Parashat HaShuvah - Torah Reading for Shabbat Passover - "Passover Musings - the Messy Middle." Exodus 33:12-34:26, Haftarah, Ezekiel 37:1-14

 I hope everyone had meaningful Seders this year!  This week for the Shabbat of Passover we have a special Torah reading that reminds the listener that God made a covenant with the Jewish people rooted in the Torah to include our holidays.  In that reading we find a well known passage (we read it during the High Holidays) about the characteristics of God who is "compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin.” During the week of Passover (and Sukkot) when we reflect on God’s characteristics we are asked to reflect on our own. The freedom that we recall during Passover is a characteristic of God, and therefore us as well.

Rabbi Abraham Cook, who was the founder of the modern Chief Rabbinate of Israel, teaches that each of us during Passover is to recall, or rediscover, our own freedom within. Thus Rav Cook writes, “What makes us truly free? When we are able to be faithful to our inner self, to the truth of our Divine image - then we can live a fulfilled life focused on the soul's inner goal.” Passover is just not a time to remember the freedom of the slaves of old and Jewish history, although it tells us about our past, but it speaks to our today also.  On the Seder plate we have two places for bitter herbs, Maror (מרור) and Chazeret (חזרת). Both tell the story that “the experience of the Jewish people’s slavery in Egypt, which was not initiated all at once, but rather conducted gradually and so grew progressively more bitter.” But the ongoing bitterness of slavery is generational, meaning that while most people today have not been physical slaves in Egypt (or the Shoah), we all suffer because of the effects of racism and antisemitism, lack of rights for minorities, women and the LGBTQ+ community.  There is fallout from the political polarization in this country that continues to divide people, the bitterness of disinformation and balanced reporting, pain and suffering from illness and disease, abuse of power and position and the list can go on.  Bitterness is not a one time thing but lingers. We can also become captive to the bitterness that has the power to engulf, and therefore, enslave us. That is part of the story too. 
 
Today we are suffering the bitterness of the evil of Hamas and its aftermath. I began my Seders this year by saying (as I am sure many of you did as well) that this is no ordinary year, we have families and friends who are being held captive right now in Gaza, although we continue to say l’olam lo shuv, never again. I recently read words by Rabbi Marc Katz of Temple Ner Tamid in Bloomfield, New Jersey who has called the situation for us Jews (and Jewish communities) in Gaza a “messy middle.” It's a “messy middle” because this is not black and white as Rabbi Katz further wrote that as people we “can hold a lot of things at once, and you can feel for the Palestinian people, you can feel for the Israeli people. Compassion is not a zero-sum game.”  The Rabbi is saying that the “messy middle” reflects that many Jews in Israel and around the world do not want to fight, do not want to see innocent people on either side suffer or die, and want to see both Jew and Arab raise their children and families freely without threat. Yet they also see the need to fight the evil of Hamas that must be destroyed while knowing the world criticizes Israel and more innocent people will have to die in order to secure Jewish and Arab freedom so two people can live side by side. The Jews in Goshen were the same; they just wanted to live in peace, yet innocent people (Jews and innocent Egyptians) had to die in the process.  Today we have a new battle that rages, the battle for our Jewish and Israel supporting young people who are entering the university system. This battle is fighting for the right to walk on campus in safety, to learn and voice opinion without fear, to stand up to antisemitism, but also islamophobia.  Seeking a win-win is truly hard for all, hence a "zero-sum game," but evil must be eradicated and people freed.

Last week I mentioned the words of the Abarbanel, who wrote, “By spilling a drop of wine from the Pesach cup for each plague, we acknowledge that our own joy is lessened and incomplete, for our redemption had to come by means of the punishment of other human beings. Even though these are just punishments for evil acts, it says, “Do not rejoice at the fall of your enemy” (Proverbs 24:17).”  Our sense of compassion can be compromised by the chametz (leaven) of anger, or even hate, one sided justice, fear and grave disappointment.  What does chametz have to do with this?  Again calling on Rav Cook he teaches that the “leavening agent” (chametz)  that makes “dough rise” is added to change the doughs “natural shape and characteristics.”  As humans we must seek out what is natural shape in order “to be faithful to our Divine image.”  The chametz of anger and fear (etc.) can also change our “natural shape and characteristics” of love and compassion both for friend and foe.  When we recall the plagues we recall those who died for Israel's freedom from slavery, yet we are never to rejoice that their freedom came and the expense of an Egyptian life, no matter how evil.  The "messy middle" says be angry at evil but do not rejoice at the death of a life, even of an enemy. 

According to our Divine Image we have the middah (characteristic) of rachmones, or mercy, compassion, forgiveness and empathy (reflecting God's character above).  The Passover story is challenging us to live in the “messy middle” in order to hold true to our truths and have compassion for those who do not. When we rid our lives of the chametz that gets in the way of such a lofty goal, then per the words of Rav Cook, we are truly free.

Shabbat Shalom and Moadim L'Simcha,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

Parashat HaShuvah - Metzoa - "Verbal Purity at Passover." Leviticus 14:1-15:33, Haftarah, Malachai 3:4-24

When we recount the plagues during our upcoming Seders we are not to be gleeful when recalling those who tried to keep the Jews captive and suffered even unto death.  Our posture is not to be: they tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat, no. no no.  In fact the Abarbanel (a-bar-ba-nel, 15th century Rabbi) wrote, “By spilling a drop of wine from the Pesach cup for each plague, we acknowledge that our own joy is lessened and incomplete, for our redemption had to come by means of the punishment of other human beings. Even though these are just punishments for evil acts, it says, “Do not rejoice at the fall of your enemy” (Proverbs 24:17).”

When Israel sang after they crossed the sea the words of Shirat Hayam (the song of the sea from Exodus 15, where Michamocha comes from) their focus was to be on the freedom gained, not the destruction of enemies who drowned.  This is found in our Seder when we sing “Avadim Hayinu,” we were slaves, now we sing songs of praise, not for the death of enemies, but because we are free!  We read in the Talmud (Sanhedrin 39b) that God is said to have rebuked the angels for celebrating after the drowning of the Egyptians, a lesson that Judaism as long taught applies to us, hence the words of the Abarbanel above.

This week's parasha, Metzora, like last week’s Tazria, speaks of afflictions that have been connected to Lashon hara, or evil speech.  Speech obviously comes from our mouth, rooted in the intentions of our hearts and minds, thus out of our mouth comes words of compassion or words designed to hurt and even hate.  The book of Mishlei (Proverbs) captures both.  Words that are affirming and compassionate are “Pleasant words that are like a honeycomb, Sweet to the palate and a cure for the body” (Prov. 16:24). Yet regarding words designed to hurt others, words of anger and hate we also read in Mishlei, “More had fallen by the tongue than had fallen by the edge of the sword” (Prov. 27:18).

Last Shabbat I mentioned how almost everything we do is preceded by brachot (blessings), 91 in total between the three times of prayer per day alone, but also prayers over food, drink, study, be wonderment of creation (like with the eclipse), human uniqueness, healthy bodies and so on. The purpose of the brachot are to speak holiness and goodness into our daily activities, albeit the mundane and the sacred alike, activities that include the words that come from our mouth (verbal and by image both convey messages). Interestingly, regarding the brachot, there is none that we say before we speak.  I reached out to a colleague who shared his thoughts on the matter, suggesting words from the daily Amidah (I thought the same) that say, “You (God) favor humans with perception and teach understanding. Grant us knowledge, understanding and intellect from You.”  In other words, we have all the intellectual ingredients within us to direct our speech and choose to make it holy, or not, before the words even leave our mouth.

