Anyone who has spent time with me in a meeting (specifically a meeting during the colder months) knows that I am almost always freezing. For about nine months a year, I keep a space heater on in my office, and ten months a year I use one in my bedroom. I simply can’t get warm enough. This also means I always have a sweater or sweatshirt on me or with me, and sometimes even a blanket at the ready in case a meeting space is too cold for my comfort. Since I’m usually prepared with these items, I also often end up lending them out when needed. Of course, occasionally I forget to gather them back, which means sometimes I’m cold, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

The ability for me to find warmth, however, is a huge blessing, and it makes me aware of how many people do not have that luxury. It’s a reminder of how much there is to do to support those who need warmth and shelter, especially in these cold and wet months in Portland. 

This week in the Torah we read Parshat Mishpatim, the middle section of text in Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus. The Israelites are on their way out of Egypt to Israel. They have begun to set up their own system of laws and rules, beginning last week with the Ten Commandments. This week, Mishpatim focuses on interpersonal laws with regard to business. The main theme of this section of text is that we have the obligation to treat each other in business and personal relationships as complete, equal human beings.

In these new laws, we learn, “If you take your neighbor’s garment in pledge, you must return it to them before the sun sets; it is his only clothing.” The notion that someone should have what they need by sunset, the time in which we are most vulnerable, is, according to the Torah, the essence of humanity. Sharing warmth and protection, especially during this time of year, is more than a nice gesture; it’s a commandment.  

If you’re cleaning out your home of items you no longer use, consider donating them instead of tossing them. KGW offers a non-exhaustive list of organizations that are taking donations. 

How can you tell if the information you’re presented with on a daily basis is true? I don’t mean “true” as in “your truth,” I mean “true” as in factual. In the past half-decade, one of the things that continues to divide us more and more is mistrust, which is only encouraged by social media and the popularization of the claim of “fake news.” We’re living in a strange time, when science is subjective and statistics can be manipulated and interpreted in whichever way makes our side appear to be right.

Instead of having productive debates over the merit of various ideas, we’re fed misinformation at such a rapid pace that even social media channels have had to fact check tweets and place warnings on posts that haven’t been proven or substantiated. What’s worse, when we hear false information about anyone or anything, we’re now forced to ask ourselves if the repercussions of speaking up are even worth the time and energy. 

Speaking out to correct falsehoods and stop the spread of misinformation takes courage, and the obligation to do so goes back to the Torah in this week’s portion. This week we read Parshat Mishpatim, the middle section of text in Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus. The Israelites are on their way out of Egypt to Israel. They have begun to set up their own system of laws and rules, beginning last week with the Ten Commandments. This week, Parshat Mishpatim focuses on interpersonal laws with regard to business. The main idea of this section of text is that we have the obligation to treat each other in business and in relationships as complete, equal human beings.

As we learn in the laws we read in chapter 23, verse 1: “You must not carry false rumors; you shall not join hands with the guilty to act as a malicious witness.” There’s no ambiguity there. The language itself is almost as heavy as the burden of carrying falsehoods and lies. The Torah is clear in the instruction that when we hear something that is false, we have an obligation to correct, and bring the truth to light. 

However, before you go around correcting everyone, which might make you right, but likely won’t win you any friends, the Torah also tells us that we are to fulfill this obligation with grace and compassion. 

Lies only weigh us down. They weigh on our conscience, and their propagation can have weighty consequences. Parshat Mishpatim reminds us that the mitzvah of lightening someone’s load isn’t just about a physical burden. To be truly courageous and compassionate human beings, our job is to lift up the truth, and by doing so, lessen everyone’s burden just a little bit. 

I used to be the odd ball kid. (OK, to be fair, I’m still pretty weird). As a child I had high emotions all the time and struggled in large group settings. I was awkward and bookish and not very popular. I simply did not fit in with my peers for most of my life. It wasn’t until I went to college and then graduate school that I finally found a group of people I could connect with in an honest and open way. I felt as though I finally found a group of people where I fit in and understood what it was like to be part of a community. Of course maturing in age and experience probably helped some too. Unfortunately, even as an adult I’ve found that many of the people I grew up with still see me as who I used to be. No matter how much I have personally grown and changed, to some people I will always be that same strange kid, but in an adult body. If nothing else, it certainly has me hesitant about attending my 20-year reunion this year, even if it’s only on Zoom. 

We all experience this to some degree as we grow and change throughout our lives. While our past genuinely does contribute to who we are as individuals today, we’re not who we used to be, and being reminded of our past, especially if it’s painful, can be devastating and destructive more than nostalgic.

