Archive for the ‘18. Mishpatim’ Category

The first parsha after receiving the Torah addresses a Jew who steals, and is sold into temporary slavery. The Beis Halevi is bothered by this.

The Parsha opens with ואלה המשפטים – And these are the laws… Rashi points out how ו – “and” – is a point that continues something that came first, in this case that these laws are a continuation of the Torah just given at Sinai.

But why then, is this the very first instruction the Torah teaches us on becoming fully fledged Jews; why aren’t we first charged with being good, kind and responsible for society, such as the parsha after, which addresses distributing money to the poor?

The Beis Halevi explains that the Torah has a prerequisite for kindness and charity. The money has to be kosher. When people want to demonstrate their kindness, they have to ensure that the ingredients are properly sourced.

The Jew who steals becomes a slave. Although he must be treated exceptionally well, and is not the permanent property of his owner, he is not a fully fledged Jew. He is devoid of responsibility to Hashem, and is responsible to his master. He is allowed to marry a non-Jew in this state, and create a family of slaves for his master. This is what the Torah proscribes as the solution to theft. The Torah terms these things as less bad than one who steals.

The Torah impresses upon us the severity of theft, that it is a prerequisite to being capable of aiding society. The Torah demands high standards of people involved in society, as a prerequisite for all laws.

Why does Parshas Mishpatim begin with the laws of an עֶבֶד עִבְרִי – a Hebrew servant? What is the significance of this topic that marks it out as the first of the laws after receiving the Torah?

The Gemara in Bava Metzia 10a introduces a key concept to Jewish law; that a hired worker can stop in the middle of the job for whatever reason he chooses, so long as he compensates the lost labour, ensures a replacement etc. He cannot be made to work. This is in contrast to an עֶבֶד  who is a slave, and is bound to his work.

The psukim say: כִּי תִקְנֶה עֶבֶד עִבְרִי שֵׁשׁ שָׁנִים יַעֲבֹד וּבַשְּׁבִעִת יֵצֵא לַחָפְשִׁי חִנָּם - Should you buy a Hebrew servant, he shall work [for] six years, and in the seventh [year], he shall go out to freedom without charge. (21:2)

וְאִם אָמֹר יֹאמַר הָעֶבֶד אָהַבְתִּי אֶת אֲדֹנִי אֶת אִשְׁתִּי וְאֶת בָּנָי לֹא אֵצֵא חָפְשִׁי – But if the slave says, “I love my master, my wife, and my children. I will not go free,” (2:5)

וְהִגִּישׁוֹ אֲדֹנָיו אֶל הָאֱ־לֹהִים וְהִגִּישׁוֹ אֶל הַדֶּלֶת אוֹ אֶל הַמְּזוּזָה וְרָצַע אֲדֹנָיו אֶת אָזְנוֹ בַּמַּרְצֵעַ וַעֲבָדוֹ לְעֹלָם – his master shall bring him to the judges, and he shall bring him to the door or to the doorpost, and his master shall pierce his ear with an awl, and he shall serve him forever. (2:6)

There is a basic rule in the Gemara that the term “עֶבֶד” alone demarks a Canaanite, a slave, which is a permanent service, whereas an עֶבֶד עִבְרִי is a temporary status, which is why it must be specified.  My rebbi pointed out to me that when he begins his service (21:2), he is an עֶבֶד עִבְרִי whereas after the allotted time has passed at which he is meant to go free, should he remain to say, he has become an עֶבֶד – a slave, with no עִבְרִי – the Jew has become a Canaanite slave. Although this is not halachically accurate, this is certainly hashkafically accurate.

But what has he done that is so reprehensible, that he is pierced, a form of branding of property? (more…)

The Rambam states in that there are three distinct types of unintentional killers:

1.) One who kills b’shgagah. This is defined as the state of mind possessed by one whose act is completely unforeseen. This category is referred to states in Sh’mos 21:12: v’asher lo tzadahwho did not lie in ambush. The punishment that applies to such a person is galus, whereby he is exiled to one of the arei miklot in order to receive a kaparah for his actions and to find refuge from the goel hadam who would not be penalized for exacting vengeance.

