February 12th: Mishpatim
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Mishpatim (Exodus 21-24) consists mostly of laws—lots and lots of them (53!). Though we focus on the drama and priority of the Ten Commandments, living a godly life involves lots of details. It is not just enough to “be a good person.” One must figure out the right way to behave when one comes across an enemy’s ox or donkey wandering aimlessly (24.4: return it to your enemy). One must know how to be respectful of a poor neighbor who borrows money (22.21: do not charge interest, and, if he gives you his cloak as collateral, return it to him at night so he can sleep in warmth). One must make sure that one’s property does not present a danger to others (22.4: keep your livestock on your property so it will not graze on another’s). Righteousness is not merely an attitude: it is a varied and continuing set of behaviors.
Though the high drama of God’s thundering proclamation of the Ten Commandments (in Exodus 19 and 20) rivets our attention, the structure of the Torah suggests that the additional commandments in the following three chapters are also part of the Sinai Covenant. After the initial ten, God puts off a covenantal celebration until after revealing all the commandments of Exodus 21, 22, and 23. Only then does God invite Moses and the leadership up to the mountain for a celebratory banquet. Before they ascend the mountain, Moses makes sure that all the people affirm the covenant. “Moses repeated to the people all the commands of the Lord and all the rules; and all the people answered in one voice, saying, ‘All the things that the Lord has commanded we will do!’ Then Moses wrote down all the commands of the Lord.” (Exodus 24.3-4)
Moses then sets up an altar at the foot of the mountain, with twelve pillars representing the twelve tribes of Israel, and designates some young men to offer burnt offerings and sacrifice bulls to the Lord. “Moses took one part of the blood and put it in basins, and the other part of the blood he dashed against the altar. Then he took the record of the covenant and read it aloud to the people. They said, ‘All that the Lord has spoken, na’aseh v’nish’ma, we will do and we will listen!’ Moses took the blood of the covenant and dashed it on the people and said, ‘This is the blood of the covenant that the Lord now makes with you concerning all these commands.’” (Exodus 24.6-8)
This is when Moses and Aaron and the leadership climb up the mountain to celebrate with God the just-concluded covenant. “Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy elders of Israel ascended; and they saw the God of Israel: under God’s feet was the likeness of a pavement of sapphire, like the very sky for purity. Yet God did not raise a hand against the leaders of the Israelites; they beheld God, and they ate and drank.” (Exodus 24.9-11)
This notion of celebrating a covenant with a sacred meal has roots much older than the Exodus story. In the Gilgamesh Epic, an ancient Babylonian cultural and religious text, one of the stories explains the reasoning. In this story, the gods get very tired of all the noise that humans are making, and they resolve to solve the problem by killing all the humans in a great flood. One of the gods is not so sure about this plan and secretly tells one human, Ut’napish’tim, about what is coming and that he should build a big boat and load it with animals to escape the coming disaster. Ut’napish’tim does so, and, when the rains flood the world, he and his animals survive. With all humanity dead, the gods come to a terrible realization: without the humans to serve them (with the fatty smoke that comes off of roasting meat), there is nothing for the gods to eat. They are all starving and miserable until, when the waters recede, Ut’napish’tim comes out of his boat and sacrifices some of his animals. Then, as the Gilgamesh Epic describes it, the gods hover around the roasting meat like flies.
This might sound a little familiar—though the Bible’s version of the story has some differences. There is no moral component in the Babylonian version: the gods are unhappy with human noise. In Genesis, however, God’s objection to humans is their immorality: “The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness…for all flesh had corrupted its ways on earth.” (Genesis 6.11-12) There is also the difference in the sacrifice Noah and Ut-napish-tim offer when they emerge from the boat. Whereas the Babylonian gods get sustenance from the fatty smoke, our God simply enjoys the re’ach nicho’ach, the savory aroma of Noah’s post-flood sacrifice (Genesis 8.20-21).
Throughout the Torah’s many instructions about sacrifices, this savory aroma is often mentioned as what God likes. While the Bible is clear that God does not need the meat or blood—what God wants is our respect and obedience, God does like the great smell of meat being roasted. This is why, as the ancients understood it, God would come around for the sacrificial meals, enjoying the re’ach nicho’ach and being present for the people’s praise, thanks, and petitions. The sacrificial meal invoked God’s presence.
After the Temple was destroyed, we had to transition to a different kind of worship service, one relying on prayers rather than sacrificial meals. What remained the same, however, was our belief that God wants our piety and obedience. All those mitzvot are ways for us to live in holy relationship with the Divine.