• This Week's Torah Portion

While last week’s parashah, Yitro, was about law in its biggest, most symbolic sense, this week’s parashah, Mishpatim, is about law on a much more human scale. It’s the difference between the Declaration of Independence and the articles and amendments of the Constitution-a vision statement versus a roadmap. With Mishpatim we begin to receive the map which will help us traverse the complicated territory in which we find ourselves: life with other people. Mishpatim is the beginning of the law code that governed the ancient Jewish community. Its principles provide the foundations of the systems and values that guide us today. It touches on the treatment of others, personal injury, damages caused by neglect and theft, crimes like murder and kidnapping, unfair business practices, and unjust treatment by judges. It also outlines rules for Shabbat, sabbatical year, and holiday observances. Mishpatim outlines a vision of society of interlocking rights and responsibilities, daily life and sacred celebrations, and cautions us to remember three principles in particular, which can be tempting to ignore or forget when not in our interest: the privileged must look out for the vulnerable, we have responsibilities even to our enemies, and the people tasked with judging and enforcing the laws must take special care not to show bias, lest the whole system fall apart. In his commentary on this portion, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks argues that “the greatness of Judaism is not simply in its noble vision of a free, just, compassionate society, but in the way it brings this vision down to earth in detailed legislation.” He cites an example from Exodus 22:26-27: “If you take your neighbor’s cloak in pledge, return it before the sun sets; it is the only available clothing – it is what covers the skin. In what else shall [your neighbor] sleep? Therefore, if that person cries out to Me, I will pay heed, for I am compassionate.” Sacks calls this “law with a human face.” While there is an economic transaction happening here (someone borrows money and gives the lender an item of clothing as collateral), Torah compels us to also honor the human being involved. In strictly legal terms, the lender might be in his rights to hold the pledge, but as decent society depends on more than legal rights, we are taught to notice and factor in the possibility that this person is poor and needs the cloak to make it through the night. It is one thing to extend ourselves for the sake of the obviously poor or vulnerable. It is even more difficult to contemplate extending ourselves for the sake of an enemy. But in Exodus 23:5, that’s exactly what we are challenged to do: “If you see your enemy’s donkey sagging under its burden, you shall not pass by. You shall surely help it.” Two principles are in play here. First is our obligation to pay attention to the suffering of other living creatures. Just because two humans are enemies does not mean that an innocent animal should suffer. Second, we are obligated to remember that our enemy is also a person in our community whom we still have obligations towards. In Bava Metzia 32b, the Talmud takes this idea further, stating “If (the animal of) a friend requires unloading, and an enemy’s unloading, you should first help your enemy-in order to suppress the evil inclination.” Both parties need help but, in the case of the enemy, there is also the challenge of overcoming antipathy and estrangement. It is certainly the harder path, but our sages say it should take precedence. It is worth noting the line in our portion which says, “You shall surely release [the burden] with [your enemy].” The Aramaic translations Targum Onkelos and Targum Yonatan both extend the concept of release beyond the physical to the psychological: “You shall surely let go of the hate you have in your heart with them.” But this is only possible when the work is done together, which is why it emphasizes that it should be done with them. If the problem is enmity between people, the efforts of only one party towards resolution will always be insufficient. It is only when both people work together that meaningful change is possible. The law is not asking us to be superhuman-if the owner is capable but refuses to help, you are released from the obligation. However, the law is asking us to stretch beyond our comfort zone because this is the path towards peace. This work is not easy, but it is deeply honorable. In the words of Rabbi Natan, “Who is a hero? One who turns an enemy into a friend” (Avot de-Rabbi Natan, 23). While many of the laws of Mishpatim are primarily interpersonal, our portion also speaks directly to the special role of judges, an acknowledgement that the best laws are not worth the parchment they’re written on if the community cannot trust the impartiality of those tasked with enforcing them. Exodus 23:6-8 says,

You shall not subvert the rights of your needy in their disputes. Keep far from a false charge (fraudulent claim); do not bring death on those who are innocent and in the right, for I (God) will not acquit the wrongdoer. Do not take bribes, for bribes blind the clear-sighted and upset the pleas of those who are in the right.

It is hard to resist the temptation to favor the wealthy and powerful, to give preference to those we know or have sympathy for. But a social system grounded in the rule of law depends on people having a fair hearing and a reasonable expectation that justice will be served, regardless of whom it favors.