Parashat Shoftim - The Pursuit of Justice

 

“Other cultures discovered order, Yisrael discovered Justice,” - Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks

Parashat Shoftim, this week’s Torah portion (Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9) centers on structures of justice, leadership and authority in the Yisraelite society. While other portions are more narrative based or ritual centered, Shoftim lays out the framework for a just society and its insitutions.

There are four roles of leadership that are discussed in the Parashah. They are clearly defined and are aimed at ensuring the separation and preventing abuse of powers, in ancient Yisrael.

The first is the appointment of Judges and the establishment of the court system. The second is the king who exercises a limited monarchy with restrictions. The priests and the Levites  are the third. They are entrusted with spiritual and moral authority. The fourth role is the one held by the prophets who act as moral and divine authority, true vs. false prophets.

Don Yitzchak Abrabanel emphasizes that the Torah deliberately distributes authority among these four roles. Such distribution, he asserts, where each power checks the other ensures that no one branch becomes harsh or tyrannical thus creating a system that balances justice with compassion and morality. This essay focuses on the role of judges and the delivery of justice.

The Torah describes two main sources for Moshe’s education and knowledge of the court system. The first, Yitro, his father- in- law who introduced and taught him about the practice and its structure. The second, G-d who sanctioned it and commanded its authority and permanence.

 In Exodus 18:13–26), Yitro advises Moshe to “Provide from among the people men of valour, G-d-fearing, men of truth, who hate unjust gain, and appoint them as officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens.” Yitro’s guidance also introduces Moshe to the framework of a hierarchical judicial system of decentralized courts, with lower courts handling easier cases and only the most difficult cases reaching Moshe. G-d’s Divine sanction and expansion in the form of a formal mitzvah calls to appoint (by recognized authorities, which the Sifrei, a midrashic halachic commentary, defines as the leaders of the tribe, and not elected by popular vote) judges in every city with justice bound by Torah law (Deuteronomy 16:18).

The criteria for appointing judges require that they be men of valour (Deuteronomy 16:18-20), possess “wisdom,” “understanding”  and be “respected”(Deuteronomy 1:13).  Ramba”n explains that these traits mean having deep Torah knowledge, the ability to apply principles to new situations and maintaining a strong reputation among the people. Judges should display fear of G-d , honesty, impartiality and rejection of bribes (Exodus, 18:21), (Leviticus, 19:15). 

This shows that the Torah envisions a justice system based not on popularity, favouritism, but on equality as well as moral and spiritual integrity.

The justice system established by Moshe was revolutionary for its time, compared to other main Ancient Near Eastern legal practices and structures such as the Code of Hammurabi, Hittite laws and others.

Firstly, the Torah decrees that justice comes directly from G-d “For judgment is G-d’s” (Deuteronomy 1:17). This makes law sacred above human rulers. Even the kings must obey G-d’s law. Judges are commanded to act as representatives of G-d’s will. In other ancient near eastern societies, laws were issued by kings who claimed divine authority but were, themselves, above the law. Hammurabi, for instance, claimed that the gods chose him to “establish justice,” yet not judged by the law himself. 

Secondly, unlike other ancient Mesopotamian cultures where laws were often applied differently based on class and status which primarily protected the power of kings, the elites and the hegemony, the Torah commands the system to protect the vulnerable, restrain rulers, and elevate justice into a universal principle of “one law for all” (Exodus 12:49, Leviticus 24:22). This means that even the powerless, the orphan, the widow and the ger (stranger/foreigner), society’s weakest, are protected (Deuteronomy 24:17-18).

Whereas in ancient Near-Eastern societies harsh punishments were common, reflecting power and deference rather than mercy, in the Torah, while strict, justice is tempered by compassion (Exodus 22:21-23) and limits on punishment (“eye for an eye” interpreted as monetary compensation). 

Finally, in other systems, courts were ad hoc and king-centered. Moshe established a network of judges in every city (Deuteronomy 16:18) and cities of refuge to prevent blood vengeance.

In his commentary on the parashah, Rabbi Lord Sacks states, “Judaism…sees society as the arena in which specific ideals are realized: justice, compassion, the rule of law combined with respect for the sanctity of life and the dignity of the individual. The Torah is a unique attempt to create a nation governed not by the pursuit of power or the accumulation of wealth but by recognition of the worth of each person as the image of G-d. 

Moshe’s justice system certainly reflects these principles. It is not about maintaining order- it is about creating a society that manifests G-d’s justice and human dignity.

Kedoshim - The Equality of Holiness

 

“Speak to the Whole Yisraelite Community. Say: ‘Be holy, for I am holy; I, the Lord your G-d,’” Leviticus 19:1-2

 

These verses which open Kedoshim, this week’s Torah portion, convey an unequivocal directive which states that all members of Am Yisrael belong to the level of holiness. Every member of the community can equally reach it, if only they wish.

“What we witness here asserts Rabbi Sacks, ZT”L, is the radical democratization of holiness. Priesthood, in the ancient world, was not exclusive to Am Yisrael, as the Torah shares with us on several occasions. Whereas in other societies, it was reserved to the elite, in this parashah, according to Sacks, “for the first time, we find a code of holiness directed to the People as a whole.” Religion is no longer hierarchical as was prevalent in the idolatrous ancient world.

The designation of Am Yisrael as a “holy nation” was mentioned by G-d already in Exodus 19:5-6. There He says, “And now, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, then you will be a special possession among the peoples, even among all earth.”  In Kedoshim, however, that proclamation has become an order. Each member of the community is formally sanctioned and commanded to “be holy,” to fulfill the vocation that G-d destined for them in Exodus.

What follows this directive is a long list of laws and rituals which include some of those chronicled in the Ten Commandments. These, naturally, are aimed at guiding and helping every Yisraelite live a life of holiness.

Our sages differ on the course of reaching “holiness.”  While Ramba”m and Rash”i believe that it can be achieved only by performing the mitzvot (commandments), Ramba”n asserts that it can be obtained by abstaining from an opulent way of life. According to Ohr Ha’Chaim, the only way to attain it is through enduring harsh experiences. Whatever the means all three sources (and many others) suggest, they are all based on the same premise of “holiness” that is expected of Am Yisrael.

Rebbi Berel Wein offers a different perspective at viewing this parashah. According to him,  “Kedoshim is not exclusively meant to represent holiness in the common usage of the word.” Those who are well versed in the Hebrew language would know that the root K,D,SH could also suggest dedication or devotion, in this case, to G-d and to the covenant that was entered between Him and Am Yisrael at Mount Sinai.

As our sages point out, some of the mitzvot which constitute that covenant are what Rabbi Sacks terms as “chok, ‘a statute,’ often understood as a law that has no reason, or at least none that we can understand.”  Adhering to and performing such commandments is a confirmation of our devotion and ongoing faith in G-d. “This is a cardinal principle in the relationship between G-d and us,” explains Rabbi Mendi Kaminker. “We must perform Mitzvot out of devotion and obedience to G-d even if we do not grasp them because this is His will.” He further elaborates that when it comes to mitzvot which we do understand, we should not observe merely because we know their underlying reason, but rather aspire to reach the G-dly, the holy component which is above our rationale.

 

Rabbi Berel Wein further suggests that in G-d’s relations with Am Yisrael, His dedication and devotion is reciprocal. “The Lord, Himself,” proposes Wein, “so to speak, describes His own Being as being not only holy but also being dedicated - dedicated to fulfill His Will,” to educate the world and teach His values system and code of ethics, “through the People of Yisrael, their behavior, events and destiny.”

Chaz”l, also comment on these verses. Their interpretation stems from the words, “for I am holy: I, the Lord, your G-d.” Since the purpose of performing the mitzvot, they believe, is to purge and sanctify us, we, in turn, sanctify G-d. What Chaza”l are teaching us is that, apparently, G-d’s holiness depends on that of Am Yisrael (Torat Ha’Kohanim Kedoshim, 1).

Whichever way we understand these verses, they all lead, in my view, to the conclusion and the lesson that is derived from Rabbi Sacks’s lucid essay on the parashah. His commentary brings to light the revolutionary notion that holiness is not reserved to a selected few, as was the custom in the ancient world. Each member of Am Yisrael, not only has the potential to be holy but, also, has the duty to strive to achieve holiness. As representatives of the one and only G-d, their holiness will directly affect the presence of His level of holiness in the world.

Metzora - The Importance of Introspection

 

      “We are souls dressed up in sacred biochemical garments and our bodies are the instruments through which our souls play.” – Albert Einstein

 

Last week’s Torah portions, Tazria and Metzora continue to address the laws of purity which began in Shemini. In Tazria, G-d instructs Moshe about the rituals of purification for mothers following childbirth.

The second parashah (Torah portion), Metzora, focuses on the laws of tzara’at which, according to our sages, is mistakenly translated as leprosy. “It is not a physical disease,” asserts Rabbi David Rosenfeld, of Aish, “…. it can appear on innate objects like clothing and buildings which is something physical diseases can’t do. Rather,” he continues, “tzara’at is a spiritual malady.” The parashah goes on to address the laws concerning the atonement and treatment of the condition, the healing process by the High Priest and the sacrifices which the afflicted person has to offer to G-d.

The notion that tzara’at is a spiritual condition rather than physical is also proposed by Rabbi David Agmon. According to him, were tzara’at a somatic malady, it would follow that it should be named after the doctor that is sent to heal the sick person. Instead, the parashah describes the ailments that are diagnosed and treated by the High Priest through the process of purification. “What does it tell us about the spiritual attribute of leprosy?” asks Rabbi Agmon.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, ZT”L, likewise, suggests that the Rabbis “moralized the condition of tzara’at.” According to them, it was a punishment rather than a medical condition and not for any sin but for one specific sin, that of leshon hara, evil speech. This interpretation, explains Sacks, “was based on the internal evidence in the Torah itself.” The first is described in Exodus 4:6-7 where Moshe’s hand became leprous after expressing doubt the readiness of the Yisraelites to believe him. The second incident is mentioned in Numbers 12:1-15 where Miriam was struck by leprosy after denigrating Moshe.

Though tzara’at may possibly be a type of skin infection, our sages claim that it is wreaked as a Divine message and not by natural means. They explain that the term “metzora” is an acronym for “motzi leshon hara” a person who speaks disparagingly about others (Babylonian Talmud, Erkin15:1).

 The Torah does not provide a clear directive against leshon hara, evil speech, it strictly prohibits gossip, “You shall not go about spreading gossip among your people” (Leviticus 19:16). Leshon hara, is considered one of the worst transgressions of all. Maimonides, one of our greatest sages, construes it as “There is a far greater sin that falls under this prohibition [of gossip]. It is ‘the evil tongue,’ which refers to whoever speaks derogatorily of his fellow, even though he speaks the truth.” (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Deot 7:2). Evil speech, claim our sages, kills three people – the one who says it, the one who accepts it, and the one about whom it is said. (Hilchot Deot 7:3). Nothing keeps us farthest from G-d than leshon hara, contends Ohr HaChaim (Rabbi Chaim ben Attar).

A close examination of the laws of tzara’at, its consequences and the peculiar purification process by the High Priest, as described in the parashah, reinforces the spiritual significance of the syndrome.

One of the consequences of having tzara’at requires that the contaminated individual is commanded to separate himself from the community and stay outside the camp by himself, “leave your home, go beyond the city limits and just sit alone with no one to talk to!” (Leviticus 13:46).

To an innocent bystander, this directive may seem harsh considering that the source of this ailment is spiritual, a form of punishment for sinful conduct rather than physical or contagious.

And this is the great lesson that our Rabbis wish to teach us. According to them, the process of isolation, which is consequential to leaving the camp, is meant to bring us to reflection, introspection and repentance.

Our body is our guide, our Scriptures teach us, the guide to our inner self. In the words of Job, “….in my flesh I will see G-d” (Job 19:26). Our body is the channel through which the Divine message is passed on to us. It is, as Einstein expressed in the above quote, “the instrument through which our souls play.” If part of us is impure, it tends to manifest itself physically to allow us to treat, mend and heal. Our first instinct, generally, is to blame outside factors for our ailments. The Torah instructs us to examine ourselves, search our inner self, not look at others or blame them. This is essential to commence our healing process. Remedy of the soul is the root of physical health.

Just as the Metzora cannot be part of his camp so long as he is diseased, so cannot those who sin against their fellow men and women be part of our society. Only after they wake up, amend their ways and heal can they embark on the path towards a healthy and fulfilling life for themselves and our society.

Ner Tamid (Perpetual Light)

 

                                      “Command the Yisraelites to bring you clear oil of pressed olives for the                                             illumination of the perpetual light.”  - Exodus 27:2

Throughout history and across cultures, the notion of Light is one of the most universal and central symbols. Unlike darkness, which is associated with evil, suffering and the unknown, Light, conveys goodness, hope and spirituality.

The concept of Light runs like a golden thread in Judaism, its tradition and commandments and captures an immense role and significance in our Jewish culture. It is almost impossible to fathom Judaism without the notion of Light and candles which are used for various functions such as holy days celebrations and as commemoration and other special occasions.

G-d’s directive regarding Ner Tamid, above, was given to Moshe as part of the commandment to construct the Tabernacle, the portable earthly dwelling of G-d which was used by Am Yisrael throughout their wanderings in the desert until the conquest of Canaan. The instructions to assemble the Tabernacle such as its measurements, listing the vessels and their roles, the garb of the priests or the performance of the rituals, also include detailed guidelines surrounding the precepts and affiliated role and purpose of Ner Tamid (Leviticus 6:5-6).

Upon the erection of Solomon’s Temple, all rituals and religious duties, including those surrounding Ner Tamid, were relocated and placed in it. After the destruction of the Temple, the tradition of Ner Tamid was shifted to the synagogue where it is placed in front of Aron haKodesh, Ark of the Holy, where the Torah scrolls are kept.

The theme of Light can be spotted in various places along our Tana”ch and symbolizes different quality. For instance, the term is an important component of the constitutive and well-known idiomatic phrases concerning our calling as a People. Our destiny to be a “Light unto the Nations” is proclaimed by the prophet Isaiah (42:6). The role that G-d has fated for us, as a “Nation of Priests,” according to Isaiah, was to represent Him to the world by our meritorious lifestyle and by becoming a beau ideal to humanity.

For King Solomon, though, Light symbolizes the Spirit of Man as he suggests in Proverbs 20:27: “The human spirit is the lamp of G-d that sheds light on one’s inmost being.” For others, such as Erica Brown, the light of the Ner Tamid is a reminder of “the flame that burned but did not consume the burning bush where Moses received his calling.” (“The perpetual flame: Thoughts on Parashat Tzav”. The Torah Leadership, March 30, 2023).

The absence of Light, on the other hand, is used as a form of punishment, in our Jewish scriptures. In the Babylonian Talmud, Megillah tractate, for instance, Rabbi Yosi (1st century) quotes one of the curses that Moshe warned Am Yisrael against, lest they move away from their Covenant with G-d, “At midday you will grope about like a blind person in the dark” (Deuteronomy 28:29). In its literal meaning, this curse denotes that even at noon, when it is expected to be light, darkness shall prevail.

Rabbi Yossi, however, recounts the following story which helps us understand this verse differently and in a more positive, uplifting and optimistic manner. As he was leaving the prayer house, one evening, shares with us Rabbi Yosi, he met a blind man. The blind man held a burning torch which spread a bright light.

Rather surprised, Rabbi Yosi stopped and asked the man for the purpose of holding the torch. After all, if the man is blind, then day and night should look the same as far as his blindness was concerned.

The blind man explained that so long as he was holding the burning torch, people could see him and save him from getting hurt. The torch, asserted the blind and wise man, was not to show him the way, but rather to ensure that others noticed him and came to his rescue. For him the burning flame of the torch provided Faith and Trust. It was a holy fire.

It is this kind of “holy fires” that Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, ZT”L is referring to in his column in The Times, “Somehow faith outlives every attempt to destroy it. Its symbol is not the fierce fire that burned synagogues and sacred scrolls and murdered lives. It is the fragile flame we, together with our children and grandchildren, light in our homes, singing G-d’s story, sustained by our hope.” (“The Flame of Faith that has Survived all Tyranny,” The Times, December 19, 2008).

May the Perpetual Light of the Ner Tamid continue to shine over us all and point us in the right direction where we can bind with our fellow men and women and, together, continue to bask in the glory of Hope and Wisdom that it spreads for the benefit of us all.

 

Happy Purim, dear Am Yisrael 

Yom Kippur and Yisraeli Democracy

 

Yom Kippur is the holiest day on the Jewish calendar. I doubt that many will disagree.

For me, Yom Kippur bears a unique significance for a few reasons. It was a tradition in my family ever since I can remember. Its reverence vibrates in every part of my essence. In addition to its piety among our Jewish Holy Days, Yom Kippur also bears poignant sadness as it brings to the surface memories of the Yom Kippur war and its painful losses.

