Shalom Chaverim!
During our time living in Hong Kong, we were continually amused by the signs posted ubiquitously in public spaces: “No Spitting.” We also appreciated what my memory recalls as quite proper language on signs for a less unexpected issue of civic responsibility: warnings of ‘heavy fines’ should your dog ‘foul the public way’.
[Vigilantism is usually a dangerous way to enforce the law, but there are, nevertheless, certain times when one should take the law into their own hands…Personally, I still always watch where I step!]
Laws reveal much about society. Laws and rules, more often than not, are reactive. They are made in response to what people are doing…usually, what they are doing whose result is some intolerable level of public harm: At some point the Chinese cultural norm of frequent spitting was deemed not only gross, but also a public health hazard. And almost everyone in Hong Kong lives in apartment blocs, so naturally pet owners need to take their dogs out on the sidewalks…and in due time a law demanding owners clean up after their pets necessarily followed.
Similarly, by looking at the laws discussed in this week’s Torah portion, Shoftim, we can get a sense of how our ancestors were behaving.
Among other things in parashat shoftim, laws are mentioned that prohibit a king in Israel from keeping many horses, from selling his people into slavery, from having many wives, or from amassing silver and gold to excess. Hmmm. Guess what kings in those days [and dictators today] were doing with the power of their office?!
We are also forbidden to adopt the awful practices of the local cultures that surrounded ancient Israel: sacrificing children, wizardry, soothsaying, spell-casting, consulting ghosts, and necromancy. Why? Because people tend to do all these things:
*Like wizards, we are inclined to try turning anything we can – even unscrupulously so – into gold; or to try tripping up our rivals – if not by spells – then by any other means.
*Being so desperate to grasp what is really going on, we might trust any blathering “soothsayer” ‘news’ source that only tells us what we want to hear, whose veracity we might not check so long as it affirms what we already suppose…even if it is false rather than true.
- We find that living in fantasy, in illusion – hiding out with ghosts – is seductively easier than facing reality.
- The times when hope is most needed is often precisely the time when hope is most elusive, and so the ‘martyr mentality’ – Hamas-like – is alluring and can take over: fixating on death instead of embracing life.
- To this day, we see that some parents sacrifice their children for corrupt ideals, for vengeance or for victory, or even for their own gain or profit. And in war.
The theoretical link between law and sociology is that rules describe our behavior as much as they try to control it. I think it’s safe to say that in our ancestors’ time, people were no more angels than we are today.
The problem with this way of looking at law, though, is that it is awfully cynical. It focuses on what is wrong with society, not on what is right with society.
We can forget that what opposes the law breakers, are the law makers.
Although laws describe what is wrong, they can also point us toward what is right.
The Torah, which among other things is a law book, would not have endured for 3,500 years if its tone was merely cynical. Its laws are not just descriptive, the Torah is not simply legislation that comes to fix what is broken in society. It is not only reactive. It is also proactive.
The Torah is meant to guide us, instruct us, help us to improve. The main theological message of the Torah seems to be that things are going to get better: we can improve. This is the opposite of cynicism. It is supremely optimistic.
To remind ourselves of this optimism, we say a special blessing before we read from the Torah: baruch ata H’ hamilamed torah l’amo yisrael: We praise God for being a teacher, while expressing gratitude for the Torah itself…the Teacher’s ‘instruction manual’ for an individual’s life and for the life of society (and humanity) as a whole: the law.
When we look out at the world, may we not cynically see only society’s ills and lawlessness, but may we learn, too, to see our world as a place of law and hope. As we examine our ways in preparation for the New Year, may we come to understand that teshuva – a return to our truest and best selves – is not only possible, but is altogether a turn towards a way of life that we find easier to live, natural to live…. a way of goodness, caring, kindness, compassion, and good deeds; a way of life in which ‘we become the change we want to see in the world.’
Cain yehi ratzon!
SHABBAT SHALOM!
Rabbi Michael