February 14, 2026
Author(s): Rav Hazzan Aliza Berger,
Parashat Mishpatim
Strap on Your Skis
February 14, 2026 – 27 Sh’vat, 5786
Temple Emanuel, Newton, MA
Even before she stepped into her ski boots to compete in Cortina, Lindsey Vonn’s story was profound. To be a top contender at the age of 41, after six years of retirement, after a partial knee replacement and countless serious injuries, is remarkable in and of itself. But Vonn wasn’t just competing 24 years after her first Olympic games, and she wasn’t just competing on a body which had recovered from countless serious injuries. Just days before the Olympics, Vonn ruptured her ACL racing in Switzerland. Where most athletes would have taken a year to recover, Vonn was planning to ski nearly 100 mph down a notoriously difficult cliff face in the hopes of winning another Olympic gold.
The New York Times story about her leading up to the race was titled, “Linsey Vonn is Skiing on One Good Knee, but It’s a Helluva Knee.[1]” There was so much excitement for her race. As her teammate, Mikaeila Shiffrin put it, “her tenacity and grit, and what she’s showing up with this Olympics and staying true to her own values, that’s just straight up beautiful.[2]”
When Lindsey crashed, all that positive energy shifted. There were nasty comments all over the internet and social media. People said she had no business skiing on a ruptured ACL. That of course she wiped out. How irresponsible. The blow back was so intense that her teammates and coach, even the president of the International Ski and Snowboard Federation, all began making public statements to defend her.
It was a fascinating turn-around. Before Vonn crashed into the gate, there was no critique of her choice, simply admiration. Everyone was talking about how amazing it would be if she could win. But when she caught the gate and crashed, suddenly there was so much blame, so much anger and resentment directed towards her. As if she were wrong to dream. As if the only thing that mattered was winning. As if losing with an injury was somehow embarrassing.
We have to talk about that turn-around, about that shift. Because that move, to applaud effort as long as it’s successful, to criticize risk-taking when it doesn’t turn out, that instinct is so tempting and so dangerous. How often do we hold back because we are too afraid of failing? How often do we foreclose the possibility of joy because we are too afraid to take a risk?
This happens in so many contexts. I was reading an article recently [3] about how many young people are choosing not to have children because they feel the world is too broken and they don’t want to subject a child to that pain. That means because those young people are afraid of how the world could be, they will close off the possibility that the world could improve.
It happens in our bodies when we avoid getting a diagnostic test because we don’t want to know what we might have. Or when we have access to a treatment that is risky, but could radically transform our quality of life, and choose pain or limited mobility instead.
It happens in our relationships, when we have needs or wants, but feel too afraid to speak our truth. Or when we’re stuck in a rut and choose to maintain a status quo which doesn’t serve us rather than working to chart a new course.
It happens in the world too. How many of us feel broken about the state of our country, and yet, we are too afraid to speak out. We are silenced by our fear of what people think of us, of what the consequences will be, and convince ourselves that the risk is not worth the benefit.
There are so many arenas in which we allow fear to control us. But Lindsey Vonn’s last race is a reminder that the greatest failure is not crashing, the greatest failure in life is refusing to strap on your skis in the first place.
In Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Tarfon teaches לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר, וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה. You don’t have to win the race, you don’t have to solve the world’s challenges or cure every ailment, but you are not permitted to allow fear to hold you back. Put on your skis. Face your fears. Rabbi Tarfon reminds us that we should sanctify the effort we expend, the radical audacity of our dreams and our willingness to put in the hard work to achieve them.
לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר
If you’ve been swallowing your truth, afraid to speak out, this is your time! Let your voice be heard. Take a risk.
If you’ve been avoiding a medical test, take it! Get the information you need to make the best health decision possible. Take a risk.
If you have the opportunity to travel, to experience something you’ve always dreamed of, but worry it may tax your body—go! Take a risk!
If you want to have children but feel the world is just too dark, too challenged to bring new life into the world—take a risk! Join me in the world of sleep deprivation that is parenting!
If you like someone, if you love someone, and you haven’t had the courage to risk telling them—take a risk! Open your heart to love.
Wherever you are holding, whatever you are holding, life invites us to step beyond our comfort zone in the pursuit of life’s most incredible opportunities.
Which brings me back to Lindsey Vonn. After her last race, Lindsey Vonn wrote on Instagram, “Yesterday my Olympic dream did not finish the way I dreamt it would. It wasn’t a storybook ending or a fairy tale, it was just life. I dared to dream and had worked so hard to achieve it…While yesterday did not end the way I had hoped, and despite the intense physical pain it caused, I have no regrets. Standing in the starting gate yesterday was an incredible feeling that I will never forget. Knowing I stood there having a chance to win was victory in and of itself…I hope if you take away anything from my journey it’s that you all have the courage to dare greatly. Life is too short not to take chances.”
Though we’re not all alpine skiers, we can all do what Lindsey Vonn did. We can return to our mountains. We can face our fears. We can step bravely into the future. We can take a risk.
[1] Lindsey Vonn Aims to Become the Oldest Alpine Olympic Medalist, Despite Ruptured A.C.L. – The New York Times
[2] ibid
[3] Why Millennials Are Not Having Children: Key Reasons Explained – Millennial