Today, it seems like people often use their words for harm. This will get me in trouble with someone I am sure,  but all the posted satire that we see online about political figures or what have you, for Judaism, falls into the category of Lashon hara, a true metzora (affliction) because they create a negative image to damage another.  According to teachings of Judaism it is not about whether it is true (lashon hara does not mean a lie), but it is about the intent to do harm.  Let's bring this back to Passover. There is a kabbalistic teaching that says that the word Pharaoh (פַּרְעֹ֑ה), can also spell “פה רע” (peh rah), which means  “evil mouth.”  Pharaoh according to Zohar (III, 205b) is the very illustration of the "the evil tongue", i.e. slander, a gross misuse of the power of speech and the like.  Pharaoh treated those who he felt were inferior to him in harmful ways, he did not have compassion on human life in general.  His words were meant only for harm and self affirmation. We learn from this that our words must be the opposite.

Therefore we too have the power of speech, speech that we are to use to verbalize our compassion on our enemies who wrong us, even if they don't deserve it (yes hard to do).  In fact the Chofetz Chaim, who writes extensively of proper speech, would teach that the lack of verbal compassion is a form of Lashon Hara.  We are being asked during our Seders to give thanks for our shared freedoms, and to celebrate our diversity and common humanity.  I heard it said that diversity is not about uniformity but harmony.  Living in harmony with others is about being okay and tolerant with others who we may not agree with, allowing our speech to be celebratory of our human journeys and not the differences that separate us.  Yet the Seder also asks us to have compassion on our enemies, those who seek to harm us, which is why we recite the plagues and the story of the sea out loud. May we never lose our compassion and words of mercy for those who seek to impose barriers on our freedoms.  The Pharaoh’s of this world will have their day of reckoning, we can bet on that, yet we must not lose our sense of goodness or compassion on account of them.

Shabbat Shalom and chag pesach sameach,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

Parashat HaShuvah - Tazria - "Measure by Measure." Leviticus 12:1-13:59, Haftarah, 2 Kinds 4:42-5:19

We live in a world of words.  Speaking words is a big deal in Judaism. I’d like to focus on two outstanding issues regarding words that we hear everyday. The first is our march toward the November elections.  While my intention here is not to pick sides, what I will say is that most of what I hear/read today is not a bipartisan approach to the important issues that we face as Americans. More often what I tend to read is about failed human characteristics and personal attacks.  Beneath such words there can be truth, absolutely, and that must guide us come November. But for Judaism the truth does not get to dictate how words are used if they produce hate inspired words that seek to assassinate another person. The second is the mainstream words of the anti-Israel rhetoric that permeates our news. Is it all lies? No, of course not, but a lot of it is not full-truths either, leaving many people with less than factual information both about the Israel-Gaza war and our own governmental policies toward the Jewish state. So while these points should be an important matter as Jews and Jewish communities, what does this have to do with this week's parasha, Tazria? 

In his book, Shemirat HaLashon, guarding of the tongue, Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan - the Chofetz Chaim (pursuer of life) - writes about what he calls מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה (mida bimedia) or “measure for measure.”  Putting it another way he is talking about the karma of bad deeds that will impact the future which are tied into spoken words.  The Chofetz Chaim connects מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה (or karma) to what our tradition calls Lashon hara, or evil speech. The idea of lashon hara comes from this week's parasha, Tazria, where a skin affliction called a tzaraat is understood to be leprosy, which our tradition interprets as the affliction of the tongue. The Chofetz Chaim intends to show how lashon hara can have an impact not just at that moment but down the road, and he does that by looking at the story of Judah and Joseph.  In this case although Judah stood up for the life of his brother he opted to sell him into slavery instead. As such Judah’s hate was the basis for selling Joseph into slavery and lying to his father about Joseph dying at the hands of an animal.  For the Chofetz Chaim the long term impact of Judah's words were felt much later in the story of Rehoboam, the son of King Solomon, who was a descendant of Judah. In this case Rehoboam was approached by the people who asked him to remove the heavy burden of taxation and other such concerns upon the nation.  Unfortunately, not only did Rehoboam refuse the request, but said that his rule would be harsher than his father King Solomon.  As a result of Rehoboam’s choices Israel was split into the Northern and Southern Kingdom that led to being exiled into Babylon and the destruction of the first temple.  The Chofetz Chaim teaches that the latter was based on Judah’s unwillingness to forgive, which began a chain of events that he calls מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה (measure for measure), in turn creating bad karma for the generations that followed. 