2.) One who kills b’shgagah korov l’oness, which describes the mental state of one who could not only not foresee the death as an outcome of his actions, but the killing was a wonderment which would not have occurred in the same circumstances in the majority of cases. This person is exempt from galus and if the goel hadam were to kill him, the avenger would be sentenced to death by the beis din.

3.) One who kills b’shgagah karovah l’zadon. This pertains to a person who acted with an attitude of wanton recklessness. His sin is considered too great for galus, he is prevented from receiving a kaparah and is not afforded any protection from the goel hadam, who is permitted to exact retribution without fear of capital punishment.

There exists a fundamental condition attached to the law of the pure shogeg (category 1), as taught by the Mishnah in Makkos 6b. The general rule is that if this type of unintentional killer was travelling in a downward direction at the time when the cause of death was set in motion, he is liable to be sent to galus since such an action is deemed to have been committed b’shogeg. However, if the offender was not descending at this time, he is exempt from galus. The Mishnah exemplifies this principle with several scenarios, one of which is involves a man who was climbing down a ladder when a rung broke causing him to fall on top of the victim below, who perished as a result. This is considered to be a case of shogeg and the defendant is sentenced to galus. However, if the killer was ascending when he slipped and fell he is exempt. The Gemara explains that the reason for this distinction is the verse in Bamidbar 35, where the Torah states that an inadvertent killer who is liable for galus is one who, ‘V’yapeil alav v’yamus’And he fell on him and he died. Chazal expound this phrase to teach that the killer must be moving in a downward direction in a derech nefillah (the way of falling) in order to be liable for galus.

The Rambam provides a rationale for the Torah’s distinction between descent and ascent. He submits that the reason why the one who was ascending the ladder is exempt is because it is as if he were coerced, thus falling under category 2. Indeed, in most cases, that fatal outcome would not have occurred. Therefore, the killer’s culpability is beneath the threshold required for the punishment of galus.

In contrast, if the killer was descending the ladder at the crucial moment, the Rambam reasons that in such a case there is a greater risk of injuring others because it is a rule of nature that weight is pulled in a downward direction with rapidity. (It is interesting to note that the Rambam, writing approximately 200 years before Newton, was not that far away from the theory of gravity!) Therefore, if someone did not take proper care at the time of his descent, he will be liable to galus.

What is the correct perspective in terms of defining the culpability of one who kills b’shogeg? We have learnt that such behaviour is sufficient to deserve galus; however, galus is more of a refuge and a kaparah zone, rather than a brutal onesh. Moreover, the Rambam describes the shogeg mindset as totally blind to the outcome of his actions. Nonetheless, there appears to be some level of criminal negligence and blameworthiness associated with a shogeg. We are left with the question, what proportion of blame may be attributed to one who kills b’shogeg, requiring a kaparah, and to what extent is the death the result of Divine intervention?

Perhaps the answer can be found in Parashas Mishpatim, 21:12-13, wherein the Torah declares that, ‘makeh ish va’meis mos yumas; v’asher lo tzadah v’ho’elokim inah l’yado v’samti l’cha makom asher yanus shamah.’ – ‘One who strikes a man and he will die, he (the killer) shall be put to death; and if he did not lie in ambush and God placed it in his hand and I shall place for you a place to where he may flee’.

As Rashi interprets, the pasuk is referring to the laws pertaining to intentional and inadvertent killing; the one who murders deliberately receives the death penalty, whereas the individual who did not intend to kill is exiled. Philosophically, a most striking element within the verse is that we are being taught that Hashem arranges for such inadvertent killings to take place. Onkelos translates inah as it’m’sar, to transmit or to hand over, while Rashi writes that it is an expression akin to zaman, to invite or summon (this is an example of a word in lashon hakodesh upon which the English equivalent is based). This demonstrates that, at times, G-d deliberately causes a person’s death via human agency.

To explain this notion, Rashi cites a Medrash that depicts a saying of David HaMelech. The Medrash reports that the monarch stated that the Torah tells us ‘m’rashaim yeitzei resha’- from evil-doers comes out evil. Where does the Torah convey this? From our posuk: ‘v’ho’elokim inah l’yado’, which refers to a situation involving two people, one who killed inadvertantly and one who killed on purpose. However, in both cases there were no witnesses to enable the prosecution of either offender. Consequently, the unintentional killer was not ordered to go to galus and the murderer did not receive the death penalty. The Medrash, quoted by Rashi, continues by teaching that, in such a case, Divine intervention may arrange for these two killers to arrive at the same public house. The one who killed deliberately ends up sitting below a ladder and the inadvertent killer climbs up the ladder and subsequently falls on top of the killer beneath him with fatal consequences. Conveniently, on this occasion there were witnesses, thus enabling the beis din to send the shogeg to galus, which he was liable for anyway, while the intentional killer has already received his just deserts.

