By Linda Barat

This week, we read Behar and Bechukotai, a double portion rich with spiritual and ethical meaning. Behar introduces the laws of Shemita and Yovel—reminding us to release, to restore, to return. In Bechukotai, we see the blessings that come from walking in God’s ways—and the consequences when we don’t. But even in the darkest predictions, the parsha ends with hope: “Yet even then… I will not reject them… for I am the Lord their God.”

That message of return and enduring relationship resonates deeply with me.

I grew up Presbyterian, yet I never truly connected with its teachings. I went through the motions, but something always felt distant—like I was on the outside looking in. As I grew older, I began to explore Judaism. What started as curiosity deepened into something more—a feeling of resonance and recognition that I couldn’t explain.

I began in a Reform community where I felt a strong sense of belonging. Later, I sought more structure and observance and explored Orthodoxy, where I immersed myself in halachah (“Jewish law”). But over time, I found myself yearning for a Judaism that honored both tradition and personal integrity. In the Conservative movement, I found that balance—a halachic framework that also made space for my questions, my journey, and my voice.

And then something extraordinary happened. I discovered that my maternal grandmother was Jewish. According to halacha—Jewish law—that meant I had been Jewish all along. Even as I’d searched, wandered, experimented, and returned, I had unknowingly always belonged. I wasn’t adopting something new—I was uncovering something eternal.

There’s a verse in Behar that speaks to this sense of movement and grounding:
“The land shall not be sold permanently, for the land is Mine; you are strangers and sojourners with Me” (Leviticus 25:23).  We are all sojourners—on a journey of becoming. But God walks with us.

A concept that helped me make sense of these moments is Hashgacha Pratis—Divine Providence. It means that God is intimately involved in our lives, not just watching from a distance but guiding events in real time. Psalms teaches: “From heaven God looks down, He sees all mankind… He oversees all the inhabitants of the earth.” (34:13–14)

People sometimes call it coincidence. But in Jewish tradition, we believe there are no coincidences—only God’s fingerprints. As Maimonides wrote, “The Creator… creates and guides all creatures… He alone made, makes, and will make everything.” Trusting in this—bitachon—is what allows us to see meaning in moments that might otherwise feel random.

Looking back, I see hashgacha pratis in so many parts of my journey: in my discomfort with the faith I was raised in, in the communities and teachers I encountered, and especially in learning about my grandmother. That moment revealed something that had always been true.

It also gave new meaning to a phrase I’d heard before but only later understood in my heart: Pintele Yid—the indestructible spark of Jewishness inside every Jewish soul. That spark was always in me. It guided me, even when I didn’t know its name. It brought me home.

As someone once said, “Everything is hashgacha pratis, but only sometimes are we fortunate enough to see it.” I believe it’s the Pintele Yid that helps us see—that little flame inside, waiting for light and air and recognition.

As we close the book of Vayikra (Leviticus) tomorrow morning, may we each find the courage to listen to that spark, to trust the journey, and to return—again and again—to the truth of who we are.

Linda Barat recently returned to Buffalo after many years away. She left at 18 to attend the Fashion Institute of Technology, going on to work as a buyer for Bloomingdale’s, marry, raise her children, and dedicate herself to both local and international Jewish organizations. A life-changing recovery from a ruptured aneurysm awakened a deep spiritual calling—drawing her back to her faith, her family, and her roots. Today, Linda is profoundly grateful for the warm, inclusive embrace she has received, a powerful reminder of the strength and beauty of kehillah (community).