Maimonides in his Mishneh Torah (Human Dispositions 7) writes, “There is a much more serious sin than [gossip] … that is lashon hara.”  Gossip according to Judaism “causes unforeseen negative consequences.''  Although it is normally unintended to be harmful gossip  - hey did you hear about so and so they are having an affair - there is plenty of harm in that statement!  Lashon hara by design is intended to do harm, which is why it is more serious than gossip.  Maimonides therefore also teaches that refraining from lashon hara has a “prohibition relating to deprecating facts about a colleague, even if they are true.”  Lashon hara is just not about words designed to harm the target of those words, but by default, also those who embrace the words of the one who is attacked.  We read in the Talmud (Arachin 15b) a well known teaching about how lashon hara impacts the “one who speaks malicious speech, and the one who accepts the malicious speech when he hears it, and the one about whom the malicious speech is said.”  More than that we also learn in this Talmud that unless lashon hara is “destroyed” it will “kill” even if not a physical death. Lashon hara is never okay, never just a passive thought or a good suggestion to embrace. 

Again, how do the things we hear today impact us as a Jewish community in connection with this parasha?  Remember that the Book of Leviticus is asking a lot of us in terms of our character and behavior, it can be a hard book to digest because of that. Later on we read in Leviticus 19:2, “You shall be holy, for I, your God יהוה, am holy,” but what does that mean?  While I will save that for another time, you can be sure of this one thing: it has everything to do with how we conduct ourselves in life, which very much includes how we use our words. How many families have been torn apart by powerful words of hate and disagreement over today's climate of politics?  What about the misuse of words designed to hurt Israel that have been given the power to create problems, not just now, but for generations to follow who will no longer support Israel because of words that are not true?  Whether about America's attitude toward Israel or the election, I wonder if the Chofetz Chaim would give the same warning, מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה, the karma of our words could have a negative affect tomorrow.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

Parashat HaShuvah - Ki Tisa - "The Wise Heart Does." Exodus 30:11-34:35, Haftarah, 1 Kings 18:1-39

Last week in Israel I experienced a great deal in a very short period of time.  Anyone who has any kind of pulse on Israel knows that what we read daily in most news outlets doesn't do justice to the reality on the ground.  The society of Israel has many moving parts that we just do not hear about, vital parts that make the whole. Our Torah this week speaks to that very thing.

Here in Ki Tisa we meet two very important people; Bezalel and Oholiav. These men had a skill, a craft assigned to those who were “כל חכם לב“ (col-cacham-leiv), or any wise heart.  In this context כל חכם לב simply means all who are skilled.  Bezael and Oholiav took from some of hat’rumah, “the gifts” that were collected by Moses, and used their skills to cut stones and carve wood, to make the menorah, priestly garments and even the altar.  The Jewish mystical tradition from the Zohar teaches that Bezalel and Oholiav complemented each other.  In this case Bezalel’s soul was rooted in the right side of Divine attributes, those of kindness and love. Oholiav’s soul, on the other hand, was from the left side of judgment and discipline. To build the Tabernacle, a perfect balance of the two sides of the attributes were needed, and that was brought about by Bezalel and Oholiav's diversity of giftings to create something special.

