Seeing Yitro Through A Disability Lens

by Jason Lieberman

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Written in memory of my wife, Emily, Nechama Chana bat Chaim Yosef

There are many topics to discuss in Parashat Yitro, from the Ten Commandments to the importance of delegating responsibility, as well as the appointment of judges and their responsibilities. However, when I look at this parsha as a person with a disability, I keep coming back to the description of the Children of Israel’s encampments. Throughout the Torah, the Children of Israel encamp many times. Yet, in every other location besides this parsha, the Hebrew word for encampment appears in the plural. This plural form suggests that the tribes encamped separately.

Additionally, each tribe is described in ways that distinguish them from one another, both at the end of Genesis and at the end of Deuteronomy. These descriptions spell out, in detail, that each tribe had its own strengths and weaknesses. Each was encamped and empowered accordingly. Yet, when they encamp in Parashat Yitro, the word for encampment is singular, indicating that everyone encamped together as one, regardless of their uniqueness. Everyone received the Torah together. It did not matter whether an individual or tribe had perceived strengths or weaknesses related to Torah study. It did not matter whether someone was rich or poor. It did not matter whether someone had a disability or not. Everyone received the Torah together.

This teaches that since everyone received the Torah at the same time, as one people, we each have the same responsibilities and abilities regarding Torah. Everyone has both the responsibility and the ability to learn and to teach Torah. In fact, in his list of commandments in the Torah, the Rambam does not list learning Torah as a commandment; instead, he lists teaching Torah. Since everyone was taught Torah together at Mount Sinai (a prerequisite to teaching it), so everyone must teach it as well. Yet we each learn and teach Torah differently, from our own personal perspectives.

Furthermore, each time we end the Torah and begin it again, we learn more, because our lives, and therefore our perspectives, change. While this is true for everyone, it is especially true for people with disabilities, as we are often forced to adapt to the world around us even more than those who have not experienced disability. While everyone’s perspectives, and thus their teachings, change over time, disability often provides us with even more to teach than others. As we evolve, we learn more about ourselves and the world around us. The more we learn from the Torah, the more we can teach our newfound perspectives on ourselves and the evolving world around us, along with new understandings of Torah and the meaning of words we may have read before but never fully understood. By teaching and reteaching Torah differently each time, we continually fulfill Rambam’s understanding of this commandment.

Yes, it is possible to learn separately, but not as effectively. It is also possible to pray alone. Still, when praying alone, certain prayers cannot be said, because together we are stronger and, according to tradition, our prayers are more powerful. For this reason, like Torah study, all Jewish activities should be more inclusive and integrated. We are stronger together. We can encamp separately, yet even the tribes who chose to encamp on the east side of the Jordan River still had to cross over and fight to conquer the land of Canaan on the west side, because we are stronger together. The same is true of when we first learned Torah. When it came to receiving Torah, we encamped together, we learned together, and we must teach together. Just because separation is possible, and sometimes easier or even necessary, does not mean it should be the goal. Inclusion and integration should be the goal, not the exception.

Furthermore, because everyone was taught the Torah together, Jews traditionally do not study Torah alone. We study it with at least one other person in a practice known as havruta. By studying in pairs, we each bring our own perspectives and life experiences to Torah study. In doing so, we can offer new insights to ourselves and, perhaps most importantly, to our study partners. Through this process, we fulfill Rambam’s understanding of this important mitzvah. Everyone can learn, and everyone can teach. As we study Torah year after year, our perspectives and life experiences change, and we come to see familiar texts differently. This is especially poignant for people with disabilities, as our disabilities, and the ways we interact with them, often lead to more significant changes in our lives and in how we see the world around us than those experienced by people who have not yet encountered disability. If receiving the Torah was an inclusive and integrated experience, then how much more so should our prayer and other aspects of Jewish life be inclusive and integrated as well. Creating inclusive and integrated spaces for study, prayer, and other communal activities is not only ideal, but essential when seen through this lens.

Jason Lieberman was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy at 11 months old and came into his disability identity in eighth grade, when he began leading sensitivity trainings for teachers and peers. As an undergraduate at The George Washington University, he deepened his commitment to disability inclusion by exploring the intersections of Jewish communal life and the disability community, work that has shaped his leadership and advocacy ever since.

In 2001, Jason joined both the board of Matan: Reshaping Jewish Communities Through Disability Inclusion, most recently serving as treasurer before stepping off in 2013 and rejoining in 2025, and the UJA-Federation of New York Task Force on Disability, on which he continues to serve. Named one of the New York Jewish Week’s 36 Under 36 in 2013, Jason is a sought-after public speaker who has presented across the United States and internationally for over two decades. He lives in New York City with his son, Ruby.

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