refused to follow the crowd when it led away from righteousness. The prophets of Israel, from Elijah to Jeremiah, stood against corruption and moral decay, calling the people back to justice and truth, despite facing hostility and persecution.

The Talmud further reinforces the idea that truth is not determined by majority opinion. There was a debate between Rabbi Eliezer against many sages.  A heavenly voice declared Rabbi Eliezer correct, yet the majority ruled against him. Rabbi Joshua stood firm and declared, “It is not in heaven” (Bava Metzia 59b), emphasizing that Jewish law follows rigorous intellectual and moral debate rather than supernatural signs or popular opinion.

Modern psychology confirms the power of conformity, showing that people often adopt the views and behaviors of their peers, whether or not they align with their values. Yet Judaism encourages critical thinking and moral independence. The Jewish tradition of questioning, from the Passover Seder to yeshiva study, instills the courage to challenge norms and seek deeper truth.

Albert Einstein, a Jewish thinker and scientist, once said, “The person who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. The person who walks alone is likely to find himself in places no one has ever seen before.” This echoes the Jewish ideal of standing for truth, even in isolation.

Living by Jewish values often means resisting societal trends that conflict with Torah principles. Whether in matters of ethics, spirituality, or daily conduct, what is popular is not necessarily what is right. As Rabbi Israel Salanter, the founder of the Musar movement, taught, “The loudest voice is not always the voice of truth.”

We need to hear the message of Judaism at this time. Stand up for what you believe, even if you stand alone and against the crowd. In a world that pressures individuals to conform, the Torah says: do not follow the crowd to do evil. Instead, seek justice, pursue truth, and have the courage to stand firm in your convictions, even when standing alone.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

וִידֵ֤י מֹשֶׁה֙ כְּבֵדִ֔ים וַיִּקְחוּ־אֶ֛בֶן וַיָּשִׂ֥ימוּ תַחְתָּ֖יו וַיֵּ֣שֶׁב עָלֶ֑יהָ וְאַהֲרֹ֨ן וְח֜וּר תָּֽמְכ֣וּ בְיָדָ֗יו מִזֶּ֤ה אֶחָד֙ וּמִזֶּ֣ה אֶחָ֔ד וַיְהִ֥י יָדָ֛יו אֱמוּנָ֖ה עַד־בֹּ֥א הַשָּֽׁמֶשׁ׃

“But Moses’ hands grew heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur, one on each side, supported his hands; thus his hands remained steady until the sun had set.” Exodus 17:12

Sometimes, I find myself in the Torah. It helps that my name, Evan, is the Hebrew word for “stone.” Stones are versatile symbols in scripture—sometimes marking graves, other times serving as makeshift pillows. In this passage, the stone becomes a seat, enabling Moses to provide leadership despite his fatigue. I am a rock.

Among the many models of leadership offered in the Torah, the scene in Exodus 17:12 stands out for its emphasis on collaboration. As the Hebrews faced battle against the Amalekites, victory hinged on Moses’ raised hands. When he grew weary, a stone was placed under him so he could sit, and Aaron and Hur supported his hands. This collective effort ensured that Moses’ hands remained steady until the battle was won.

How do I see myself in this story? As an Evan—a stone—I imagine myself as the simple, likely rough seat that Moses relied upon. I am neither a throne nor a luxurious cushion but a humble, solid support found on a wilderness hillside. And yet, in this moment, I am one of the heroes of the story. The stone, though unsung, is essential to the collaboration that leads to victory.

This episode teaches a profound lesson about leadership: it is a shared endeavor. Success, whether in battles or in life’s smaller struggles, requires the combined efforts of many. Everyone has a role to play. We can choose to be supportive of our leaders, offering strength and steadiness, or we can be mere bystanders—silent as stones. Yet it is crucial to recognize that not all leaders are worthy of support. The Amalekites had leaders too, but their legacy is one of brutality and defeat.

Alternatively, this story reminds us that providing quiet and steadfast support to others is a holy act. It is not always glamorous, and it may go unnoticed. But without the foundation of those who show up reliably and selflessly, families and communities would falter. When we feel unappreciated for our efforts, the Torah gently reminds us that good outcomes often depend on the strong, silent support of those who form the bedrock of our lives.

The model of support here is as humble as a stone and as solid as a rock. While the titular leader may receive the praise, equal appreciation is due to the footholds and boulders upon which they rest. As the stone, we may not always receive gratitude, but the holiness of helping is its own reward—a key element in sustaining a better, more compassionate world.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame