The Path of Righteousness
D’var Torah for Shabbat Shoftim
There’s a story that’s told, a parable attributed to many sources: from the Persian poet Rumi; to an unknown 12thcentury bishop buried in Westminster Abbey; as well as to the famous and influential 19thcentury rabbi, Rabbi Israel Salanter.
The story goes somewhat like this: When I was young, I wanted to change the world. When I matured a bit and realized that perhaps I was overreaching, I aimed to change my people. Later still, I looked to changing my family. But now that I’m old and my children are all grown up, I am working on just changing me.
I thought of this story as I reviewed this week’s Torah portion, Shoftim, “Judges” (Deuteronomy 16:18—21:9).
Shoftim is found approximately halfway through the fifth and final book of the Torah, and at this point we might be excused for thinking we’ve arrived at the gateway to some glorious breakthrough; that the hidden purpose of the Torah is about to be revealed, along with the great secrets of God and the universe, and the True Meaning of Existence.
And in a manner of speaking, we would be right. At this point we arebeing handed the key to the entire teaching of the Torah, its whole point and purpose. We’re about to be told about the Path Of The Righteous, a path each of us, individually, is invited to take.
Nevertheless, it turns out that the really great enigmas, those of God and Creation, were dispensed with much earlier, in the first book of the Torah, in Genesis. What we learn now, almost a whole year later, is much simpler, much more down-to-earth, a lesson so obvious that we wonder how we didn’t see it coming.
So what is the wisdom that lies at this point in the Torah? What is the truth that is revealed here? What is the Path Of The Righteous?
It’s the deepest of all truths, but it’s summed up in five simple words: “Justice, justice shall you pursue—Tzedek tzedek tirdof—so that you might inherit the earth which Adonai your God is giving you” (Deut. 16:20).
Of all the quotable passages in the Torah, this one receives special attention in rabbinic literature, and here is why.
First of all, of course, there’s the repetition of the word “justice.” The Torah doesn’t often repeat itself; ink and parchment are expensive. Crisp, concise statements make their point much more clearly than intricate and complex sentences. So why the repetition? For emphasis. There’s no mistaking the point of this verse: Justice. Thisis what should be the object of your pursuit. This is the goal, the endpoint of the path we are encouraged to take.
In our youth, we seek the most universal goals: beauty, fame and fortune. At every turn, we see what our society calls beautiful, and we respond by emulating the image, and by copying the behavior we see. Each of us tries to outdo the other, to leave the largest footprint, to have the largest following on Instagram and Twitter, and thus shape the world around us.
But as we get older, we realize that these goals fall short. They require too much effort to keep up, and ultimately, they lead to disappointment, emptiness.
Wiser then, we turn to the path of knowledge, that we might understand the working of the world around us. We pursue wisdom, so that we might grasp the reason and purpose of our existence. We measure success by the number of honors, diplomas and degrees that we earn along the way.
But as evening sets in, we realize that even with all our wisdom we can’t begin to explain the madness around us. Life, we see, has a way of unravelling. The constellations we observe above our heads are no more than an optical illusion. We realize that there is no rhyme or reason, that chaos and vacuum are as much part of The Larger Plan as order and purpose. That, in the words of an anonymous and great philosopher, “Life happens.”
At the end of the day, we understand that the sum of all wisdom is the fact that we simply do not know Why. We can figure out the mechanics of howthe universe came into being; we can calculate whenthat happened, give or take a few million years. But we can only guess at the why, and your guess is as good as mine.
And that brings us to the last part of our parable, to the lesson that has yet to be learned. We can’t change the world; we barely scrape the surface when it comes to changing our society or community. In the end, we can only hope to change ourselves.
But how to do that? What self-help books, what diets and drugs, what ruminations that we haven’t yet examined and tried?
The answer is simple, and it appears in Shoftim: “Justice, justice shall you pursue.” That, says the Torah, is the key to living a life with meaning, structure and purpose. The pursuit of justice is the Path of the Righteous, the secure path that leads to peace and contentment.
Every step, every act in our life is measured by this value. Was it just? Was it fair? Was I perhaps blinded by an offer that shouldn’t have been made? By the implicit threat of the rich and powerful OR by the unimaginable misery of the poor? Was I moved by greed? By my need for vengeance or feelings of jealousy?
Or was my act motivated by the love of righteousness, equality and justice?
At the end of the day, that’s what counts. That’s what determines the kind of person I am and the person that I can still hope to be.
Now, that isn’t to say that beauty, fame and fortune are of no importance. They bring richness, color and pleasure into our lives. As for knowledge and wisdom, without these we would almost certainly still be sitting in some cave, in darkness and ignorance. These are some of the marvelous benefits that come along with the gift of our humanity. However, with all else stripped away, when we look for the distillation of the meaning of our existence, for the pursuit that will establish us most securely on our path, that will enable us to leave the greatest impact, we finally understand that it is the pursuit of justice.
And it only took the Torah four and a half books to teach us that.
It’s mid-August. Summer is winding down, and in just a few short weeks we will usher in a New Year. Uncertainties about life, society and the environment cause us anxiety and even fear. How timely, then, is the lesson of this week’s portion. We can’t change the world. We can’t control what happens around us. But we can determine the kind of person we are going to be. Because, from this point on, whatever happens, our response must be a just and fair. That is how we bring about change. When we begin with ourselves and judge each of our actions by the highest goal of all—justice.
With every step, at every juncture and crossing of the road, we are faced with choices. The decisions we make can change our lives, as well as the lives of others, hopefully for the better.
So then, let it begin with me, today. Let each step I make be in pursuit of justice, fairness and equality. Let this be the beginning of the change in my life. I don’t know who will follow me—but that must not be what I focus on. My focus is on me and my behavior. Redemption begins with me.
May the steps each of us takes into this new beginning and into the New Year, be firm and strong. And through our actions, may we show others too, the Path of the Righteous, in the pursuit of justice.
© 2018 by Boaz D. Heilman
