Ki Tisa: Lifting Up the Broken – A Lesson in Elevation, Responsibility, and Healing

Introduction: The Power of Lifting Up

The opening words of Parshat Ki Tisa contain a profound message that extends beyond the simple act of counting the Jewish people. The Torah commands:

"כִּי תִשָּׂא אֶת רֹאשׁ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל"

"When you lift up the heads of Bnei Yisrael..." (Shemot 30:12)

Rather than using a simple word for counting, the Torah deliberately chooses a term that signifies elevation, dignity, and recognition. Counting alone reduces people to numbers, but lifting up implies seeing their worth, restoring their confidence, and affirming their place in the community. Hashem commands Moshe not merely to take a census, but to uplift each person, reinforcing that every individual matters.

This lesson is as relevant today as it was then. In a world where many feel invisible, unimportant, or disconnected, the Torah’s message is clear: to be counted is to be valued. Those struggling with mental illness, trauma, or isolation, especially teens at risk, often believe they do not matter, that their absence would go unnoticed. But when they know they are seen, valued, and essential, they gain the strength to heal and grow.

The Torah teaches that true leadership, true connection, and true healing do not come from simply counting people, but from lifting them up. To uplift someone means to affirm their place, restore their dignity, and show them that they are never alone. This is the foundation of a strong and compassionate community, one that recognizes that every individual carries a spark of infinite worth and potential.

The Half-Shekel: Redemption Before the Fall

One of the most striking aspects of Parshat Ki Tisa is that the commandment of the half-shekel precedes the sin of the Golden Calf. If it serves as atonement, why was it commanded before the transgression? This timing is not incidental but reveals a profound message about human nature, communal responsibility, and divine foresight.

The Ramban explains that Hashem, in His infinite wisdom, prepared a remedy before the fall. Before we stumble, Hashem has already provided a path for return, not just as atonement, but as a safeguard to prevent spiritual collapse. The half-shekel was not just a way back; it was a foundation of unity and belonging that could prevent failure altogether. Just as a loving parent anticipates a child's struggles and provides guidance in advance, Hashem ensures that the Jewish people have a spiritual safety net before they realize they need it. This teaches that true leadership is proactive, not reactive—by fostering a strong spiritual and communal foundation before failure, we can prevent individuals from reaching a state of despair.

This concept is critical in preventing communal failure. The half-shekel was a collective mitzvah, requiring every individual, rich or poor, to contribute equally. The Torah is teaching that a strong, united community that values each member can prevent national catastrophe. If we work together to uphold the dignity and inclusion of every person, they will feel connected, counted, and less likely to fall into crisis or sin. Many communal failures occur not because of outright rebellion but because individuals feel unseen, unheard, or disconnected.

The Kli Yakar expands on this idea, explaining that the half-shekel symbolizes incompleteness. No one is whole on their own; we are only complete when we are part of something greater. The Jewish people did not sin out of idolatry, but out of fear and spiritual abandonment. They felt lost without Moshe, uncertain of how to approach Hashem directly, and so they sought an intermediary. Their initial intentions were noble, but their actions led them astray.

This struggle is not unique to Bnei Yisrael—it is a universal human experience. People often begin with the right intentions, but when faced with uncertainty or fear, they may make desperate choices that ultimately lead them down the wrong path. Bnei Yisrael did not seek idolatry for its own sake—they sought security, reassurance, and direction in Moshe’s absence. Their mistake was not in their desire for connection, but in where they turned to find it. This is a struggle that continues today. A teen who feels abandoned may turn to harmful influences, just as a person in crisis may make destructive choices in search of temporary relief. Like Bnei Yisrael at the Golden Calf, their actions may not be about rebellion, but about desperation for connection. The key is not to condemn the mistake but to understand its root cause—fear, uncertainty, or loneliness. Prevention begins long before the crisis. Just as Hashem provided the half-shekel before the sin, we, too, must build systems of support before people reach their breaking point. When individuals know they are valued, supported, and counted, they are far less likely to seek comfort in destructive places.

This is the role of leaders, parents, and educators, to help those in pain navigate their uncertainty without resorting to choices that ultimately harm them. Just as Hashem anticipated Bnei Yisrael’s struggle and provided the half-shekel as a spiritual anchor, we, too, must create systems of support before people reach a crisis point. When individuals know that they have a stable, caring community to rely on, they are far less likely to turn to destructive behaviors as a means of coping with fear and uncertainty.