The observance of this sacred day is commanded in the Torah, in Vayikra (Leviticus 23:28-320: “You shall not perform any work on that very day…. and you shall afflict yourselves.” Furthermore, G-d warns that any disobedience will be followed by severe punishment and any person “who will not be afflicted on that very day, shall be cut off from its people. And any person who performs any work on that day, I will destroy that person from amidst its people.”

This, a few millennia old, directive, sounds appaling and scary, does it not? What a menacing scenario - the embodiment of theocratic dictatorship, so it seems.

The inevitable and eminent enforcement of that commandment is what some have tried to warn us against for close to a year. Yisrael, they keep parroting, is going to turn into a replica of Iran, G-d forbid.

Not quite.

On the Eve of Yom Kippur, as I was making my way to services in a nearby makeshift synagogue, dressed in white and immersed in the cloak of holiness, I watched my many fellow Yisraelis who were flocking the traffic free streets. While some were, like me, observing that commandment, others were playing with their children who were riding their bikes, some of which were electrical and enjoying themselves. A few were busy texting or speaking on their mobile telephones. Some were wearing shorts and dressed casually. I even noticed one or two drinking water out of plastic bottles. As I walked past them, I wished them “Chatima Tova,” the traditional greeting on that day. They responded in kind.

Having been warned, repeatedly, that religious dictatorship was upon us, I was surprised to see that none of the “disobedient” souls were scolded, stoned, or destroyed. My hawk eyes were searching for the secret “dress code police” ready to arrest the culprits. Alas, to no avail.

What I did sense, though, is what the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks termed as “The Dignity of Difference.”

As I approached the place of worship, I noticed many other folks entering it. They were young, they were old. They were dressed in the customary white attire while others were wearing torn jeans. Some women even entered it with their bare arms and shoulders exposed.

No one stopped them. No one scolded them. No one denied them entry, and no one sent them back home to change their garments. Surprisingly enough, even here the “theocratic dress police” was nowhere to be found.

“The Dignity of Difference,” was welcoming all who sought to pray indiscriminately.

Upon entering the room, as I always do, I seek a place in the women’s section (generally front row) and make myself comfortable. I personally prefer separate sections for men and women. Is it because of habit? Perhaps. Whatever the reason, I love it.

Before anyone jumps at me on that point, let me interject and add that separate seating for men and women is not the only setting available in Yisrael. A childhood friend of mine who wishes to sit next to her partner during prayer, elects to attend a reform synagogue. We continue to respect each other and accept our respective choices. Each to their own.

Indeed, there are those of us who continue to practice “The Dignity of Difference.”

Some parts of the service also include chanting. As a former singer, it is perfect for me. From what I know, some religious sectors bar women from joining in the invocation. They base it on Halachah. It is their choice and a difference that needs to be dignified. Exclusion of women is what a few elements in Yisrael have been warning and threatening us against. As I was singing, I stealthily checked around the hall in search for hints of the covert secret “religious police” lest its representatives come and arrest me for practicing my freedom of chanting.

Instead, “The Dignity of Difference” was smiling at me from every corner.

What did, however, catch my attention, admittedly for the first time, even though I have attended Yom Kippur services for many years, is one line, part of “Kol Nidrei,” a prayer which ushers in Yom Kippur. “Kol Nidrei” (All Vows) which is recited in Aramaic nullifies the binding nature of promises and vows in advance. They are declared invalid. All vows “are absolved, remitted, cancelled, declared null and void.” The line that struck me and sent shivers through my body is the one offering forgiveness to the entire congregation of am Yisrael and EQUALLY “to the stranger/foreigner who resides amongst them.”

Now, you tell me, dear readers, if that is not the epitome of “The Dignity of Difference.”

“The Dignity of Difference” amid members of any nation as well as towards the strangers amongst them is one of the most important pillars of any democracy. It is part of the Jewish D.N.A and is evident in almost every aspect that characterizes the modern-day State of Yisrael, the National Home of the Jewish People. Yom Kippur is but one example.

It is noteworthy to mention that the group which sets up these makeshift synagogues is “Herzliya Torah Center” (Garin Torani) headed by Tsachi Weiss. Tzachi and his team have been doing it for several years thus making participation in the High Holy Days accessible to all who wish to partake in them. The service is conducted by residents of Judea and Samaria who leave their homes and families during this special time of year to bestow upon us the blessing of the experience.

And what an experience it has been.

Chatima Tova to you, fellow Jews and Am Yisrael and a wonderful year to all.