The glaring question is, how can Rashi quote the Medrash as teaching that the shogeg was climbing up the ladder (oleh ba’sulam) before he fell onto the person below. Surely it is the clear ruling of the aforementioned Mishnah in Makkos that in such a case, the individual is in fact exempt from galus. This problem is compounded by the actual reading of this Mechilta, as quoted in the Gemara in Makkos 10b. There, the text reads that the shogeg killer was descending the ladder (yored b’sulom) at the time of his fall. In that case, with what licence did Rashi not only alter the text of this Medrash, but give a misrepresentation of the correct halachah? This cannot be a simple mistake for we are dealing with Rashi, who the Meiri dubs greatest of the commentators.

The Sifsei Chachomim and the Mizrachi both opt for a rather ‘lav davka’ approach to resolve this conundrum by concluding that of course Rashi meant that when the killer fell he was moving downwards. Rashi merely refers to the fact that the shogeg went up the ladder so that it was possible for him to descend before falling. This may be true but it remains perplexing as to why Rashi so conspicuously deviates from the text of the Medrash as quoted by the Gemara and thereby risk halachically misleading the reader.

Enter the Maharal in his opus, Gur Aryeh. He contends that the sole message of the Medrash was to convey the extent of Divine intervention into human affairs. Therefore, Rashi deliberately changed the text in order to emphasize that the man’s ascent up the ladder was not the result of his own free choice, but rather, was entirely engineered by the Celestial chess player. The descent down the ladder however, was not the outcome of Divine programming and is thus irrelevant to the Medrash’s agenda. This approach not only absolves Rashi, but provides a scintillating insight into the Yad Hashem which clandestinely arranges earthly goings on in order to bring out justice and retribution.

Furthermore, this yesod assists us in our inquiry as to the correct understanding of the shogeg killer. This person is certainly subject to the Divine master plan, who leads him up the ladder. Nonetheless, the act of killing must contain an element of moral blameworthiness and G-d does not force you to sin under duress. It is within this person’s bechirah to be watchful of his actions, as it is axiomatic that he would not be exiled without deserving it. Thus, his descent must have been the result of his autonomous free will. These insights not only alert us to the penetrating truths of our holy Torah, but reveal extent of Hashem’s awesome jurisdiction over our existence.

א: וְאֵלֶּה הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים אֲשֶׁר תָּשִׂים לִפְנֵיהֶם

1. And these are the ordinances that you shall set before them (21:1)

The Yalkut Shemoni in the beginning of this week’s Parsha quotes Rav Alechsandri who gives a parable for this week’s Parsha. Two men, who hate each other, are leading their donkeys who are carrying large loads, along the way. One donkey stops walking, and crouches down, (for its load was too heavy) while the other (man and donkey) passes him by. The one who passes says, ”It’s written in the Torah (23:5), ‘Perhaps you will see the donkey of someone you hate lying under its burden, will you refrain from helping him?’ Immediately, the man returns and helps his brother unload his donkey. The man who is being helped thinks to himself how a moment ago they hated each other and now he is helping him! It must be that they aren’t really enemies at all! They then make peace with each other and all hatred is lost.

This is the meaning to ‘And these are the judgments’. Hashem knows what is moral and ethical, and what it takes to make this world a better place. We just have to do and learn His mitzvos and the rest will fall into place on its own.

There are a lot of different mitzvos in this week’s Parsha, so choosing one was very difficult, but here goes.

