Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1-24:18) and Haftarah (Jeremiah 34:8-22; 33:25-26): The JPS B'nai Mitzvah Torah Commentary
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Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1-24:18) and Haftarah (Jeremiah 34:8-22; 33:25-26): The JPS B'nai Mitzvah Torah Commentary
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Overview
Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1-24:18) and Haftarah (Jeremiah 34:8-22; 33:25-26): The JPS B'nai Mitzvah Torah Commentary shows teens in their own language how Torah addresses the issues in their world. The conversational tone is inviting and dignified, concise and substantial, direct and informative. Each pamphlet includes a general introduction, two model divrei Torah on the weekly Torah portion, and one model davar Torah on the weekly Haftarah portion. Jewish learning--for young people and adults--will never be the same.
The complete set of weekly portions is available in Rabbi Jeffrey K. Salkin's book The JPS B'nai Mitzvah Torah Commentary (JPS, 2017).
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780827614017 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | The Jewish Publication Society |
| Publication date: | 08/01/2018 |
| Series: | JPS Study Bible |
| Pages: | 24 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x (d) |
About the Author
Rabbi Jeffrey K. Salkin serves as the senior rabbi of Temple Solel in Hollywood, Florida. He is the author of Putting God on the Guest List: How to Reclaim the Spiritual Meaning of Your Child’s Bar or Bat Mitzvah, winner of the Benjamin Franklin Award for the best religion book published in the United States, and The Gods Are Broken: The Hidden Legacy of Abraham (JPS, 2013).
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
The Torah
Mishpatim: Exodus 21:1–24:18
All the biblical stories so far in the Torah have been nice, but now it is time to create a Jewish society. This parashah is also known as "the book of the covenant." It is the first body of Torah legislation, and it is mostly concerned with how Israelite society should function. Some of the laws will seem strange, and even dangerous, to modern ears. That is because they are rooted in ancient Middle Eastern laws. Other laws in this portion are still relevant today.
But here is the basic point: the Israelites have been freed not just from Egyptian slavery, but also from worship of the Egyptian gods. Once, they had worked for Pharaoh, and now they work for God.
Summary
• Hebrew slaves must be set free in the seventh year. (21:2–6)
• If someone injures another person, the penalty must be "life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth." (21:23)
• You must act justly and kindly toward strangers in society, as well as toward widows and orphans. (22:20–23)
• You must return the lost property of your enemies, and you must help their animals if they are struggling under a burden. (23:4–5)
• You shall not boil a kid in its mother's milk. (23:19)
The Big Ideas
• Social change is a process. The kind of slavery that Mishpatim describes is very different from the brutal slavery that the Israelites endured, and that other peoples endured, and, in many places, still endure. It is more like being an indentured servant — a temporary arrangement in which someone works off his or her debt. The Torah might want to get rid of slavery altogether, but apparently it cannot do so all at once. It starts that process by strictly limiting the amount of time that slaves can serve their masters.
• Judaism is not about seeking revenge. The notion of "eye for eye and tooth for tooth" is one of the Bible's most misunderstood ideas. It doesn't mean that you can go around poking out people's eyes or pulling out their teeth. Rather, it means that the punishment and the penalty must always be appropriate for the crime or the damage that has taken place.
• Caring for strangers is one of the most important teachings in the entire Torah. This teaching is so important that it is repeated no less than thirty-six times — more than any other teaching — and twice in this Torah portion alone! The stranger (ger) is not only someone you don't know; it is anyone who is not an Israelite and yet lives within your society and lives by its rules. The reason why Jews must treat strangers with kindness and justice is because they themselves were strangers in the land of Egypt.
• Judaism believes in watching out for another person's property — even if that person is an enemy. This is a major part of the Torah's emphasis on justice. We might not like someone, but we are not allowed to be cruel to that person, or the person's belongings. In particular, we have to help people find things that they have lost.
• The Torah cares about what Jews eat, like mixing milk and meat. There are numerous dietary laws in the Torah such as permitting and forbidding certain animals, and not eating leavened products during Passover. Not boiling a kid in its mother's milk is repeated three times in the Torah, and yet it is one of the most baffling rules. The reasoning behind it is somewhat mysterious, but it might be connected to the necessity of separating life (symbolized by milk) from death (symbolized by meat).
Divrei Torah
Why No Cheeseburgers?
"You may not boil a kid in its mother's milk" is one of the Bible's more puzzling laws. It has come to mean no milk and meat together in the same dish, or in the same meal — or for some Jews, within hours of eating. It has also come to mean that there should be separate dishes for milk and meat. These are part of the Rabbinic laws of kashrut, or keeping kosher.
