Parshat Mishpatim - The Sum of It's Parts

Last week, in Parshat Yitro, we read the riveting account of Matan Torah – the highlight of spirituality in the history of the Jewish people. We heard lightening, saw thunder and experienced many amazing miracles. We received the Torah directly from HaShem and every single Jew heard Hashem speak - something that is completely beyond our understanding. It is truly an amazing story.

Immediately after this climax, we move into Mishpatim, a detailed list of the intricate laws of Judaism. This parsha is filled with the various topics such as an ox goring a cow, and an open pit in the public thoroughfare. This begs the question: why do we make such a drastic shift? It almost seems like a let-down, that after such a spiritual high, we go into the mundane aspects of the religion. What happened to all the thrill? The excitement? What is the Torah trying to tell us by juxtaposing these laws to the events at Har Sinai?

Perhaps, through answering this question we can understand what a relationship with HaShem is truly made of.

The placement of Parshat Mishpatim right after to Parshat Yitro is showing us that a relationship with HaShem is built through the minutiae; our connection to Him is actually characterized by these seemingly mundane laws. We learn from this Parsha that through keeping the laws in all of their details and intricacies, we are building a relationship with Him. As with in any relationship, it is not the exciting, fantastic moments that build the connection, but rather it is the small things that really make a difference: a hello, a thank-you note, a passing favor. These things show that one really cares about the other, down to the last detail. And it is all the details combined together that make a strong bond.

A perfect mashal for this idea is a tower: a tower seen from very far, looks as if it is made of one piece, yet when we come closer, we can see it's built up of many small parts; so too our relationship with HaShem is built up from these pieces of daily life. Through this weeks parsha, HaShem is trying to show us that the way to reach Him, and to re-connect with him the same way we experienced at Har Sinai, is through the keeping of these laws, of adding more and more pieces to our personal tower to heaven.

According to this, we can truly understand why it is important to keep mitzvot down to their fine points. Sometimes one may wonder about the importance or relevance of the detailed halachot that we keep each day. Why do these things matter? But we see from here that our relationship with HaShem is built through the details. These halachot show that we are not just here to live a thrilling existence, but we are committed to a true bond with Hashem.  May we all have the wisdom and the strength to live up to this and show Hashem that we want a relationship with Him, and may we merit to see Him reciprocate that connection.

Shabbat Shalom

--
Naftali Kassorla

Parshat Yitro

Parshat Yitro

 

In this week's parsha, Klal Yisrael is officially established as a fearsome force among the nations. After decimating Egypt and defeating Amalek, they begin their long 40 year journey in the Desert. The Torah tells us of Yitro, the father in law of Moshe: "And Yitro, priest of Midian, Moshe's father-in-law, heard about all that HaShem had done for Moshe and for His people Yisrael, when HaShem brought Yisrael out of Egypt…Yitro, the father-in-law of Moses, came to Moses with his sons and wife, to the Wilderness where he was encamped, by the Mountain of G-d." Strangely, the Torah needs to tell us that the Jews were encamped in the wilderness; don't we know this already? Rashi, of course, notes this and brings the Mechilta which explains: "We already know of our own account that they were in the desert! Rather in the praise of Yitro does Scripture speak: for he was living amidst worldwide honor and yet his heart inspired him to go out into the desert, a desolate place, for the purpose of hearing words of Torah."

  Yitro, as Rashi explains, was overcome with so much emotion from all the miracles that HaShem preformed for Klal Yisrael and although he was one of the most respected members of the world, he left his life of luxury to go to a place of desolation, a "Makom tohu." The word "tohu" in Bereishit is used to explain what the world was like before creation: "unformed and desolate." From here we see the extent to which the word tohu can connote literally nothing, and still Yitro was drawn to the desert to hear words of Torah. This was the power of his emotion, which allowed him to look past the impediments of the desert. It drove him out of a life of security and comfort to join the Jewish people in the wilderness, a place fraught with danger and discomfort. It caused him to change his whole life from top to bottom and become a Jew.

However, later on in the parsha we are struck with a tremendous difficulty. When Yitro reaches the encampment of Klal Yisrael, Moshe comes to greet him. Moshe begins to tell him of all the miracles that HaShem preformed for Klal Yisrael and Rashi again brings the Mechilta to explain why Moshe felt it important to tell all of this to Yitro: "In order to draw his heart to bring him closer to the Torah."

  Why must Moshe draw him closer to Torah? We just explained that Yitro gave up everything he had and came to the Midbar to hear words of Torah. What is Moshe trying to accomplish here? 

Perhaps the answer lies in the words of Rashi himself. Rashi describes this emotion which overcame Yitro as "U'ndavo Libo -- Inspiration of the heart". As we saw earlier, this inspiration was so powerful that it caused Yitro change his entire life. However, like all emotions it can dissipate over time, and once that emotion was lost, Yitro may desire to return to his old way of life.

Moshe understood this, and he wanted to draw Yitro's heart to the Torah, to teach him the importance of capturing his feelings of inspiration and concretizing them. Yitro was coming from a lifestyle of Avodah Zarah. According to the Midrash he had tried out every other religion; he moved from one thing to the next, never finding lasting satisfaction. He may have been accustomed to the idea of "instant inspiration and gratification," but these feelings are not real. Judaism is not a "feel-good" religion and it does not claim to offer ecstasy and constant excitement. Rather, it is a perfect blend of dedication of mind and heart. A commitment to Torah must be constant, even when we lose our original inspiration. Perhaps this is the explanation of the Mechilta, "In order to draw his heart to bring him closer to the Torah." Not just the heart, but the person himself, so at that time when the feelings of the heart leave, the true person, with his commitment to Torah, will remain. By bringing Yitro closer, Moshe was ensuring that he would continue his upward progress and dedication to HaShem's Torah.

According to this explanation, we can now understand another difficultly: After Moshe retells of all the miracles in Egypt, the Medrash says that Yitro responded: "I was aware of Him in the past but, now, all the more so." The question is: why now? Didn't Yitro come out to the wilderness with the recognition of HaShem already in mind?

We can answer this in light of what we have said. While it is true that Yitro already came to the desert with belief in HaShem, his belief was rooted in a fleeting emotion. Although this inspired him to change his life, nevertheless it was still an emotion. Now that Yitro has firmly established his belief, he can say that he is "more aware of HaShem."

 We see from Yitro the importance of taking our moments of inspiration and making them into a concrete reality in our lives. Belief may start out as a feeling, but unless one builds upon it to come to a more concrete and consistent plateau, it will not carry him through life. Only once he does this essential work can he proclaim a deep and real belief in HaShem and his Torah.

Shabbat Shalom

 

--
Naftali Kassorla

Parshat Beshalach

Parshat Beshalach

 

In this weeks parsha Pharaoh finally gives in to the demands of Moshe, thus ushering in the long awaited redemption of Klal Yisrael from Egypt. However, Pharaoh's heart hardens and he decides to chase after Klal Yisrael to bring them back to Egypt.

The passuk says: "Pharaoh drew near, and the children of Israel lifted up their eyes, and behold! Egypt was advancing after them." The passuk curiously uses the word "Nosea" (meaning "to chase") in the singular form, in reference to the entire nation of Egypt, which one would expect to be in the plural. 

In noting this oddity, Rashi brings the Medrash Tanchuma, which explains that Egypt chased after Klal Yisrael "B'lev Echad K'ish Echad-One Heart as One Man" to denote their unity.

Why does the Medrash use this phrase? We recognize that this is a complete reversal of the Medrash in Parshat Yitro, which explains the unity Klal Yisrael had at the receiving of the Torah at Har Sinai: "And when they departed from Rephidim, and came to the wilderness of Sinai…and there Israel encamped before the mount". Here again, the Torah uses "Vayachanu"- to encamp, in the singular as opposed to the plural, even though it is describing the entire nation. Rashi notes this here as well, and brings the Medrash which explains that their unity was like "One Man with One Heart." What is the Medrash trying to tell us with this reversal?

Perhaps from this we can learn a tremendous lesson about the concept of unity and how one should conduct himself in a disagreement.

The heart is a euphemism for the thoughts and feelings of a person, as it says "Rabot Machshavot Blev Ish - Many thoughts are in the heart of man." In saying that the Egyptians were like "one heart as one man," placing heart before man, the Medrash is telling us that Egypt's view of unity was that it could only exist when there was, foremost, an agreement of thoughts and opinions. The prerequisite to banding together as one man was having a common agenda. The Egyptians grouped together only to bring back the Jews to slavery, to achieve a unified goal. To an Egyptian, the idea of unity for the sake of unity was a foreign concept.

However by the Jews, it is the reverse. The word man is first and heart is second. The man, the person, comes before his heart, his thoughts and opinions. Our unity stresses the recognition of the inherent worth of man as a precondition to unity. The realization that one's counterpart is made in the image of HaShem and that he is a fellow Jew, demands respect and breeds love. This type of unity leads to progress and fulfillment, and it is only after this recognition that people can come to meaningfully disagree. I once read in a book about an exchange between an Orthodox rabbi and a prominent Reform rabbi. The Reform rabbi made the claim that the Orthodox hate Reform Jews. When asked why he thought so, he replied, "Because they reject our version of Judaism." Clearly, he has an Egyptian mentality; to him, unity is an agreement of opinions, not of genuine love and care for another. He believes that if we, the Orthodox, were to throw away our direct tradition from Sinai, it would constitute a true a sign of brotherhood.  But, as long as we have different world views, we cannot possibly love one another and feel unified.

The lesson the Medrash is teaching us is that unity is not a relinquishing of strongly held principles. Rather, it stems from a deep love and respect for the other, while at the same time allowing for differences of opinion. Disagreement is possible while still retaining the unbreakable bond of unity. May we and the rest of Klal Yisrael grow stronger in our unity together and merit the arrival of Moshiach speedily in our days, amen.

Shabbat Shalom.

 

-Naftali Kassorla