‘When you will lend money to my people, to the poor person who is with you, do not act towards him as a creditor; do not place interest upon him. If you will take your fellow’s garment as security, until the sun sets you shall have returned it to him. For it alone is his covering, it is his garment for his skin; in what will he lie down? So it will be that if he cries out to me, I shall listen, for I am compassionate’. (22:24-26)

Here the Torah teaches us three mitzvos. To lend money to poor people, not to act as a creditor when you know he has nothing to pay you with, and not to lend money with interest. The Kli Yakar points out that we refer to this pauper with three different names. In the beginning we call him in the name of ‘my people’, then we call him ‘the poor person who is with you’, then lastly we say ‘your fellow’s garment’. Why do we change his name and not just refer his to the poor person the entire time? Answers the Kli Yakar that the Torah was telling us three reasons why we are required to lend money to a poor person.

1.  Since he is part of ‘my people’, that is Hashem’s people. Hashem is the King and whoever gives money and food to the King’s men has a guarantee that the King will pay him back. Thus the Pasuk, ‘Malveh Hashem Chonain Dal’, that he who gives to poor people is considered as if he lent to Hashem.

2. The Gemara relates how Turnus Rufus asked R’ Akiva that if Hashem loves us so much why does our nation have poor people? R’ Akiva answered that it’s so that we can give Tzedakah which will save us from the Din of Gehinnom (hell) (See Gemara Bava Basra 10a for the rest of the discussion). If Tzedakah is so powerful that it could even save a person from the Din of Gehinnom then we see that the poor person does a lot more than the giver. The giver gives money (i.e. Olam Hazeh – this world) for only a small part of this poor person’s life, whereas the poor person gives this giver Olam Haba – the world to come – which is an immeasurable reward. Therefore the Torah’s second lashon of this pauper was, ‘to the poor person with you’. Why was this person poor? So that you could give Tzedakah and go to Olam Haba. Thus he is ‘with you’, meaning this poor person is here for your merit.

The Kli Yakar says that with these two reasons, we can now understand the next two mitzvos in the Torah.

Why should one not act like a creditor towards the pauper? We use reason number one, that since a person should be secure that Hashem is going to pay him back for that which he lent, he must then not act like a creditor thus proving he doesn’t believe Hashem is going to end up paying him back.

Why can a person not take interest for his loans? We use reason number two, that the poor person already gave him a pass through the Din of Gehinnom and now this person wants to make even more money from his loan? He is poor to help you become righteous, and you want to take advantage of him by making more money?

3. If we are dealing with a person who lacks faith that Hashem will pay him back and will therefore ask for a collateral, the end result that he will be will be borrowing his ‘fellow’s garment’. Meaning that he will be this poor man’s ‘friend’ in poverty. So what does Hashem say to this person? ‘If you stray off the straight path you can always come back.’ Give the man back his cloak before ‘the sun sets’.

There is a valuable lesson to be learned from the Mitzvos commanded in this week’s Parsha.

The Mishna in Pirkei Avos says: אם אין תורה, אין דרך ארץ; אם אין דרך ארץ, אין תורה – without Derech Eretz there can be no Torah, and without Torah there can be no Derech Eretz.

Rabbeinu Yonah explains that the first time there is a reference to Derech Eretz it means the basic and essential practices that anyone must be in possession of in order to learn Torah. This is the meaning that most people recognize today.

But the second time Derech Eretz is referenced it means a new kind of Derech Eretz. One that is rooted and sourced in Torah alone, about which we say “without Torah there is no Derech Eretz”.

What is the Derech Eretz of Torah? R’ Elya Lopian brings two example from our Parsha:

Within the laws regarding an עבד עברי – a Jewish servant – there is an obligation on the master’s part to address all the servant’s needs in the same regard that he would address his own needs. This is exemplified in a classic case: if there were only one mattress in a household, the servant would take precedence over the master. This is what the גמרא  in Kiddushin means when it says ‘קנה לו עבד עברי קנה אדון לעצמו’ – ‘one who acquires a servant has acquired a master over himself’.

With regard to ourselves, if one were to enter a house and saw two people sleeping, one on a mattress and one the floor, a sensible person would surely understand that the person asleep on the mattress is the master and the person sleeping on the cold, hard floor is the servant.

The Torah teaches us that this is not so, that the reverse is true. The master is obligated to give his sole mattress to the servant. It must be pointed out who exactly an עבד עברי is. This is a degenerate man who has brought himself into the situation he is in, he has robbed and stolen, and being unable to return his ill-gotten gains, has had sell himself to pay back his debts. For this man we are obligated to give up our beds.