This mirrors a common struggle in life, people often start with good intentions but, in moments of fear, doubt, or uncertainty, make misguided choices. The placement of the half-shekel before the sin teaches that our worth is not determined by our mistakes but by our efforts to reconnect and grow. Even before failure, Hashem provides a means to return, teaching us that redemption is always within reach.

This is a vital message for those who feel broken. Trauma survivors and struggling teens often believe their mistakes define them. They may feel unworthy, beyond repair, or incapable of redemption. But the half-shekel teaches otherwise: even in struggle, they are counted, valued, and necessary. Every soul has an irreplaceable role, and no failure severs that bond.

The Baal HaTurim highlights an essential contrast: the Jewish people sinned with gold (the Golden Calf) but atoned with silver (the half-shekel). This distinction teaches that the very areas in which we stumble can become the foundation of our healing. Gold is a symbol of wealth and excess, it was used in the sin of the Golden Calf when Bnei Yisrael sought security in something tangible. But silver, a humbler and more reflective metal, was the vehicle of atonement. This teaches that redemption comes through humility and introspection. Often, those who experience failure and learn from it become the strongest and most compassionate leaders, able to uplift others with their wisdom.

This is a universal truth: the very struggles that once defined our downfall can become the sources of our greatest strength. Those who have endured adversity and emerged stronger often become the ones most capable of guiding others through similar struggles.

Thus, the placement of the half-shekel before the Golden Calf reveals a timeless lesson about redemption, communal responsibility, and personal growth. No failure places a person beyond redemption, for Hashem, in His infinite wisdom, prepares a path for return even before we recognize our need for it. A strong and united community can prevent crisis, as individuals who feel valued and included are far less likely to fall into despair. While fear and uncertainty can lead to missteps, our intentions do not define us, our efforts to correct our course do. Moreover, the very areas where we stumble can become the foundation of our greatest growth, as struggles, when properly channeled, can be transformed into strengths. Our role is to recognize the lifelines placed before us, to reach for them, and to allow them to elevate us, from brokenness to renewal, from struggle to strength.

The half-shekel ensured that no one was left out—not in redemption, and not in the collective strength of the nation. But Hashem did not only count the people—He lifted them. This idea extends beyond the half-shekel itself to the very way Bnei Yisrael were counted. More than a numerical tally, counting in the Torah is an act of recognition—one that affirms the worth of each individual and reinforces their place in the community.

Counting as Elevation: Recognizing the Worth of Every Individual

The Torah could have simply commanded Moshe to count the people, yet instead, it uses the phrase "lift up their heads" (Ki Tisa et rosh Bnei Yisrael). This language is deliberate and deeply meaningful. Counting suggests a mere numerical tally, reducing individuals to data points. Lifting up signifies elevation, dignity, and recognition, reminding us that every person matters, every soul has inherent value, and no one should ever feel insignificant.

The Midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah 1:10) expands on this idea, explaining that Hashem counts Bnei Yisrael out of love, like one who treasures precious jewels. A jeweler does not simply tally their collection; they carefully examine each gem, appreciating its unique brilliance. So too, Hashem does not count His people out of obligation, but out of deep love and care, affirming that each individual is irreplaceable.

This contrasts sharply with how society often views people. In many cultures, individuals are reduced to statistics, labeled by their achievements, wealth, or external status. Those who struggle, whether due to mental health challenges, trauma, or social isolation, often feel invisible, as if their presence or absence makes no difference. The Torah rejects this notion entirely. By using the phrase "lift up their heads", the Torah teaches that true leadership does not simply take attendance, it affirms, elevates, and restores self-worth.

The half-shekel donation reinforces this message in a tangible way. Each person, rich or poor, righteous or struggling, gave exactly the same amount. This was not just a practical method for counting; it was a profound statement of equality and belonging. No one’s financial status, social standing, or personal struggles diminished their worth in the eyes of Hashem. The Jewish people were only complete when every individual contributed, emphasizing that no person is expendable, and without them, something essential is missing.

Studies show that when people feel unseen or unvalued, they are significantly more likely to experience depression, anxiety, and a loss of hope. This is especially true for at-risk youth, who often struggle with feelings of isolation and insignificance. But the opposite is also true: when even one person sees them, believes in them, and affirms their worth, it can alter their entire trajectory. A single teacher, mentor, or parent who validates a child’s worth can be the difference between despair and renewal. The Torah’s message is clear: no one is just a number. Every person has a unique light that must be recognized, and true leadership is about bringing that light forward, especially for those who feel invisible.

This lesson is especially critical for those who feel disconnected, the struggling teen who feels they don’t belong, the individual battling depression, or the person who feels lost in a crowd. The Torah teaches that their worth is intrinsic, not based on their achievements, external success, or the validation of others. Just as the Jewish people were counted through lifting up, so too must we lift up those who feel unseen, ensuring that every individual knows they matter, they are valued, and they belong.

The Role of Parents, Educators, and Communities

Recognizing the value of every individual is not just a virtue, it is a fundamental responsibility of parents, educators, and community leaders. The phrase "when you lift up" (Ki Tisa et rosh) is not merely about acknowledging someone’s existence; it is about actively elevating them, ensuring they feel seen, valued, and worthy. True leadership is not about waiting for a crisis to unfold, but about creating an environment where no one falls through the cracks.

For teens at risk, this is particularly crucial. Many who battle mental health struggles, trauma, or personal failures believe they are beyond help, that they are unworthy of love or redemption. The Torah rejects this notion entirely. No one is beyond redemption. No one should struggle alone. Hashem did not wait until Bnei Yisrael fell to provide a path back; He prepared the half-shekel before the Golden Calf. This teaches us that support must be proactive, not reactive, structures of guidance, belonging, and emotional safety must exist before a crisis emerges.

A sense of belonging is the strongest protective factor against despair. When individuals feel seen and valued, they are less likely to resort to destructive behaviors. The half-shekel teaches this through action: no person is whole on their own. Every individual is, in some way, "a half", incomplete, imperfect, in need of connection. Healing is not an individual journey; it is a communal one.

Parents play an irreplaceable role. A struggling child does not always need immediate solutions—what they need most is unconditional love and presence. Often, parents feel helpless, thinking, How can I fix this? But a parent’s greatest gift is not fixing their child’s struggle, it is walking beside them, showing them that they are not alone, that they are loved, and that their worth is not dependent on their success.

Educators, too, must recognize their role beyond academics. A classroom is not just a place of learning, it must be a place of belonging. A struggling student may not remember every lesson, but they will never forget how a teacher made them feel. Schools should be safe havens, where every child, especially those who struggle, feels valued, supported, and capable of success.

But this responsibility extends beyond parents and schools. Communities must foster a culture of inclusion. A community that uplifts the struggling, embraces the broken, and offers guidance before despair sets in is a community that prevents crises before they begin. We are all responsible for lifting up those who feel unseen, ensuring that no one is left behind.

When we live by the Torah’s directive to lift up, not just count, we transform lives. We create a world where no one feels invisible, where those who struggle are not cast aside, and where every individual knows they are needed, valued, and deeply loved.

Conclusion: Elevating the Broken, Lifting the Lost

The Torah’s phrase "when you lift up" is more than a call to acknowledge others, it is a command to take action, to actively raise those who feel unseen and forgotten. It is not enough to simply notice someone’s struggles; we must help them rise, affirm their worth, and ensure they never feel alone.

This responsibility extends beyond individual acts of kindness; it is a communal mission. The Torah teaches that each person’s half-shekel was necessary for the wholeness of the nation, demonstrating that when even one individual is missing, the entire community is incomplete. The same applies to our world today: every struggling soul is an integral part of the whole. When we lift up those who feel unseen, we strengthen not only them but the entire fabric of our people.

This is the very foundation of Kol Haneshamot, an organization dedicated to ensuring that no parent, no child, and no family faces their struggles in isolation. Healing does not begin when a child reaches their breaking point; it begins long before, in the small, quiet moments, when a parent chooses understanding over judgment, when a family chooses compassion over rejection, and when a community chooses inclusion over isolation.

The Torah’s lesson is clear: lifting others is not optional, it is a sacred responsibility. Whether as parents, educators, mentors, or friends, each of us has a role in restoring dignity, rebuilding trust, and offering hope to those who feel lost. The greatest impact does not come from fixing someone’s struggles but from ensuring they never feel alone in them. Through connection, love, and unwavering support, we do not simply prevent despair, we ignite hope. When we lift up those who are struggling, we elevate the entire community.

The half-shekel teaches that no one stands alone, and so too must we stand together. We must become the kind of parents, educators, and leaders who lift others up, who see those who feel invisible, who stand beside those who struggle, and who remind every person that they matter. Let us create a world where no child feels forgotten, where no one is beyond hope, and where we lift every soul with unwavering love, dignity, and purpose. For when we lift others, we lift ourselves. And when we stand together, no one is ever truly alone.

Shabbat Shalom,Yaakov Lazar,

Executive Director, Kol Haneshamot