Perhaps these laws arose because Jews wanted to maintain their difference from other people — even and especially concerning food. The medieval philosopher Maimonides, who was also a physician, thought that eating milk and meat together was unhealthy. But he was also sure that mixing milk and meat was a Canaanite ritual: "Meat boiled in milk is too filling. But it is also connected with idolatry, perhaps being part of a pagan festival." Maimonides was probably correct. Ancient Canaanite documents actually specify that there was a ritual in which a kid was slaughtered in milk.
But there are other, ethical reasons for the practice of separating milk and meat. To cook a kid in its mother's milk is just plain cruel. The Torah cares about animals' feelings. Later, in Deut. 22:6–7, we will learn that if you are going to take eggs from a nest, you have to shoo the mother bird away to spare her feelings. The contemporary teacher Abraham Joshua Heschel teaches: "The goat provides man with the single most perfect food he possesses: milk. How ungrateful and callous we would be to take the child of an animal to whom we are so indebted and cook it in its mother's very milk."
But there is yet another reason — and it might be one of the most important things that Judaism has ever taught. Meat represents death; after all, the animal is dead. Milk represents life because a mother feeds it to her offspring. Judaism believes in the separation of life and death, and so this might be why Jews traditionally do not mix meat and milk. It may also be why Leviticus prohibits the mixing of wool and cotton in the same garment: wool comes from a lamb, which is not killed when it is sheared; cotton comes from a flax plant, which dies in the process. Judaism also prohibits trying to talk with the dead or commune with the spirits; the dead are dead and we are alive, and the realms of life and death should not mix.
Whew, that's pretty heavy. So let's lighten up by ending this serious discussion with a joke. Moses is on Mount Sinai, receiving the Torah. God says to him: "You shall not boil a kid in its mother's milk." Moses asks: "Does that mean we should not eat cheeseburgers?" God repeats: "You shall not boil a kid in its mother's milk." Moses then asks: "Does that mean we should wait six hours between eating milk and eating dairy?" God repeats: "You shall not boil a kid in its mother's milk." Moses then asks: "Does this mean we should have separate kitchenware for meat and for dairy?" At this, God yells at Moses: "OK, HAVE IT YOUR WAY!"
The point is clear. God told Moses what to do, but Moses had to figure out how to interpret the commandment. That's Judaism — a living interpretation of God's words.
Yes, Talk to Strangers
What is one of the first basic rules that kids hear from their parents? "Don't talk to strangers!" American culture wants us to be afraid of strangers. They could harm children. They could be immigrants, coming to take our jobs. Science fiction films are obsessed with aliens, who are usually terrible and threatening (though, like E.T., occasionally loveable). There is a word for the fear of strangers: xenophobia.
But, as is true with many things, Judaism offers the world a different point of view. Yes, some strangers and foreigners are hostile. Jews know this well, for, in Jewish history, this was true more often than not. So you might think that Jews would be wary of strangers and preach distrust. But quite the contrary: Judaism teaches that not every stranger is an object of fear and scorn, and, what is more, we need to be concerned about the stranger.
Ancient Jewish legislation offers us the possibility of an entire class of people who are the subject of our compassion and protection — the ger (a non-Israelite who accepted some of the basic commandments of the Torah, that is, who agreed to be law-abiding "almost" citizen). As a reward for doing this, the ger could reside in the Land of Israel and enjoy many, if not most, of the privileges of citizenship afforded the Jewish people. As the object of our concern, the ger becomes part of a group that includes the Levite, the fatherless child, and the widow.
What do they all have in common? Their absolute vulnerability and their dependence on public goodwill. The Torah mandates love — V'ahavta, v'ahavtem — only three times. The order is remarkable. First, "love your fellow as yourself" (Lev. 19:18); then, "love the stranger as yourself" (Lev. 19:34); and, only later, God — "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might" (Deut. 6:5).
Our ancestors needed to hear this because in the ancient world being kind to strangers was hardly a no brainer. Life in the desert could be very difficult. Rashi understood the commandment about loving strangers this way: "If you oppress him, he can oppress you in return and say to you: 'You too are descended from strangers.' Don't complain about a blemish in your friend when you have the identical problems." Remember: the Jews were once strangers in Egypt.
When people are mistreated, there is a tendency for them to become insensitive to other people's suffering. You might want to say: "Hey, no one helped us when we were slaves, so we are not going to stick our necks out for others either!" That could influence the way you feel about, say, immigrants. But in the words of Bible scholar Nehama Leibowitz: "A history of alienation and slavery, the memory of your own humiliation is by itself no guarantee that you will not oppress the stranger in your own country once you have gained independence and left it all behind you." So the Torah has to spell it out: Learn the right lesson. Have empathy. Don't become an oppressor yourself.
The positive attitude toward strangers was so important that for much of its history Judaism was open to converts. During the Roman period many non-Jews wanted to learn about Judaism, and in those postbiblical times we have accounts that entire synagogues were filled with yirei elohim ("God fearers," people who believed in God), who, while not officially Jewish, flocked to learn Torah and to observe some Jewish customs.