R’ Elya Lopian explains that such Derech Eretz is uniquely a Torah sourced Derech Eretz. No other wisdom would generate such ethics for such a man.

The second example is:

ח:  אִם רָעָה בְּעֵינֵי אֲדֹנֶיהָ אֲשֶׁר [לא] לוֹ יְעָדָהּ וְהֶפְדָּהּ לְעַם נָכְרִי לֹא יִמְשֹׁל לְמָכְרָהּ בְּבִגְדוֹ בָהּ

ט: וְאִם לִבְנוֹ יִיעָדֶנָּה כְּמִשְׁפַּט הַבָּנוֹת יַעֲשֶׂה לָּהּ

8. If she is displeasing to her master, who did not designate her [for himself], then he shall enable her to be redeemed; he shall not rule over her to sell her to another person, when he betrays her. 9. And if he designates her for his son, he shall deal with her according to the law of the daughters [of Israel]. (21:8-9)

Rashi explains that it not only instructs the master to marry her, or let his sons marry her, but its actually a commandment – a mitzvah.

אשר לא יעדה: שהיה לו ליעדה ולהכניסה לו לאשה, וכסף קנייתה הוא כסף קידושיה. כאן רמז לך הכתוב שמצוה ביעוד ורמז לך שאינה צריכה קדושין אחרים

Who had not designated her as his wife: that he should have designated her and should have married her. The money used for her purchase serves as the “money” for executing the marriage. Here the Torah implies that it is a mitzvah for him to marry her. It [also] indicates to you that she requires no other marriage ritual.

The Jewish maidservant refers to the daughter of a man who has sunk from depth to new depth, and ended up in the terrible situation of having to sell his daughter as a maidservant as he can not afford to support her or whatever the reason. Specifically regarding this מיוחסת – “girl of such “noble” descent” – does the Torah instruct the man, who may really be of noble descent, to marry this girl or allow his sons to?

To what degree are we instructed to do so?

R’ Elya Lopian explains further: This girls’ world has been destroyed, and she is in turmoil and despair. She has been sold into slavery by her own father, and has no hope of finding the man she is to marry the way other Jewish girls would do. Therefore the Torah worries for her despair, and so obligates the master to rescue her from the danger that she has for the rest of her days, and marry her.

No cultural or academic pursuits would point one in these directions and draw these conclusions. You won’t find similar ethics elsewhere, only Hashem’s Torah could produce them. This is the “Derech Eretz of Torah”.

In the part of the Parsha that discusses the way one should treat others, the monetary law mentioned explains that one must take care of the needy. The pasuk (22:24) says אִם כֶּסֶף תַּלְוֶה אֶת עַמִּי אֶת הֶעָנִי עִמָּךְ…… – When you lend money to My people, to the poor person with you….

There is a slight difficulty in interpreting the word עִמָּךְ - with you – in the context.

The Alshich explains that money is not ours, it is merely deposited with us by G-d. We are given the privilege of having money in order to share it with people who are less fortunate. He explains that the pasuk is telling us that אִם כֶּסֶף תַּלְוֶה אֶת עַמִּי – when we lend money – אֶת הֶעָנִי עִמָּךְ - it belongs to the poor, it just happens to be with you. This is a lesson we can certainly take on board, that nothing is really “ours”, and we should therefore take great responsibility and care of it.

The Vilna Gaon explains that the pasuk is alluding to a standard monetary law: loans are done before witnesses to prevent unscrupulous activity, whereas charity is done in solitude, and no-one needs to know. אִם כֶּסֶף תַּלְוֶה – When you lend money - אֶת עַמִּי – do so before My people – אֶת הֶעָנִי – the poor however – עִמָּךְ - do it alone. This is certainly the correct way to give charity – in secret.

The Kli Yakar explains that when a person gives charity or a charitable loan, all good deeds and benefits resultant from it are credited to the person who financed the good deeds and actions. אִם כֶּסֶף תַּלְוֶה אֶת עַמִּי אֶת הֶעָנִי - If you lend/give money to my people or the needy – עִמָּךְ (all the merits that result) are with you too!

We can certainly incorporate all these ideas when we give charity, that the money is not ours to begin with, that we should do it in secret, and that the merit of charity does not stop once you’ve given it, you still receive all resultant merits performed as a result of your kindness.

ראש חודש ניסן

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