TORAH TALK
Mishpatim: Exodus 21:1-24:18
Please Relieve My Beast of Burden
Mishpatim: Exodus 21:1-24:18
Please Relieve My Beast of Burden
Last week we stood once again at Sinai, remembering the power and majesty of revelation and divine presence. This week we dive into the details of law, the social rules, moral imperatives, ethical injunctions, civil and criminal laws, as well as cultic prescriptions, that are all equally regarded as expressions of divine will. This miscellany of laws is more categorical than comprehensive, but they help us further understand the emerging society the Israelites are destined to create. The people, in the aftermath of Sinai, are preparing to take instruction and direction. The laws are given out of love, to help them care for one another, as a way to shift their avdut as slavery to their avdut as service to God and community.
Many years ago, I was preparing to give a dvar torah on Parashat Mishpatim, and I had had a difficult week. My father was recovering from surgery, I was anticipating having to find my first official job after a fellowship, and I was caught under the weight of difficulty and decision. I was studying the portion with my hevruta (study partner) who knew the kind of week I had had. I wasn’t finding much inspiration in text, when we came upon this: “When you see the donkey of your enemy lying down under its burden, and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it” (Ex. 23:5). Admittedly, I was focused on the why of needing to do something kind for my enemy, when my friend offered the perspective that, perhaps I was so cranky and uninspired because I was feeling like the donkey in the text, weighed down in the field, hoping someone, friend or foe, would somehow lighten my load.
It occurred to me then, that for all the laws in the Torah that demand our care for our neighbors and constitute the covenant with God, there were really no laws that demanded self-care, and our ability to ask for help when we need it.
Last week, Jethro offered Moses the example of sharing the burden of leadership through delegation of responsibilities, but this verse speaks to something deeper. The medieval mefarshim (commentators) focus on the meaning of the word ki in our verse. It means when in this context, thereby making a presumption that such a thing will happen. It is, therefore, an obligation, not a choice, to lighten the burden from the beast of the field, and even more so, the donkey of someone who is not your friend. How many of us see caring for ourselves as an afterthought, when we are more easily concerned with caring for others. The essence of the verse here, I think, is to remind us that lifting the burden from the donkey enables it to be of greater service. When we take care of ourselves, we are much better able to care for others.
Perhaps we can understand the response of Israel of naaseh v’nishma (we will do, and we will listen) to mean that we will do for others and we will also listen to what we ourselves need. To delegate, to ask for help, to relieve someone’s burden, and to be relieved of that which weighs us down, is part of the covenant, too. The laws of Mishpatim are placed before us, but only we can choose to walk in these ways that lead to wholeness of community and wholeness of self.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yael Ridberg
Many years ago, I was preparing to give a dvar torah on Parashat Mishpatim, and I had had a difficult week. My father was recovering from surgery, I was anticipating having to find my first official job after a fellowship, and I was caught under the weight of difficulty and decision. I was studying the portion with my hevruta (study partner) who knew the kind of week I had had. I wasn’t finding much inspiration in text, when we came upon this: “When you see the donkey of your enemy lying down under its burden, and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it” (Ex. 23:5). Admittedly, I was focused on the why of needing to do something kind for my enemy, when my friend offered the perspective that, perhaps I was so cranky and uninspired because I was feeling like the donkey in the text, weighed down in the field, hoping someone, friend or foe, would somehow lighten my load.
It occurred to me then, that for all the laws in the Torah that demand our care for our neighbors and constitute the covenant with God, there were really no laws that demanded self-care, and our ability to ask for help when we need it.
Last week, Jethro offered Moses the example of sharing the burden of leadership through delegation of responsibilities, but this verse speaks to something deeper. The medieval mefarshim (commentators) focus on the meaning of the word ki in our verse. It means when in this context, thereby making a presumption that such a thing will happen. It is, therefore, an obligation, not a choice, to lighten the burden from the beast of the field, and even more so, the donkey of someone who is not your friend. How many of us see caring for ourselves as an afterthought, when we are more easily concerned with caring for others. The essence of the verse here, I think, is to remind us that lifting the burden from the donkey enables it to be of greater service. When we take care of ourselves, we are much better able to care for others.
Perhaps we can understand the response of Israel of naaseh v’nishma (we will do, and we will listen) to mean that we will do for others and we will also listen to what we ourselves need. To delegate, to ask for help, to relieve someone’s burden, and to be relieved of that which weighs us down, is part of the covenant, too. The laws of Mishpatim are placed before us, but only we can choose to walk in these ways that lead to wholeness of community and wholeness of self.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yael Ridberg