Parashat Ki Tetze opens with the words: “When you go out to war against your enemies.”

On the surface, this refers to the military conflicts Am Israel would face upon entering the Land. But many commentators — including the Sages, the Zohar, and later the Chassidic masters — see here an allusion to a deeper, lifelong struggle: the battle with the yetzer hara, the inner negative forces that deviate us away from God.

Why is this parasha, with its 74 commandments — more than any other — introduced by the image of battle? Because every one of these mitzvot, from the seemingly trivial to the profound, is part of that fight.

• Returning a lost object is not only about property; it is about resisting the impulse to say, “It’s not my responsibility.”
• Sending away the mother bird is not only an act of mercy; it is about training the heart to feel compassion even when it would be easier to be indifferent.
• Building a fence around the roof is not only safety regulation; it is about foreseeing consequences and taking responsibility before harm occurs.

Each mitzvah is a small victory in the hidden war of becoming more sensitive, more awake, more Godlike.

The Sfat Emet, a Hasidic Rabbi, notes that the phrase “ki tetze la’milchama” — “when you go out to war” — implies initiative. We are not meant to passively wait for holiness to descend upon us. We must go out into the world, into the struggles, into the messy details of life — and there, through mitzvot, reveal sparks of holiness.

This is why Ki Tetze is filled not with lofty rituals, but with laws about laborers, animals, family, and property. The Torah insists that the battlefield of the soul is not only in the synagogue or study hall, but in the marketplace and the workplace. Holiness emerges in the everyday.

Perhaps this is why the parasha is read in the month of Elul, just before the High Holidays. It reminds us that teshuvah is not abstract. It is concrete. It begins by noticing the “lost objects” we’ve neglected, the people we’ve walked by without helping, the safeguards we’ve failed to build. It begins by choosing to win the small battles — the battles of kindness, responsibility, and awareness — that prepare us for the larger war of becoming our truest selves.

The secret of Ki Tetze is this: Every mitzvah, no matter how small, is a weapon in the war against indifference and ego. And every small victory is a step toward transforming not only ourselves, but the world.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Refael Cohen