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
No comments:
Post a Comment