Mishpatim 5774

The many rules in Parshat Mishpatim provide the foundation for civil society.  Most can be placed into general categories:  slavery, assault, robbery, vicious animals, borrowed property, and credit.  As we read the list, we can discern at least one important theme:  the obligations incumbent upon individuals.

If your ox gores someone, you are responsible.  (21:28)  If you dig a pit and don’t cover it, you have  obligations to anyone – human or animal – who falls in.  (21:33)  You can’t let your livestock graze on someone else’s land.  (22:4)  If you lend someone money and take collateral, don’t do so in a way that’s punitive or degrading.  (22:24)

In a free society, it is tempting to believe that our personal freedom is infinite.  But civilization requires it to be curtailed in some cases.  The Torah espouses a civil contract, and denies that we are purely free agents.  Our actions – and the ways we treat others – matter.

Most of us happily conform to laws that protect personal safety.  But there is a troubling trend in our culture, a movement of disrespect of other’s person, dignity, and time.

How regularly do we expect that another person be available to us precisely when we want them?  We get angry or frustrated when their schedule doesn’t conform to ours.  How regularly do we demand that a product or service conform to our specific requirements?  We want what we want when we want it, and act out when we don’t receive it.

I discern an extraordinary sense of entitlement in today’s culture.  If the Kardashians and “Real” “Housewives” of Beverly Hills can be demanding and get away with it, why can’t we? 

I suspect that the ubiquity of the internet plays a big role in this.  All the information in the world is available in our own pockets, 60/1440 -- that is, each minute of the day.  Waiting feels primitive.  Since multi-national corporations have taken over almost every shop, we are far more likely to interact with “workers” than “owners” – and so we, as customers, expect to be always right.  We take instant gratification for granted and grow frustrated with anything less.  Are we becoming a society of four year olds?

No matter what the wider society may expect, we are reminded this week that we are to respect each other’s person, as well as their dignity and their time.  We may not have livestock, but we must nonetheless respect the integrity of another’s space.

Tu B'shvat 5774

In Jerusalem, I lived on a street lined with coral trees.  All winter long they stood, their barren branches like spindly fingers grasping the sky.

Then, on Tu B’shvat, the New Year of the Trees, they burst into glorious blossom.  Suddenly my street was purple and orange and red, fireworks in the air and polka dots on the pavement.  Spring had arrived, and it was marvelous.

How does it happen that precisely on Tu B’shvat, the sap courses through the trunk, the branches shake off winter, and the flowers unfurl?  How is it that the calendar is encoded into a tree’s DNA?

Tu B’shvat reminds us that the Jewish calendar is inextricably linked to the Jewish land.  And it reminds us that our lives are woven into the earth that sustains us – the trees that nourish us and the seasons as they turn.

This is the moment to stop and appreciate the goodness of the natural world, to savor its sights, sounds, flavors and scents.  Join us for a Tu B’shvat Seder on Friday evening (reservations required) or go for a walk through your neighborhood.  Remember that we are not apart from the natural world, but very much part of it.  Here’s to the trees!

Beshallach 5774

Manna is a gift from God – a nourishing, tasty food that falls from the sky to satisfy the people’s hunger.  God’s only demand is that we gather a double portion on Friday, enough to eat for two days, and refrain from gathering on Shabbat.  “Mark that God has given you Shabbat; therefore God gives you two days’ food on the sixth day.  Let everyone remain where he is:  let no one leave his place on the seventh day.”  So the people remained inactive on the seventh day.”  (Exodus 16:29-30).

Many traditions tell us to work harder: the stories of the Three Little Pigs and the Ant and the Grass Hoper, among many others, promote industriousness.  While the Jewish tradition similarly encourages work (“six days a week you shall labor…”), it also requires that we consider what our effort, and indeed, our lives, are for.  If we merely toil, then what good does it do us?  We have forsaken the bounty and beauty of God’s creation, spurned human relationship, rejected joy for treasure.  Weeks roll on, one into the next, and we have nothing to show for them but a bank account that, miraculously, never grows at all.  We wake to the thought “what do I have to do today?” rather than gratitude and wonder.

In our day, many work twice as hard to earn a half as much.  No one feels secure in their job.  How tempting, then, to devote ourselves entirely to our labor – to store up as much manna as we can, while we can.

But let’s remember to live, too.   Life is better when we savor our time, connect with other people, enjoy our surroundings, and cease from our worries and our labors.  Let us pledge to do something – even a little thing – to make this Shabbat meaningful, an antidote to the stresses we feel.  After all, it’s not just a suggestion.  It’s a commandment.