Parshat Mishpatim, which we read this week, actually forbids dwelling on parts of a person’s past. The Israelites are on their way out of Egypt to Israel. They have begun to set up their own system of laws and rules, beginning last week with the Ten Commandments. This week, Parshat Mishpatim, focuses on interpersonal laws with regard to business. The main idea of this section of text is that we have the obligation to treat each other in business and in relationships as complete, equal human beings.

In chapter 22, verses 19-20 we read, “Whoever sacrifices to a god other than the Lord alone shall be proscribed. You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” The word for stranger is ger, which is also used for someone who has converted. It was from these verses that the sages forbade belittling sincere converts by reminding them of their idol worshipping days. 

The current version of who you are may appear quite different to those who knew you when. Similarly, people who only know us as adults may be surprised when they learn things about our former selves. The Torah reminds us not to hold on to who we used to be or to dwell on memories that no longer reflect reality, but to let the past go when necessary and support and welcome ourselves and others in the present. 

It seems like every conversation with my children includes me reminding them to say “please” or “thank you” in some context. From their first moments on earth, we have tried to teach our children gratitude and manners, modeling by saying “please” and “thank you” ourselves as often as we possibly could to instill in them this very important part of what it means to be a kind human. While it may not be the most significant act of social kindness, there is at least a small measure of compassion that’s transferred from person to person every time you engage in polite exchanges like this. Someone holds the door open for me? I say “thank you” with a smile. I need something on a taller shelf and someone notices my struggle and offers to help? “Thank you.” When we use these words, we are acknowledging the humanity in one another. We are expressing gratitude for the gift of partnership. And I would argue that to walk through the world without this is to steal that gift. 

The Torah reminds us of this sentiment as we read Parshat Mishpatim. The Israelites are on their way out of Egypt to Israel. As we read last week, they have begun to set up their own system of laws and rules, and interpersonal relationships make up the core of the laws set forth in this section of text. After first establishing a basic framework to guide our lives, the Torah then turns toward how we treat one another personally and professionally.

As the laws are being laid out, we encounter an odd situation in which an angel or messenger of God comes to greet the Israelite nation. During this encounter God describes what will happen: “You shall serve the Lord your God, and you will bless your bread and your water.” It is from this verse that the Babylonian Talmud understands that we are to bless our food before we eat it. This is the “please” so to speak. And of course we have the “thank you” food blessing afterward. The sages go so far as to say that anyone who enjoys the goods of this world without thanking God for them is like a thief.

When we take food or accept kindness from others, the Torah warns us not to take for granted the work that went into that one action. When we forget the common decency of manners, we “steal” the opportunity to recognize the good in each other and in God. When we stop acknowledging the gifts we’re given, we might start to think these things are owed to us, that they are automatic. Parshat Mishpatim teaches us that building a society based on manners means recognizing the kindness in others. When we do this, we are creating the world that God hoped we would be living in.

 

Since becoming a parent I have learned that I need to look at every situation with my children through multiple lenses. When they’re hurt it’s easy to judge the physical injury. I can look for a bruise or a scrape, clean it off, apply kisses and a bandage (usually My Little Pony), and physically they’re on their way to healing. But that’s just a surface cure. If they fall and hurt themselves on the playground, that might result in a fear of the monkey bars for a while. I might have to offer extra guidance and support on the monkey bars, even if they had successfully conquered them prior to the fall. Or if they fell in front of their friends, they might be shy or embarrassed and need some time to recover their pride. There are so many situational layers in everyday life, and sometimes it’s hard to see them all.

This week we read Parshat Mishpatim, the middle section of text in Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus. The Israelites are on their way out of Egypt to Israel. They have begun to set up their own system of laws and rules, beginning last week with the Ten Commandments. This week, Parshat Mishpatim focuses on interpersonal laws with regard to business. The main idea of this section of text is that we have the obligation to treat each other in business and in relationships as complete, equal human beings.

The laws about injuries inflicted person to person are numerous. Chapter 21, verse 19 teaches that the perpetrator of an injury is required to pay for the treatment as well as the idleness that results. The Mishnah in tractate Moed Katan teaches us that a person who injures another is liable for five types of restitution: for the injury itself, for pain, for medical expenses, for absence from work, and for humiliation and mental anguish. Now that’s what you might call comprehensive health coverage. Life is complex, and the whole person must be taken into account as we work towards healing. In other words, physical healing is only the beginning of how we can support and guide one another through the challenges we face.