“What is your favorite pasuk from this week’s sedrah?” This was the question my father used to ask us children at the Shabbos table. We did not leap to offer an answer because we were wary of the next question: “Why ?” This was a creative way to get us thinking about Chumash and we found ourselves preparing our choices even before the Shabbos meal began.

Of course as we grew older we realized that every pasuk in the Torah carries equal weight and importance as indeed does every single letter because as Ramban says the entire Torah is the manifestation of the great Name of G-d Himself. Should a tiny yud be missing from a Sefer Torah that Torah cannot be used for public reading until the error is corrected.

Nevertheless different psukim strike different chords in different people and certain neshamos respond to certain psukim more deeply than to others. So he would ask us to think about “our” pasuk because as Nefesh HaChaim IV:11 says every Jew has his own letter somewhere in the Torah — and maybe even his own pasuk.

Decades have passed I have grown older (though not much wiser) and still hear lingering echoes of that childhood question. Now however it is not a search for “favorite” psukim but a sighting of psukim that light up that fairly leap off the page and reverberate within the mature soul. And so with the climactic Simchas Torah just around the bend I share with you one verse from each of the Five Chumashim that most resonate with me — fully aware of the caveat that all Torah verses are equally sacred.

Bereishis 45:3 — “Ani Yosef ha’od avi chai? (I am Yosef does my father still live?)” This climax of the entire 40-chapter narrative of Yosef and his brothers is puzzling. When Yosef finally reveals his true identity instead of simply stating “ I am Yosef ” he adds an odd question — “Does my father still live?” — when he already knew from his brothers that Yaakov was alive. Why Yosef chooses to reveal himself in this cryptic way — and why he says “my father” and not “our father” — has depleted many a bottle of commentators’ ink.

Shemos 19:6 — “Atem tiheyu li mamleches Kohanim v’goy kadosh.” This is the great overarching theme of Torah: a “kingdom of Kohanim a holy people.” In genuine service of G-d there is no hierarchy no individuals with special privileges. Atem all of you each one of you creates for Me a kingdom where everyone can — and should — be holy.

Vayikra 9:3 — “Vayidom Aharon.” Aharon the High Priest has just lost two of his four sons because they offered up “strange fire.” He could protest that his sons were only trying to serve G-d in their own way and were not rebelling against Him. But Aharon the man of whom G-d says “Aharon will be your speaker” who knows how to use words to inspire and bring people together — when face to face with this personal tragedy and the inscrutable G-d — is Vayidom completely silent uttering nothing. Speech is a great gift but silence is sometimes much more eloquent.

Bamidbar 33:1-37 — “Vayis’u vayachanu … (They traveled and they encamped …)” There are 32 such consecutive verses each one except for place names identical to every other. On the surface they are merely a repetitive and monotonous accounting of where the Israelites stopped in the Wilderness and where they moved on. But on a deeper level they are the tolling bell of Jewish history. Vayis’u vayachanu they traveled and they encamped they traveled and they encamped. Over and over again comes this throbbing drumbeat this plangent re-echoing rhythm of our wandering people.

Devarim 28:47 — “Tachas asher lo avadeta … (Because you did not serve G-d in joy and gladness of heart …)” Appearing as it does in the midst of the terrifying tochachah section it is itself more terrifying than the tochachah. It pinpoints the very human tendency to turn to G-d only in times of adversity but to ignore Him when things are going well. This verse imprints upon our spiritual selves one cardinal truth: that the religious Jew turns to G-d when things are good with the same enthusiasm and heartfelt devotion as when things are not so good.

These choices are obviously very personal and subjective but I share them in the hope of encouraging people to listen and imbibe the text of the Torah (G-d’s Name!) not only with eyes and ears but with heart as well. If we learn to explore — not just read — the depths of the holy text we will all be worthy of a year of wholeness and holiness.