According to the Talmud (Berakhot 55a), “Bezalel was called by that name on account of his wisdom,” a name that means in the shadow of, in this case the shadow of God. Oholiav, literally “fathers tent,” meant that his heart was the “tent” that housed his wisdom.  We further learn in the Talmud (also Berakhot 55a) that wisdom is birthed within us, waiting to be revealed, thus God “only grants wisdom to one who already possesses wisdom.”  In the case of Bezalel and Oholiav their skill is not only a divine gift already possessed within them, but must be exercised to make its mark.  In connection with a person’s gifts, Rabbi Arthur Green in his teaching on Ki Tisa reminds us about the thirteen elements used to build the Mishkan, such as gold, silver, scarlet thread, etc. Rabbi Green likens those 13 elements of material used to the 13th middot of Mussar, which is “devotion,” or mindfulness. Bezalel and Oholiav were mindful of their craft, and devoted their skills to build a holy place for all Israel, recognizing that their gifts were for the benefit of the whole.

Most of the time we hear about the IDF, their efforts to defend a country from detractors who seek their demise all around. Their effort is herculean, not only because they must contend with enemies on every side, but also because they are greatly criticized.  Israel’s attitude despite all the noise and condemnation is very simple: the evil around us must go because it cannot live at our borders any longer. It was beneficial to be there, to hear from the people who are in the midst of this fight, hear about the pain of what is going on and the regret that they must even fight at all, let alone the disappointment with a government that let them down, asking where was our army, why didn't the people who are tasked to protect us see this coming?   But Israel is full of Bezalel’s and Oholiav’s, people who are כל חכם לב, wise of heart, who realize each has a role that is very important, even more so right now.  So not only did we meet with IDF soldiers and other military personal, not to mention the President of Israel - Isaac Herzog,  but we met with representatives of United Hatzalah, Israel Trauma Coalition, Shaarei Zedek Hospital and Zaka, each playing an important role along with the IDF to being about healing and safety throughout the land of Israel and for its people. The fight continues, the tears of loss continue to flow, but so does the determination of those who call Israel home, so much so everywhere you look you read, אנחנו ננצח (anachnu n’netzayach), we will win!

The joint effort of Israel was a lesson for me, a reminder of how each plays a role and no one role is more important than the next.  In Israel, this situation was forced upon them for each to respond, and the “someone else will do it” mentality can mean the difference between life and death. What motivates us if it's not life and death?  Our gifts make the difference in bettering the world around us, our communities, helping those in need and embracing those who feel isolated, using our money and time to support worthy causes and efforts, not to mention as Jews and Jewish families we must support our synagogues to ensure that generations to come will know and live the values of Jewish life. Likewise, we must do what we can to help keep Israel safe from those who seek to wipe Israel off the map. May we too embrace the 13th middot of Mussar, which is “devotion,” or mindfulness, as we use our wisdom of heart to make what is around us better today than it was yesterday. 

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

Parashat HaShuvah - Ki Tisa - "The Wise Heart Does." Exodus 30:11-34:35, Haftarah, 1 Kings 18:1-39

Last week in Israel I experienced a great deal in a very short period of time.  Anyone who has any kind of pulse on Israel knows that what we read daily in most news outlets doesn't do justice to the reality on the ground.  The society of Israel has many moving parts that we just do not hear about, vital parts that make the whole. Our Torah this week speaks to that very thing.

Here in Ki Tisa we meet two very important people; Bezalel and Oholiav. These men had a skill, a craft assigned to those who were “כל חכם לב“ (col-cacham-leiv), or any wise heart.  In this context כל חכם לב simply means all who are skilled.  Bezael and Oholiav took from some of hat’rumah, “the gifts” that were collected by Moses, and used their skills to cut stones and carve wood, to make the menorah, priestly garments and even the altar.  The Jewish mystical tradition from the Zohar teaches that Bezalel and Oholiav complemented each other.  In this case Bezalel’s soul was rooted in the right side of Divine attributes, those of kindness and love. Oholiav’s soul, on the other hand, was from the left side of judgment and discipline. To build the Tabernacle, a perfect balance of the two sides of the attributes were needed, and that was brought about by Bezalel and Oholiav's diversity of giftings to create something special.

