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Shabbat Shalom: Parshat Mishpatim
Efrat, Israel -- “The stranger must neither be cheated nor oppressed, because you were strangers in the Land of Egypt.” (Exodus 22:20) The most seminal event in the history of the Israelites was undoubtedly the Exodus from Egypt: not only do we celebrate a week-long festival (Pesach) as a re-enactment of our freedom from Egyptian enslavement, but we also remember – and enunciate – the Exodus each and every Sabbath and Festival when we recite the blessing of sanctification over the wine. Moreover, in the very first word of the Decalogue, the Almighty describes Himself [as it were] as the Lord who took the Hebrews out of Egypt. Indeed, the Egyptian experience is invoked to enforce and highlight the moral mission of our people. As expressed clearly by the Jewish-French philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, the moral fiber of a nation is proven by the manner in which it relates to the “stranger,” to the “other”; and as we see in our Biblical reading, we are exhorted to demonstrate special sensitivity towards the “stranger” because, as strangers, we too were oppressed and tyrannized in the Land of Egypt. The Bible goes so far as to warn us in no less than twenty-three (or even forty-six) places not to behave insensitively towards the stranger! (B.T. Bava Metziah 49b). The Talmudic Sages distinguish between monetary cheating (onaah) and verbal oppression (lahatz) – which includes even reminding the stranger in passing of his Gentile ancestry; in fact, the Rabbis considered verbal abuse to be the greater crime since money can be repaid but a cruel remark can never be taken back! (B.T. Bava Metziah 55b). Why such heightened sensitivity towards the “stranger,” a term which designates both a righteous proselyte who converted to Judaism – a tzadik, and a ger toshav, a Gentile whose commitment to the seven Noahide laws of morality grants him the right to live in the Land of Israel together with the Israelite nation? First of all, the Jewish peoples’ long history of being considered outsiders, aliens, strange ‘strangers’ and estranged ‘others’ has certainly given us the sensitivity of what it means to be perceived as the eternal ‘other.’ The very first Jew Abraham introduces himself to the people of Het as a “resident alien,” Moses names his first son Gershon because “he was a stranger in a strange land,” and the Hebrews (‘hapiru’, pariahs) in Egypt saw how their different identity led first to their dehumanization and then to their physical decimation at the hands of an oppressive majority “in-group;” the one who is different is often feared and denigrated; the next step is to see him as a worthless creature, far less important than the local population and therefore “fair game” to be discriminated against or even disposed with at the whim of an establishment ruling class. The Bible wants us to carry in our DNA the memories of the pain of having been persecuted as the ‘other,’ never to forget the suffering experienced throughout our long history. If we truly remember what the Egyptians did to us we will never regard others as inferior and unworthy. The reasoning is very simple: we humans all come from the same family, we are all children of the same G-d, we’ve all been fashioned in the very same womb, so that no one dare ever view any other as being strange or inferior because ultimately we all share the same DNA, a Derived Nature from the Almighty. The Bible clearly teaches: “When a stranger dwells with you, a stranger in your land, do not cheat him; like one of your [natural] citizens shall he be considered by you, that stranger who lives with you. You shall love him like yourself, I am the Lord your G-d” (Lev. 19:23,24). You shall love him because he is like you, because each of you contains a portion of the same G-d above. You are the stranger and he is you, because the same G-d bestowed upon each of you the transcendent life-force which makes you each distinctively human. If you see him as being less than you today, he can see you as being less than him tomorrow; your humanity is inextricably bound up in his! The 12th century commentator Nahmanides (the Ramban) puts it a little differently. In effect he says to every individual: “Do not oppress the stranger because you think that he has no one to defend him; remember how Pharaoh learned that G-d defends the stranger. G-d is the shield of the oppressed, the one who sees the tears of those who have no one else to give them comfort. G-d will save every person from the hands of those stronger than he; G-d will always hear the cries of the widow and the orphan, the pleas of those who have no one upon whom to rely except their Parent in Heaven” (Ramban on Exodus 22:20). I would take this one step further. G-d hears the stranger because G-d – no less than Israel – is the consummate Stranger, the one who is wholly Other, Kadosh, forever apart and separate. G-d is ‘homeless’ in this world, waiting for us to “make Him a home so that He may dwell amongst us." But G-d can only find His home amongst us if we leave room for every other human being in our home, in our world. Only when we make this world into a loving home in which every human being – no matter how different he may look and act – can feel at home, will G-d enter and feel at home as well, embracing all of His children with His rays of splendor, warmth and love. Shabbat Shalom Enjoying Rabbi Riskin's Shabbat Shalom commentaries?
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