Justice Is Holiness

Justice Is Holiness
D’var Torah for Parashat Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1—24:18)
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

Misconceptions about Biblical law have led some people to surmise that these laws are overly harsh and even cruel. Nothing could be further from the truth. While it is true that some Biblical laws reflect the primitive cultural background in which they originated, this week’s Torah portion can teach us much about the philosophy and evolution of Jewish law.

The biggest difference between the Jewish perception of law and its counterpart among the neighboring peoples in ancient days is that, in the Jewish view, no one is exempt from the law. Hammurabi’s code—preceding Moses’s by some 500 years—as well as other, even more ancient codes, reflect a very different kind of thinking: The king was above the law. The author of the law—who often presented himself a god—had absolute power over the law, amending it as necessary so as never to be susceptible to it himself.

Not Moses, not Aaron, nor any of the kings of ancient Israel could ever be of such exalted status. By positing God above all humanity, by making God the source of all law, no human being could ever claim to be above the law. Any transgressor, whatever his or her social status, could and would be held accountable for the crime committed.

A second element of Jewish law becomes apparent through a more careful reading of this portion. As understanding of human nature progresses, as societal conditions change, so must the law. The process of the evolution of Jewish law can already be seen in this portion, as ancient laws are stated and immediately challenged. Thus, for example, the laws pertaining to killing. Exodus chapter 21 verse 12 states the category (the pre-existing law): “He who strikes a man so that he dies shall surely be put to death.” There is no disputing the harshness of this law. It is as clear as daylight. If you kill, you will be killed. Yet, to rational minds, this begs an argument: What if the killing was accidental? The following verses discuss this very question, concluding that a fair judicial system must be set up, even going so far as to call for the establishment of the institution of sanctuary—a place of refuge where an accused murderer can run to in order to escape blood vengeance, at least until such time as a court can try him. Blood vengeance was (and sadly, still is) the practice in much of the Near East. The Torah attempts to put a stop this lawless and bloody custom.

The laws of slavery—the first set of laws discussed in this parasha—show a similar progression. Though the Torah cannot put a stop to the practice, it does attempt to regulate it to an unprecedented degree. At least in the case of Hebrew slaves, the Torah goes as far as to command that they be freed after six years of servitude. Over and again, the Torah tries to put a human face on a class of often-mistreated and abused individuals who were thought of as no more than property, as objects of no higher status than any piece of equipment that one might acquire or get rid of as necessary.

The study of the laws of Mishpatim is in itself enough to make a person a better human being. We are called upon to show kindness to animals—not only our own, but even those of our enemies! “If you come upon your enemy’s bull or his stray [lost] donkey, you shall surely return it to him. If you see your enemy’s donkey lying under its burden would you refrain from helping him? You shall surely help along with him” (23:4-5).

The chief concern of this Torah portion, reflected in one law after another, is for the weakest members of society: the slave, the poor, the stranger, the widow and the orphan. Often the object of abuse, they are instead to be protected and sheltered. Their needs have to be addressed and considered: “If you ever take your neighbor’s garment as a pledge, you shall return it to him before the sun goes down. For that is his only covering, it is his garment for his skin. What will he sleep in?” (22:26-27).

The consequences for breaking God’s laws sometimes come from a court of law, sometimes from God. So, for example, in the case of one who oppresses a widow or an orphan. Of such a transgressor, God will assume responsibility for vengeance: “I will kill you with the sword; your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless” (22:24). Direct and parallel punishment.

Yet, another punishment that often is quoted as being from the Torah, a law that shows similar logic, similar retaliatory thinking, is nothing but a starting-off point for a revolutionary and totally new way of thinking: “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a hand for a hand, a foot for a foot, a burn for a burn, a wound for a wound, a bruise for a bruise” (21:24-25). The Torah understands the folly—and cruelty—of this law. Taking a huge evolutionary leap forward, the Torah has a better idea: the offender must pay damages—an eye’s worth for an eye, a tooth’s value for a tooth. After all, does society really need two toothless men, two blind or armless men—and their families!—to take care of?

Overarching all these laws (there are 53 commandments in Parashat Mishpatim!) is something quite extraordinary. They are all civil laws, governing the behavior of human beings toward one another and toward their environment. Sanctity, the Torah teaches, is not restricted to ritual and worship. The laws of holiness extend far beyond the walls of any temple, extending to the field, the street and even to our place of business. Yet, because these laws emanate from God, it is by following them (or at the very least, studying them) that we make our lives holy.

One can almost hear Hillel, the ancient and famous rabbi of the first century, teaching: “That is the whole Torah. The rest is commentary; now go and study it.”

Indeed and Amen!

©2011 by Boaz D. Heilman