Mishpatim
Exodus 21:1-24:18
Numbers 28:9-15
Isaiah 66:1-24
It is said that one who has mastered the study of Parashat Mishpatim, including thorough understanding of the commentaries to the text, has mastered the whole corpus of Jewish law. Where, then, does one begin? Anywhere at all.
Hidden in the midst of this comprehensive survey of civil, criminal and cultic law comes the following one-line instruction: “You shall be holy people to Me; do not eat flesh torn by beasts in the field; cast it to the dogs” (Exodus 22:30).
This small law is hardly the grandest of the legal collection before us, which includes some of the fundamental tenets of Israelite society, governing commercial life, interpersonal relations, protection of the land, social justice and the cultic calendar. Amid all of these grand teachings, why does the Torah suddenly emphasize, “You shall be holy people to Me?”
Naturally, commentators rush to respond. The Kotzker Rebbe, closely reading the words of this verse, understands the command to mean, “Let your holiness be human — the holiness of those molded out of clay, not the holiness of angels, for God has plenty of angels.”
Why does the text juxtapose the grand command to live our lives in holy ways to this apparently trivial piece of proto-kashrut law? Precisely to tell us to craft our holy lives out of the stuff of our everyday lives. One might argue that this is the most Jewish, and most essential, way to live a holy life — not in a monastery, not in years of solitude, not in removing oneself from the challenges and temptations and frustrations of the everyday, but in their midst.
I’m not sure whether I agree that God has enough angels. From where I sit, it doesn’t look that way. Perhaps precisely for that reason, there is need for ever more holy living here on earth, in the midst of the field and the animals, of violence and loss, of the trivial and the repulsive details of life. Aspiring to this very human kind of holiness would be quite enough.
Then comes another commentator with a different take on the connection between the command to be holy and the law against eating flesh torn by wild animals. In the collection Likkutei Yehoshua, we find a fanciful etymology that connects the word “people” (anshei) with a word meaning “forget” (nasho). With this pun in mind, the text, “You shall be holy people to Me,” suddenly yields another meaning: “Forget that you are holy. Then you will be Mine.”
According to this reading, the text intentionally grounds the commandment to be holy in a mundane point of law as a reminder not to get too impressed with our own goodness, ethics and efforts to do God’s will. In this view, those acts and states of mind that are least self-conscious are the most holy.
Think of the person who works very quietly, behind the scenes, to make a difference in the world. This is the sort of holy life to which we should aspire. No accolades, congratulations or thank-you gifts, except the extraordinary closeness to God and goodness that such a life brings.
Finally, yet another commentary. “Be holy people to Me,” in the view of David Tamar, reminds us that the essence of holy living lies in awareness of God, of spirit, of that which is beyond us. Don’t think, he says, that you can be holy without connection to God.
The combination of righteous acts with awareness of God, Torah and the larger context of our lives is the essence of holy living. That’s why commandments about holiness in the Torah always include reference to God (e.g., “Be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation,” Exodus 19:6; “Be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy,” Leviticus 19:2 and elsewhere). Remember, holy living is made of the combination of righteous living and God-awareness (commentaries from Itturei Torah, Vol. 3, Page 190).
Suddenly, this parashah emerges not only as a guide to law, but as a guide to a life of holiness. Three commentaries, three different points of emphasis, but one comprehensive view of holy living. We are called to be as holy as we can be: we humans, in the midst of our field, our work, our hungers, our relationships. We are reminded to beware of too much self-congratulation as we live the way we are supposed to live. And we are told that to be holy is to know the larger context to which we belong, our connection to God.
May we be given what we need to be as holy as we can be.