That's why the ancient Rabbis interpreted the commandment to be kind to strangers to also mean to be kind to converts — and to welcome those who want to explore Judaism and consider joining the Jewish people. Today, like then, our doors — all our doors — should be wide open to the stranger who is needy and to those who are curious about Judaism.
Connections
• Have you had any experience with the kosher rule of not mixing milk and meat? How do you feel about it?
• How do you feel about strangers? Have you ever tried to help a stranger? What would be some guidelines you could give people about helping strangers?
• What has been the historic American attitude toward strangers? What do you think it is today?
• Have you ever lost anything? What was it? How did that make you feel? Have you ever returned a lost object to someone? What was that experience like? How did it feel?
• Do you know anyone who has converted to Judaism? Why did they do so? What have their experiences been like?
CHAPTER 2The Haftarah
Mishpatim: Jeremiah 34:8–22; 33:25–26
When bad stuff happens, you need to figure out why it is happening. That pretty much sums up the ancient Jewish response to catastrophe. The prophet Jeremiah, preaching in the years leading up to the destruction of Judea by the Babylonians, has his own reason for why the destruction is coming.
It is simply this: in this week's Torah portion, we read that the Israelites were supposed to set free their Judean slaves at the end of the sixth year of service. Yes, the Judean ruling class did that — but, then, they took back the slaves that they had previously released! A bad decision, and God will punish them with exile.
Free Your Slaves: Or Else!
Jeremiah is not a happy camper. No way.
Of course, that is usually the way it is with Jeremiah. None of the prophets were particularly sweet people, but Jeremiah was, in some ways, the most thunderous of them all. There is a term for a long literary work in which the author laments what is going on in society. The term is "jeremiad." You guessed it: it comes from the prophet Jeremiah.
So, here's Jeremiah's "jeremiad du jour." He is angry — and, frankly, who can blame him? He knows that God commanded something very specific about Hebrew slaves: they had to be released after six years. Six years of working, and then set free in the seventh year. Get it? Just like Shabbat.
Now, let's be clear about what we are talking about here. You read the word "slave," and what's the first thing that comes to mind? Probably Israelite slaves in Egypt, and maybe African American slaves in the Old South. But that's really not what this passage is talking about. When it refers to Hebrew slaves, it is actually referring to people who sold themselves into temporary servitude in order to pay off their debts. They were more like indentured servants. But, for the period of time they served, these servants were owned by someone else, which is why we refer to them as slaves.
And why did the Israelites have to free their slaves? Because they knew what it was like to be slaves themselves, in Egypt! How could they have done anything else? As Rabbi Lori Cohen writes: "After having been recently released from bondage in Egypt, the Israelites were commanded by God to be especially sensitive to the needs of the slave. The slave was both a human being with feelings and insights, as well as property, having monetary value." So they had to be sensitive to the feelings of their slaves (which was totally not what happened in Egypt), and they had to set their slaves free after a set period of time (which was also totally not what happened in Egypt).
No wonder Jeremiah is so angry. This violated the covenant that King Zedekiah had made with the people of Jerusalem: he had promised to set free the Hebrew slaves. And it also violated an earlier, even more important covenant: the covenant that God made with the Israelites when God took them out of Egypt. The wealthy Judeans cheated. Yes, they freed their workers — but then they took them back. As punishment, God cut the Israelite kingdom into shreds. As Jeremiah proclaimed, "But afterward they turned about and brought back the men and women they had set free, and forced them into slavery again" (34:11).
Jeremiah then quotes God's response. "Assuredly, thus said the Lord: You would not obey Me and proclaim a release, each to his kinsman and countryman. Lo! I proclaim your release — declares the Lord — to the sword, to pestilence, and to famine; and I will make you a horror to all the kingdoms of the earth" (34:17).
The ancient philosopher Philo writes: "The Hebrew legislation concerning the Hebrew bondsman breathes kindness and humanity throughout." And, by refusing to live that way, the Judeans had profaned God's name (34:16). That act of refusing to set slaves free, according to Jeremiah, was the reason why the Judeans were forced to go into exile — not because of a "religious" sin, like idolatry, but because they failed to observe the divine laws of social justice.
The lesson? God cares about so much more than simply "religion" as ritual; justice is supremely important. And it should be essential to us too. For some reason, the Torah did not completely abolish slavery, despite its ambivalence about it. Even in an imperfect world, always pursue justice.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1-24:18) and Haftarah (Jeremiah 34:8-22; 33:25-26): The JPS B'nai Mitzvah Torah Commentary"
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Copyright © 2018 Rabbi Jeffrey K. Salkin.
Excerpted by permission of UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA PRESS.
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Table of Contents
General Introduction Mishpatim: Torah Commentary Mishpatim: Haftarah Commentary