According to the Talmud (Berakhot 55a), “Bezalel was called by that name on account of his wisdom,” a name that means in the shadow of, in this case the shadow of God. Oholiav, literally “fathers tent,” meant that his heart was the “tent” that housed his wisdom.  We further learn in the Talmud (also Berakhot 55a) that wisdom is birthed within us, waiting to be revealed, thus God “only grants wisdom to one who already possesses wisdom.”  In the case of Bezalel and Oholiav their skill is not only a divine gift already possessed within them, but must be exercised to make its mark.  In connection with a person’s gifts, Rabbi Arthur Green in his teaching on Ki Tisa reminds us about the thirteen elements used to build the Mishkan, such as gold, silver, scarlet thread, etc. Rabbi Green likens those 13 elements of material used to the 13th middot of Mussar, which is “devotion,” or mindfulness. Bezalel and Oholiav were mindful of their craft, and devoted their skills to build a holy place for all Israel, recognizing that their gifts were for the benefit of the whole.

Most of the time we hear about the IDF, their efforts to defend a country from detractors who seek their demise all around. Their effort is herculean, not only because they must contend with enemies on every side, but also because they are greatly criticized.  Israel’s attitude despite all the noise and condemnation is very simple: the evil around us must go because it cannot live at our borders any longer. It was beneficial to be there, to hear from the people who are in the midst of this fight, hear about the pain of what is going on and the regret that they must even fight at all, let alone the disappointment with a government that let them down, asking where was our army, why didn't the people who are tasked to protect us see this coming?   But Israel is full of Bezalel’s and Oholiav’s, people who are כל חכם לב, wise of heart, who realize each has a role that is very important, even more so right now.  So not only did we meet with IDF soldiers and other military personal, not to mention the President of Israel - Isaac Herzog,  but we met with representatives of United Hatzalah, Israel Trauma Coalition, Shaarei Zedek Hospital and Zaka, each playing an important role along with the IDF to being about healing and safety throughout the land of Israel and for its people. The fight continues, the tears of loss continue to flow, but so does the determination of those who call Israel home, so much so everywhere you look you read, אנחנו ננצח (anachnu n’netzayach), we will win!

The joint effort of Israel was a lesson for me, a reminder of how each plays a role and no one role is more important than the next.  In Israel, this situation was forced upon them for each to respond, and the “someone else will do it” mentality can mean the difference between life and death. What motivates us if it's not life and death?  Our gifts make the difference in bettering the world around us, our communities, helping those in need and embracing those who feel isolated, using our money and time to support worthy causes and efforts, not to mention as Jews and Jewish families we must support our synagogues to ensure that generations to come will know and live the values of Jewish life. Likewise, we must do what we can to help keep Israel safe from those who seek to wipe Israel off the map. May we too embrace the 13th middot of Mussar, which is “devotion,” or mindfulness, as we use our wisdom of heart to make what is around us better today than it was yesterday. 

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

Parashat HaShuvah - Terumah - "The Heart of the Matter." Exodus 25:1-27:19, Haftarah, 1 Kings 5:26-6:13

Last week in Parashat Mishpatim we learned that the listed mitzvot had everything to do with the human heart and therefore are about ndivut (נדיבות), or generosity.  In general these mishpatim sought to protect the vulnerable of society such as widows, orphans, slaves or poor persons, a group in the community who can be taken advantage of by those with aspirations of power and greed.   As such we read one particular mitzvah that says “If you lend money to My people, to the poor among you, do not act toward them as a creditor; exact no interest from them” (Exodus 22:24).

