Setting Off On The Path of Holiness: Mishpatim

Setting Off On The Path of Holiness

D’var Torah for Parashat Mishpatim

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

This week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim (“Ordinances”, Ex. 21:1—24:18), picks up where the Ten Commandments left off last week.  Mishpatim gives us not ten, but 53 commandments.  With 23 positive commandments and 30 prohibitions, this list is the second longest in the whole Torah.

This list of commandments is also crucial to a fuller understanding of the Torah as a system of progress and change.

There are some pretty harsh laws in this parasha.  A lot of people would be put to death if we still followed these, including (but not restricted to): anyone accused of desecrating the Sabbath; anyone dabbling in witchcraft; or any boy who so much as raises his hand to hit his parents.  Whether he actually hits them or not doesn’t matter; the punishment is still the same—death.  And if you thought that was harsh, two verses down we learn that even if he only mocks or curses his parents, the punishment is still death!  Ouch!

This is the portion where we find the often-quoted law, “A life for a life, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a limb for a limb” (Ex. 21:23-25).

It’s enough to turn anyone away from religion—or at least from any religion that espouses such strict laws.

Yet to view or quote these laws out of context is to do oneself—and the Torah—a disservice.  For this is just the starting point of a long legal discussion, one which still continues to this day.  The fact is that these were the laws of the land in the Middle East around 3000 years ago.  They are found in ancient Mesopotamian legal codes, some of which predate Moses by anywhere from 500 to 2000 years, yet which form the basis for the laws we find in the Torah.

Of course there’s no denying the written letter.  Disobeying authority in ancient time meant destabilizing the most basic tenets and pillars of society.  That simply couldn’t be allowed if society was to survive.  And truth be told, we modern people aren’t much different from our ancient predecessors who lived 3000 years ago.  We still try to get away with as much as we can.  Often enough only the threat of severe and costly punishment deters us from breaking rules.  And sometimes, even that doesn’t stop us.

Yet the obvious absurdity of lex talionis (the laws of retribution—e.g. an eye for an eye) does not escape the wise scrutiny of the Torah.  Nor does the law commanding death for a boy who disses his parents or threatens to hit them.

Almost immediately, we see change and evolution set in. Lex talionis may have been fine for Hammurabi and his society; but for Moses, a much more ethical and practical alternative is financial restitution.  And as for the rebellious teenager, after lengthy discussion, the rabbis conclude that such a case never did and never could come up.  They start off their argument with the verses from Mishpatim (Ex. 21: 15, 17), continue with Deuteronomy 21:18-21 and finish off with lengthy passages in the Midrash and Talmud, adding so many criteria, restrictions and exceptions that the whole dispute becomes ridiculous and, ultimately, moot.

The Torah is indeed the foundation of all Jewish law—but its laws reflect the time and society for which they were written.  To dismiss the entire body of Jewish Law based only on its fundamentals, without looking at later revisions and emendations, is as silly as the original “eye for an eye” law.  Because when we throw the system out, we also throw away the entire structure of discussion and revision that followed Moses and which continues to this day.

Conditions of life, greater understanding of human nature, situations that ancient societies had no inkling of—change necessitates change.  A busy intersection may need a traffic light; but if the town is deserted, there is no need to keep the light flashing.  It is no longer a dangerous intersection.

What Judaism tries to do is to keep the spirit of the law even as its details evolve.

In some other cases, the Torah tries to control a practice it knows cannot be stopped; yet, because this practice can—and often does—lead to all kinds of abuse, it needs to be regulated.  Take slavery, a human condition that is as ancient as humanity itself, one that stubbornly persists to this day.  The evils of slavery are too innumerable to list.  Think cruelty and greed; think human trafficking, particularly of women and children; think child abuse.  There is no doubt that slavery is an evil in itself.  Yet it persists. 

The Torah cannot put a total stop to slavery, but what it can do—and does in the very first verses of Mishpatim—is to limit the power a master has over his slaves.  A Hebrew slave must be freed at the end of six years of servitude.  A freed slave must be set free along with his family.  A slave cannot be sent out penniless; he must be helped in starting out his new life, lest he fall into debt and slavery once again, an inescapable trap for so many people in impoverished, benighted countries.

What cannot be stopped outright, the Torah attempts to limit and control, leaving it up to future generations to prohibit.

The Torah’s truths may be divine and eternal—its words, however, are ours to change and interpret.  The legal process of progress and evolution is ongoing.  It began as soon as the law was first proposed, and still continues today.  Courts of Jewish law, headed by knowledgeable—and, hopefully, compassionate—rabbis, make Halakhah (Jewish law) a living and dynamic system.  That is why the Torah didn’t simply become obsolete in time, disappearing and making Judaism disappear with it.  The Torah’s laws evolve as society does.  Progress cannot be stopped.

The trick is to keep the thread alive, a constant lifeline to the day when, 3200 years ago, these ordinances were first proposed as the foundation for a new way of life, one based on justice, fairness and compassion.  Since then, we have learned to build a culture based not only on limits and controls, but also on the possibility of change and evolution.

Mishpatim, “Ordinances,” thus sets the parameters for human behavior, all the way from what must not be, to what might be.  Ever since the day we first accepted these laws, we, students and followers of the Torah, have been engaged in exploring and finding our place on this spectrum, some veering toward a more strict interpretation, others to a more liberal one. 

The important thing is to stay on the path.  It is, after all, as we see it, the path of justice, righteousness and, ultimately, of holiness.

© 2014 by Boaz D. Heilman