Shabbat Shalom
As always, I found it somewhat difficult to deal with this parasha. There are, as we know, 51 separate laws in this parasha. That means that we are dealing with 1/12, more than 9% of the Taryag Mitzvot, the traditional numbering of laws in the Torah. To put it another way, if each parasha had 51 laws, there would be 2,754 laws. We should all be grateful.
I happened to mention this to Rabbi Rembaum , and he felt that there was an interesting chiastic structure, particularly when you expand the parasha to include Yitro ahead of it, and Terumah to follow. However, it’s probably the case that if you look hard enough, and you expand things enough and be somewhat flexible about the rules, you’ll always find a chiastic structure. In any case, I leave those things to Joel.
I was reminded, as I read the parasha, of Mickey Rosen’s excellent drasha from a couple of months ago, where he reminded us that our myths, our stories about ourselves, says something about who we are – more specifically, since we choose our national myths, we are making a conscious decision about how we present ourselves.
To that end, Mishpatim should hold a special interest because of the collection of laws and what that selection, and its omissions, say about us.
What also struck me as I considered this was an opinion piece I read in the Wall Street Journal last fall by Norman Podhoretz, the former editor of Commentary. Normally, I don’t read opinions, since I have plenty of my own, and when I am running short, I can always ask Sandra, but this one was titled “Why are Jews Liberal,” and it caught my eye. He said:
“Most American Jews sincerely believe that their liberalism, together with their commitment to the Democratic Party as its main political vehicle, stems from the teachings of Judaism and reflects the heritage of "Jewish values." But if this theory were valid, the Orthodox would be the most liberal sector of the Jewish community. After all, it is they who are most familiar with the Jewish religious tradition and who shape their lives around its commandments.”
I’d like to recall that this particular statement came in the shadow of some fairly prominent events involving Jews of all stripes – Madoff, the New Jersey perp walk, etc. And of course, it’s rather humbling to discover that we, sitting here today, are unfamiliar with tradition and ignore the Commandments. But rather than comment on the statement, let’s hold it on the side for a moment and take a look at three specific laws, and consider what they say about us. Chapter 22, verses 20-24 (and I know we didn’t read those today, but I assure you they do exist).
Verse 20 says “you shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”
Verses 21 through 23 obligate us not to ill-treat any widow or orphan, and goes on “I will heed their outcry as soon as they cry out to Me, and My anger shall blaze forth and I will put you to the sword, and your own wives shall become widows and your children orphans.”
Finally, verse 24 requires that if we lend money to the poor, we cannot act toward them as a creditor, may not exact interest, and if we take a garment in pledge, we must return it before the sun sets, because “it is his only clothing, the sole covering for his skin, and in what else shall he sleep?” and finally, “if he cries out to me, I will pay heed, for I am compassionate.”
These laws are notable for many reasons. First, many of the statutes in Mishpatim resemble, more than anything else, actual events– it is hard to deny that they arose out of real life situations, a recitation of facts involving real people. It is from these cases that the laws define the relationships between people, the underpinnings for an orderly and rational society. These three laws, however, are different – they deal not with the actual, but the hypothetical. They deal not with a specific set of circumstances, but a general obligation on how we act toward a broad group, and this casts a very different hue on our societal laws.
Moreover, most of the laws in Mishpatim deal with our internal society – how we are to treat fellow Jews, whether it be the tortfeaser, the killer, whether murderer or voluntary, the indentured servant. And some of the laws deal with what is very much a “tribe” issue, the major holidays. And, lest you think I would ever get through a derash without it, there is no mention of Yom Tov Sheni. But these are broad laws which impact all people, not just those in our society, but very specifically, the stranger, those outside of it.
And finally, these three laws are among a distinct minority of verses that include a rationale or an explanation. Rather than being simplistic declaration, there is a comment attached. We do not wrong a stranger because we were strangers; we do not mistreat orphans because we, our spouses, our children could become widows, widowers and orphans; and we do not hold a pledge of a cloak overnight because we are to remember the discomfort and humiliation of the debtor.
There are times when laws are so straightforward that an explanation weakens them – what can you add to “Thou shalt not kill,” other than to weaken it?
Other times, our laws are intentionally cloaked in ambiguity. Samson Raphael Hirsch says that the whole reason for the Book of the Covenant is, in fact, to emphasize the importance of the oral law, that we cannot expect to understand these laws without commentary, and that is even more clear now, as we have moved away from so many of the facts and circumstances of the laws. We need, as Hirsch points out, commentators, Rabbis to explain to us the circumstances, economics and rationale of slavery, as expressed here, compensation for damages, and so on.
But these three laws are both, and they are neither. They are direct, they are unambiguous, and they speak to us directly, attaching humanity and sympathy and empathy to legal strictures. In truth, societies do discriminate against strangers, we do treat the widow and orphan poorly (or at least the results speak for themselves), and we do hold a pledge tightly in anticipation of payment. But these actions are negated by the rationale of these laws.
I am sorry that Podhoretz used the language he used – by attaching the word “liberal” to his piece, he really had no choice except to rail against it. But what he failed to understand or acknowledge, and what we must always remember is that our laws exist for a reason -- laws are not based solely on self-interest or an orderly society, but in an attempt to make us a better, more compassionate people. It reminds us that we are As Larry Weinman told me after reading the piece, he understood Podhoretz entirely: when we were working in the sweatshop, we had compassion for the workers; but when we owned the sweatshop, we no longer felt that need.
It is very easy to get caught up in the technicalities of our laws. We comment that our laws are all-encompassing, that we can awake to them, go to bed with them, and have every moment in between defined by them. But when we do that alone, when we concentrate on the form and not the substance, we will, too easily, be left with the empty shell of a practice, and lose the substance.
Shabbat Shalom