That feeling isn't new. It's ancient. We find it echoed in the words of Sifrei Devarim, a text that dives deep into the book of Deuteronomy.

In this passage, it's all about tithes – the offerings given from the harvest. The people are saying, in essence, "We've done what you asked, God. Now, it's your turn." It’s a bold statement, isn’t it? A direct plea for divine reciprocity.

"Look down from Your holy abode, from the heavens and bless your people, Israel," they implore. And then they get specific: Bless them with sons and daughters, bless the land with dew and rain, bless the offspring of beasts. And may the land be "flowing with milk and honey," just as you swore to our fathers. Make the fruits taste good!

There's a powerful sense of expectation here. It's not just about material abundance. It’s about fulfilling the ancient covenant, that sacred agreement between God and the Jewish people.

But who gets to make this declaration? Who gets to stand before God and say, "We’ve done our part"?

The text then delves into a fascinating discussion about who is obligated to make this confession over the tithes. The Sifrei Devarim tells us that Israelites and even mamzerim – a Hebrew term referring to children born from certain forbidden relationships – are included. But freed slaves are not, because they don't have a portion in the land.

Now, this is where it gets interesting, and where the Rabbis start to debate. Rabbi Meir takes a stricter view. He argues that Cohanim (priests) and Levites (members of the tribe of Levi) also don’t confess, because they didn’t receive a direct portion in the land. They had a different role, a different kind of inheritance.

But Rabbi Yossi disagrees. He points out that Cohanim and Levites do have cities with open spaces, so they are part of the land and are included in this confession.

This isn't just a dry legal debate. It's a conversation about belonging, about participation, and about the different ways we can be connected to the land and to the divine promise. Who is "in" and who is "out"? Who gets to participate in this sacred exchange?

What does it mean to have a "portion" in something? Is it just about owning land? Or is it about something deeper – a sense of belonging, a sense of responsibility, a sense of connection to something larger than ourselves?

This ancient passage reminds us that our relationship with the divine is a two-way street. We have obligations, yes. But we also have the right to ask for blessings, to expect fulfillment of promises. And perhaps most importantly, it challenges us to consider what it truly means to be part of a community, to have a stake in the land, and to participate in the ongoing story of our people.