In the multi-volume work, Sefer HaChinuch, its author (a matter of debate in Judaism) tells us that this command is about the partnership between the borrower - what they need - and the lender - what they determine they can give and why.  But lending money to a poor person is also a greater obligation than tzedakah (charity), because the borrower must humble themselves and ask perhaps out of shame, while the giver must not make them feel worse in response and are obligated to help meet that need.  But according to Sefer HaChinuch the purpose of this mitzvah is not to help a poor person get back on their feet in order to fend for themselves going forward. The primary reason has to do with the one who lends the money. In this case we learn that it is the “will” of God to make this a learning opportunity, “teaching” the lender is to be “accustomed” or even “trained” in the Divine inspired inward traits of “kindness and compassion.” Giving to help another is a matter of generosity, but it is also kindness and compassion, which for Torah stems from heart.

But kindness and compassion is far more than a way of being, but is the middah (trait) of ndivut (נדיבות), or generosity we mentioned above. Interestingly we find the same word here in this week's sedra, Parashat Terumah, regarding giving to build the Mishkan; the traveling tabernacle in the wilderness that was the forerunner to the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. Giving things of value, to help build this “sacred space,” was by yidvehnu libo (ידבנו לבו), literally “to make willing his heart” (or to freely donate or contribute). So we read “Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved - yidvehnu libo” (Exodus 25:2). Both ndivut and yidvehnu are of the root n-d-b (נ-ד-ב), although a different verb pattern, but share a common place. In the same way kindness and compassion are foundational middot in order to “lend” to those in need, one must be “willing of heart” in order to “donate” for the sake of the Mishkhan. This type of ndivut, generosity, can only come from a heart of kindness and compassion to unselfishly give for the betterment of others, therefore for oneself.  Here in Terumah that blessing is tied into helping to create the gathering place of the Mishkhan.

As such we read the well known verse that says, “And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them" (Exodus 25:8). According to Sefer HaChinuch this previous verse is not just a happy suggestion, but a command.  As a command, the Torah is making two underlying assumptions.  First, people need a sacred space.  Second, each person is responsible to help make sure others have it. Yet, this verse must be read in partnership with Exodus 25:2 above that giving is a matter of heart and not of compulsion.  So yes, while a command cannot ultimately control a person's actions - that's an issue of personal motivation and free-will - a command has the ability and fortitude to help frame the human journey.  This command asked the people to have generosity (ndivut) with what they own in order to acquire zechut (merit) to help build a place of worship and community gathering. Yet, in order to do that a person has to be willing to give of, and from, themselves. But for Torah, the giving to protect the needy of the community (from Parashat Mishpatim) and the giving to help build the Mishkan (this week) for community gathering and worship, are no different.

It is no different today either. How many emails do we receive from organizations asking for money to give to Israel right now, let alone other places such as the American Cancer Society or Red Cross (the list can go on of course).  Giving of resources is one thing, but there is the giving of our time and effort, something that always battles the limitations of not only time, but allegiance and obligations to other matters. Whether asked to give generously to the building campaign of our synagogue or to be apart of the team that delivers food to the homeless every Sunday, both are a matter of ndivut, both are a matter of self-sacrifice, and both are a matter of kindness and compassion that is motivated by yidvehnu libo, freely doing so out of goodness, not matter what we may be doing. This is the heart of the matter.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky

Parashat HaShuvah - Mishpatim - "Mutil-Level Living." Exodus 21:1-24:18, Haftarah, Isaiah 66:1-24

Parashat Mishpatim begins, “These are the rules (mishpatim) that you shall set before them.” Jewish tradition teaches that the mishpatim (ordinance, judgements) were also given at Sinai; the “ten words” in the morning and the “mishpatim” in the evening (Midrash, Shemot Rabbah 30:3).  Nevertheless, what can we learn about their placement after the ten words?   

