Parashat Mishpatim – Shabbat Shekalim – 5786

A D’var Torah for Parashat Mishpatim – Shabbat Shekalim

By Rabbi Anat Katzir

Reading the laws presented in the parashah this week was an opening to struggle with some of the discomfort caused by what feels like a gap of values between my world and the biblical one. It is through grappling with the reality of ancient history, and with the input from generations of Rabbinic leadership that followed, that I can see how behind the laws there are similar values and shared truths that needed to be redefined and amended through time and space. It is a lesson in context and adaptation of values over eras and cultures, and also a struggle with finding ways to overcome the gaps between Jewish communities of different interpretations, when it comes to understanding communal responsibilities and sharing the burdens of sustaining a modern-day state while finding guidance in ancient law.

When working with b-mitzvah students, the question often comes up, “What is the difference between mitzvot and laws?” We look at the inspiration which our Jewish laws, our codes have given to the modern liberal world. We marvel and take pride together in how the ideas of our ancestors helped create a world that values and protects life of not just humans but all living beings, allows for freedoms of worship and understanding of the need for mental and spiritual rest. The mitzvot foster respect, and honor religious identity and faith. But our relationships with laws of our county differs from our relationships the mitzvot, which are considered sacred obligations. We live by the law of our land. We are expected by the country’s leaders and those who share life in the country with us, to respect it. And we engage with it to help update, change, adapt and mend it. We want the law to speak to our values and to make sure it is, in fact, protecting and strengthening our society. By Contrast, it’s our mitzvot, which guide our moral and spiritual understandings, that encourage us, as Jews, no matter where we live, to be in conversation with the laws of our land. The hukim u’mishpatim that our leaders set for us.

As I read the lines that relate directly to Hammourabi’s Code- “…eye for an eye, tooth for tooth…” (Exodus 21:24), through the physical discomfort of such rules, I am appreciating the ancient leadership that began to make order in a chaotic world and build the concept of community, responsibility and safety. This is the beginning of putting into a legal codex, the actual value of the nefesh, of our physical existence, and then identifying the meaning of property, personal belongings, and responsibility for the people and animals under our care.

The link of Parashat Mishpatim and Shabbat Shekalim is a reminder of what my מפקדים, my IDF commanders, used to tell us is our responsibility for each other – “step under the stretcher.” To step up and help carry the load and the responsibility for everyone in the community. In the verses of Shabbat Shekalim (Exodus 30), we are told of the census, during which the half-shekels are collected.

In verse 12: …כִּי תִשָּׂא אֶת-רֹאשׁ בְּנֵי-יִשְׂרָאֵל, לִפְקֻדֵיהֶם, וְנָתְנוּ אִישׁ כֹּפֶר נַפְשׁוֹ לַיהוָה, בִּפְקֹד אֹתָם- ”When you take a census of the Israelites according to their army enrollment, each shall pay God a ransom for himself on being enrolled…” The root word for census פקד (Peh, Kof, Dalet) is the same is the one for -פקודה- Pekudah-order. The root is being used three times in this verse to supposedly explain the same act of taking census and continues to refer to those in the census as פקודים- those being counted- which, in Hebrew, also translates to those being commanded. The act of giving the half-shekel is described as “כפר”- “ransom” in that first verse. In the following verse, this giving of half-shekel is described as תרומה- offering, which Ramban interpreted as voluntary dues.

So this is a bit confusing…Could “ransom” be voluntary? Is it an “offering”? Or is it mandatory, a collection, a ransom for each head counted?

Hazal, in adapting the concept of equal giving toward communal sacrifice, interpreted the law after the destruction of the temple, and in honor of the previous contribution, they suggested a giving of tzedakah. An act of social justice. A contribution for support of community. This was directly connected to the Purim giving and is part of the link to the month of Adar. But in bringing up Purim, the question of our linked fate as a people and the need to stand up and sacrifice ourselves as Queen Esther did, for the sake of our existence, brings up a different interpretation to the communal giving.

In the dynamic of Israeli society today, I feel a sense of similar tension. As we look at the much-disputed laws around mandatory service for all Israelis, there are so many questions around who is counted, how to make a meaningful contribution. For the land of Israel specifically, it is a unique question – In הלכות מלכים ומלחמות (Hilkhot Melakhim U’Milhamot) “The Laws of Kings and Their Wars,” Maimonides reflects on the “mitzvah” of settling in the Holy Land. Ramban in response adds that this should be a mitzvah to conquer it. So would these mitzvot promote service? Should it be mandatory for people to put themselves in danger? Maimonides, as well as Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi agree that if the land is dangerous, you have the right to leave it, but the מידת חסידות (Middat Hasidut)- the moral and elevated spiritual behavior- would be to stay in the land and even endanger your own life (Hilkhot Melakhim 5:9).

In his speech “Our Role in this Hour,” in 1938, David Ben Gurion spoke in response to the news he was getting from the Jews of Europe and recognized the need for the people of the “Yishuv”- the settlements in Judeo-Palestine to come together to support the leadership of the movement aiming to establish a Jewish state:

״חברות אינה שייכוּת אורגניזציונית או אידיאולוגית בלבד אלא קודם כול תכונה נפשית, הרגשה של ערבות הדדית. בלי ערבות הדדית אין אחדות שלמה, אמיתית”

“Community membership isn’t just an organizational or ideological belonging, but first and foremost a mental state, a sense of mutual commitment. Without mutual commitment there is no real and whole unity.”

What is my responsibility in belonging? How do I show up for my people- of country and/or of faith?

In both the countries where I feel I belong, I have tried to ask what is my half-shekel? What am I doing in order to be counted and for my weight to help make a difference?

My half-shekel is not completely voluntary, by law of the land, I pay taxes, and by law of the land I enlisted to serve my country. By my understanding of Jewish mitzvot I give tzedakah with the faith and belief that it is a form of organized communal justice, and by my interpretations of the same mitzvot I chose to for my service to be IDF service in a voluntary combat unit (as opposed to other service options that could be non-military). This is a reflection of the relationship between my understanding on the mitzvot vs. my legal obligations.

There are currently Jewish communities who struggle with resolving a more complicated gap. How do you respond when your understanding of sacred obligations collide with the laws of your land? How do you choose to act when they contradict and when the laws and regulations threaten your religious way of life? Are you allowed to opt out of your half-shekel contribution? Where do you draw the lines of the community you take responsibility for?

For me, I find that in some situations, my half-shekel are my words and my voice that I volunteer to help make the mishpatim and the mitzvot align in the world I wish to see. I see it as a sacred responsibility to stand up and challenge these rules and regulations. I believe in peaceful and meaningful paths of challenging those in leadership to find the shared values and resolve these tensions.

The name for the Israeli coin today is still Shekel, the New Shekel. The origin still being the weight or the precious metal used in Mesopotamia from around 3000 BCE. A reminder that in giving, even half a shekel, we give of ourselves. We link ourselves to the community, we step under the stretcher and lift the weight of our peers and help move forward together.

For all those paying your ransoms, volunteering, giving your dues in shekels, dollars, in service, and in voice. Yashar Kohakhem. May you continue to find strength and inspiration for your work and inspire others around you and in your community.