February 21st: Mishpatim
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Sometimes we look at all the laws of Judaism and find them overwhelming and off-putting. Why does religion have to be so complicated? Why cannot we just be good people and think about God from time to time? Why must there be 613 commandments? Are not ten enough?
Yes, the Torah does give us 613 commandments—603 more than the Ten Commandments we read last week. Just in this week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim (Exodus 21-24), we have fifty-three of the additional laws, and it can all be a bit daunting.
And yet, we are not stupid people—incapable of dealing with complexity. Intelligent and sophisticated, we deal with a myriad of details on a regular basis and on all sorts of subjects. We deal with all the details because we know that they can make a big difference. I am reminded of an episode of the old sit-com Northern Exposure in which the main character makes dinner for some friends. Not wanting to trouble himself with clarifying the butter for a recipe or getting fresh mushrooms—and figuring that his Alaskan frontier guests will not know the difference, he melts the butter and uses canned mushrooms. Hah! “This is good,” one guest comments after tasting the dish, “But it would be better if the butter had been clarified.” “Oh,” asks another, “Are these canned mushrooms?”
We who are sophisticated enough to understand things like music, dance, cuisine, and fashion are certainly aware of the importance of details—how regular rice does not work in sushi, or how an off-tempo musician can really destroy a performance, or how certain clothing combinations “work” and others do not. My point is that we who deal with an amazing degree of complexity and subtlety must surely realize that leading a moral life requires a detailed consideration of exactly what that contains.
So, for instance, while most of us assent to the principle of the Fifth Commandment: “Honor your father and your mother,” there could be some ameliorating factors. What about those whose parents who do not deserve honoring—who abuse or abandon their children? Or, what about the different between “honoring” and agreeing or obeying? Must one agree with or obey one’s parents in every instance? Do children have the right to their own opinions and a degree of their own autonomy? And, if this is true for children, how much the more so is it true for grown-ups –who may even know more about some subjects than their parents? My point is that we can take a simple principle and quickly see that it is not so simple. Further consideration of the context and implications are important if we are to take the mitzvah seriously.
Perhaps the problem with sections like Mishpatim (Exodus 21-24) is that, while the Ten Commandments have a simplicity and elegance, the further list of commandments seems long and random. They are not memorize-able and easily understandable like the famous Ten. Going from the major principles declared from the heights of Mount Sinai to all the Israelite people, Mishpatim’s fifty-three mitzvot send our minds in all sorts of directions and on all sorts of subjects: marital rights and practices, animal husbandry, construction and farm practices, employment practices, and even some religious rituals.
It might be better to think of Mishpatim as a reference book that contains advice to be consulted if and when it is relevant. If, for example, I am not digging a pit, then I do not have to worry about memorizing the mitzvah in Exodus 21.33: “When a man opens a pit, or digs a pit and does not cover it, and an ox or donkey falls into it, the one responsible for the pit must make restitution; he shall pay the price to the owner, but shall keep the dead animal.” I just need to have a general knowledge that this subject is covered—and I can consult it later if pit-digging is something I plan to do. Or, similarly, if I am not in the habit of seeing wandering livestock, I do not need to worry about the mitzvah in Exodus 23.4: “When you encounter your enemy’s ox or donkey wandering, you must take it back to him.” I just need to know where the rules are should I find myself in that position.
If and when we find ourselves in these situations, the fact is that the standards and laws make a lot of sense. If my wandering ox falls into someone else’s open pit, it seems only fair that the pit owner owes me something. And it seems only fair that, once he/she has paid for my now dead ox, he/she should get to keep the carcass. The same logic applies if someone lets his/her livestock loose to graze on my land. As Exodus 21.4 holds, “he must make restitution for the impairment of that field or vineyard.” In such situations, just saying that we will be “nice” or “fair” may not be enough. We need to address the details and make sure that the social fabric is maintained with real fairness and neighborliness.
Though the ancient discussions—in Talmud and other legal works—seem to continue infinitely, the fact is that there is always more to consider. There are always new situations that may or may not parallel the ancient scenarios and principles. Are swimming pools and construction sites, for instance, analogous to the ancient open pit, and are there safeguards that responsible pool owners or construction companies should put in place to protect against a wandering ox or donkey or child?! Or, if my brakes fail, and my car damages someone else’s property, is this not similar to the wandering flock that grazes in someone else’s vineyard?
The myriads of laws that follow the famous Ten may seem obscure or overly detailed, but the fact is that true fairness and true responsibility have many facets. In a religion in which God wants us to be nice to each other, we need to think about exactly what that means.
A final quasi-relevant story. We recently marked the thirty-ninth anniversary of the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster. There is much to be said about the tragedy. Among other things, one of the deceased astronauts was Jewish, Judith Resnik. She was the fourth woman, the second American woman, and the first Jewish woman to fly in space—logging 145 hours in orbit on previous flights. The space shuttle was perhaps the most complex and highly sophisticated machine in the history of the world, and yet its undoing was the result of a “minor” detail: the O-rings that sealed the fuel tanks were designed for warmer temperatures. That morning, it was chilly in Florida, and the rubbery O-rings contracted just a little bit. Those few degrees ruined everything. Sometimes, sweating the details makes all the difference in the world.