One of the first topics of mishpatim (53 of the 613 mitzvot are here) has to do with the laws about slave ownership (Exodus 21:2-11).  Ibn Ezra teaches, “There is nothing more difficult for a person than to be subjugated to another person. This is why the Parshah begins with the laws of how the Hebrew slave is to be treated.” The Torah does not speak against the idea of slavery (“servant” in this context), but is concerned about the dignity, rights and honor of a slave.  Issues such as the mistreatment of a slave, to also include bodily injury and even death, as well as slave property rights, are listed in juxtaposition with the responsibilities of the owner. This is held in contrast to Pharaoh who owned the slaves in Egypt but had no responsibilities or accountability to how those slaves were treated.  As Torah teaches, both slave or master (analogous to employee-employer) are (supposed to be) equally free since both are created in the image of the divine and receive the same honor. 

Parshat Mishpatim is also a further explanation of the “ten words.”  Such themes in Mishpatim include crimes against others (do not kill, do not steal), animal rights, respect of another person's property and awarded damages (do not covet), fair treatment of others and ethical behaviors (honor your mother and father, do not lie), equal rights in law and judgment (Keeping the Sabbath is equal for all, servant or master alike). The general message here, as it is with the slaves, has to do with equal rights that are framed as civil order. The divine mandate of equality is found as the standard of continuity between disputing parties rather than the genesis of the commandments (see. Exodus 22:8), or as a bridge linking the fair treatment between a creditor and a borrower with ethical business practices (Exodus 22:27).  The entire premise of such laws again begins with the theme that all are equal in judgment regardless of the situation. 

Rashi also embraces (per the above Midrash) that both the ten words and the ordinances (the mishpatim of this parasha) are a product of Sinai.  But Rashi raises the following issue: "Why is this section dealing with the ‘civil laws’ placed immediately after that commanding the making of the altar?” (see Exodus 20:21-22).  His answer, “To tell you that you should seat (i.e. provide quarters for) the Sanhedrin in the vicinity of the Temple.”  The “ten words” (law) stood next to the Altar (religious/spiritual).  In the same way the Sanhedrin adjudicated (law) everyday life sitting next to the Holy Temple, the Beit Hamikdash (religious/spiritual).

In his work, Shmirat HaLashon (Guarding our speech), the Chofetz Chaim teaches that all human good is impeded by the acts of “lashon hara” (evil speech) and “rechilut” (gossip).  But it is not just those sins per our tradition that Chofetz Chaim compares to murder (Talmud, Arachin 15b), but also harm from bad behaviors. Thus the Sages taught "Blessed is he who does not smite his friend,” which for the Chofetz Chaim includes acts of “theft, robbery, cheating, and the like” that have everything to do with the denigration of human dignity and rights. As such, the Chofetz Chaim further teaches that “because of the sin of lashon hara the Shechinah (presence of the Divine) departs from Israel,” disconnecting basic human decency from the divine image within.  Putting it another way, Rabbi Arthur Green says this belief that all is One (think Shema) “rejects that there is a sharp division between the spiritual life and the commitment to societal transformation.”  In Judaism our worldly behaviors are intertwined with our divine spark within. This is part of the message in Mishpatim.  

Daily we are reminded of that relationship, in Jewish morning prayer we read, “Lord of all Worlds” (רִבּוֹן כָּל הָעוֹלָמִים), notice not “world” (עוֹלָם) but “worlds” (עוֹלָמִים).  We are human on many levels, and while our bodily presence is intertwined with our divine image, we also live in the physical world being guided from the inner convictions of that image. That is Judaism, wide enough to fit us all, but a multilevel existence.  Mishpatim makes it clear that within the boundary of Law (and their laws differ from ours naturally) if human rights and ways are subjugated to others the result will be transgressions against human equality.  Avoiding all that can be said about happenings around the world, as our hearts continue to be heavy regarding Israel and other events both abroad and at home, I will say this; while the subject of Law will always include disagreement and frustration, the subject of human equality must be the forerunner in every Jewish conversation, either in Washington or at home.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky