We are a community based in Woking and the surrounding area who meet weekly in groups to study scripture (Genesis to Revelation) from a Hebraic perspective and come together on Shabbat .
We follow primarily, but not exclusively, the Torah reading cycle and seek to understand and live it out.
People can join us either through a midweek group or on a Shabbat or both. You are welcome

This Week
Reeh
רְאֵה
Parashat Re’eh and the Flow of Deuteronomy
Parashat Re’eh (Deuteronomy 11:26–16:17) begins with Moshe setting before Israel a stark choice: blessing or curse. The blessings would be proclaimed on Mount Gerizim, the curses on Mount Ebal, at the very heart of the land, beside the oak of Moreh. This is not just stage-setting for a ritual; it is the Torah’s way of teaching that the covenant is written into the very geography and history of Israel.
The choice of Gerizim and Ebal is striking. These two mountains stand side by side, but they look radically different. Gerizim is green, fertile, and welcoming; Ebal is rocky, dry, and forbidding. The Torah uses the land itself to dramatize the lesson: blessing brings life and fruitfulness, while curse brings desolation and loss. The people would see with their own eyes that the future of the land depended on their loyalty to God’s commands.
The location is equally significant. The ceremony takes place by the oak of Moreh in Shechem, the same place where Abraham first entered Canaan and received God’s promise: “To your offspring I will give this land” (Genesis 12:6). What Abraham saw in vision, his descendants were now about to inherit. The connection to the patriarch underscores continuity—the covenant is not new, but a fulfillment of God’s word spoken long ago. The very name Moreh means “teaching,” hinting that here, in the land’s center, Israel was being taught how their destiny would unfold: fidelity would lead to fruitfulness, rebellion to ruin.
The covenant at Gerizim and Ebal was also a collective act. Half the tribes stood on one mountain, half on the other, and the entire nation responded in unison to the blessings and curses. In that moment, Israel became bound together in responsibility for one another. Sin or faithfulness was not an individual matter alone; the fate of one could affect the whole. This explains why, when Achan secretly took from the banned spoils at Jericho, Israel as a nation was defeated at Ai. One man’s hidden sin brought calamity upon everyone until it was confronted. The same dynamic nearly led to civil war when the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh built an altar by the Jordan. The rest of Israel assumed it was an act of rebellion that could draw God’s wrath upon the whole people. They were prepared to fight their brothers rather than risk collective guilt. Only when it was clarified that the altar was not for sacrifice but as a memorial of unity was the crisis resolved. These stories echo the lesson of Gerizim and Ebal: the covenant is shared, and the responsibility for blessing and curse belongs to all Israel together.
After this dramatic introduction, Parashat Re’eh turns to the practical outworking of blessing and curse in daily life. First comes the command to centralize worship at the place God will choose. Israel is forbidden to offer sacrifices wherever they please. The entire nation must be drawn together in one sanctuary, just as they once stood together at Gerizim and Ebal. A single center of worship was the only way to preserve unity and prevent splintering into rival cults.
The portion then warns against idolatry in all its forms—whether led by a false prophet, a family member, or even a whole town. The reason is clear: idolatry is not just a personal betrayal; it endangers the covenant and thus threatens everyone. To tolerate it would be to invite the curse of Ebal upon the nation. This, too, recalls Jacob’s act near Shechem, where he buried the foreign gods under a tree before approaching God, purging his household of corruption.
The laws that follow touch daily life: dietary practices, tithes, the remission of debts in the sabbatical year, generosity toward the poor, and the release of slaves. Each of these is framed by the same covenantal logic. Blessing flows when the community cares for all its members; curse follows when some prosper at the expense of others. Israel is reminded that it was once enslaved in Egypt and must not enslave its own. They are told that there should be no poor among them, for God intends to bless them in the land. These social and economic commands express in practical form the same truth dramatized on the mountains: the well-being of the whole depends on the faithfulness of each, and the care of each depends on the commitment of the whole.
The section concludes with the pilgrimage festivals—Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot—when the people are to gather at the central sanctuary. These festivals are national reenactments of covenantal unity. Just as the people once stood divided on two mountains yet joined as one in proclaiming “Amen,” so too must they come together in joy, each family and every social class included, rejoicing before God. Blessing is not complete until everyone, from the Levite to the orphan and widow, shares in it.
From this point on, the rest of Deuteronomy continues to expand and reinforce the themes introduced in Re’eh.