This week's sedra is dominated by the blessings and curses that are the consequences of our actions vis a visHaShem and His mitzvot. If we can achieve a closeness to G-d, we can benefit from the pool (b'recha - related to b'racha) from which all blessings flow. But if we distance ourselves from G-d, then we expose ourselves to punishing tochacha (rebuke, or curses) that are designed to redirect us on a more proper and productive course.


By tradition, we loudly and proudly proclaim the blessings, but de-accentuate the curses by reading through them very quickly, in a barely-audible whisper.


Yet, there is one fascinating corollary of this entire section that bears noting. Every blessing can become a curse, while every curse can become a blessing.


The former is readily apparent to us. How often do we hear of people who receive large sums of money through inheritance or the lottery, only to have this "blessing" ruin their lives, making them lazy, spoiled or non-productive citizens? Or the person who gets a

That which seems to be a negative may actually be a blessing masquerading as a curse.

high-powered executive job, only to become a prisoner of his position, neglecting his family and working himself to death?


But the latter, the converse, can also be true. That which seems to be a negative may actually be a blessing masquerading as a curse. Consider:


Israel is an oil-less country surrounded by numerous hostile nations that sit atop veritable oceans of the gooey liquid gold. Seems unfair, doesn't it? But can you imagine how much more difficult it would have been to reclaim our ancient land if oil had been found here decades ago? (I'm convinced oil will someday be found here when the time is right!)


And all those years - more than 2,000! - when Israel lay barren and uncultivated, when no one could make anything grow here? The world called Israel a "cursed" land. Even Mark Twain, during his tour here 200 years ago, called Palestine a "vast wasteland." But now we understand that the Land was waiting for us, its rightful owners, to make the rocky, desolate soil bloom again. The Land would only react to our touch, the surest sign that the Jews belong to the Land and the Land belongs to the Jews.


It took a long time, but ultimately we understood that the klala was really a bracha in disguise.


Our parsha teaches us to never be over-confident or arrogant, even when the blessings seem to flow. But never lose faith, either, even when the sky seems dark and gloomy. The darkest night can give way to the brightest day.