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Shoftim

Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9

Isaiah 51:12-52:12

Our parshah this week takes us into the realm of community in several seemingly unrelated ways. It begins with the injunction to appoint courts and judges to help people to determine how best to live in community, and seeks to encourage us with the most famous line (Deut. 16:20) “Justice, justice, you shall pursue.”

The word translated as “justice” here is “tzedek,” which contains the meanings of righteousness, fairness, charity as well as justice. The text ends on a very different note, the description of the ritual for clearing a region of land from the taint of a murder whose perpetrator is unknown.

In between is much to mull over, but I will discuss just one point: the need to have two witnesses in a case against someone, never one. It is clear from our parshah how vastly important it is to find good ways of living together, and to do so fairly and with an eye to making each community safe for everyone to live in and for creating appropriate consequences for unhealthy social behaviors.

The Divine is able to see all the points of view, to choose ineffably the appropriate path and judgment. God judges alone. Not so human beings: we are enjoined always to do things of import in company. This is clearly a deep-rooted part of human nature, from the very beginning, as God sees that we are created in God’s likeness, and yet different; thus is a woman created to be a companion for the first human.

Not that we need this proof to understand this — when you look at images of happy people in modern advertising, they are so seldom alone: families, couples, groups, sharing a great moment together.

And so we are bound by the Torah to make sure that we do not undertake the most delicate of relationships without advice and careful consideration.

As a judge, one holds the life of the judged in one’s hand. Suddenly, the moment calls for a greater measure of Godliness than we might ordinarily connect to. It is truly tzedek that we seek at this moment, just as it will be chesed that we request in a few short weeks as we gather before the throne of judgment on Yom Kippur.

To be a true leader, a true judge, we need fairness and mercy, and also the characteristic of being able to step outside our own selves, to do for the community what the community cannot always do for itself, to make the land and the city safe for everyone.

This brings us to the startling ritual at the end of our chapter. In the case of a murder outside the boundaries of towns, where the murderer is unknown, there is this urgent need to cleanse the land, to place blame upon someone, to requite the dead. And with no one to pin the deed to, it is the responsibility of the leaders. They kill a heifer, for expiation.

This young cow helps, in its death, to restore the balance to the world. Here, the return to normalcy is done by the prayer of the leadership: “Our hands are clean of this death,” they say, as they sacrifice the very symbol of life in an agricultural society — the female cow.

To the people, it says, “we, who are not responsible for the horror, are responsible for the rebuilding. We, who are here to say that someone’s actions rent a terrible rift in society, are willing to give up something precious to gather back our sense of security and trust.” With this, the wound begins to heal, the criminal begins to make a new life, the community reconnects and grows closer.

We must never forget the power of judgment, nor the strength in partnership. For when the one is too awesome and complex for us (though never for God), God has provided us with companions to share and lighten the burden along the way.

As we move into the season of introspection and forgiveness, let us remember how powerful we are, and how great is the gift we have been given in our friends.

Rabbi Elisheva Salamo is the spiritual leader of Keddem Congregation in Palo Alto.