Dear TBZ Community,
I have spent the week surrounded by beautiful landscapes and views, in the warmth of the “winter” of Tucson, Arizona (a short vacation with my children, visiting a friend). It’s been a treat for my soul, my body, and my heart. I have never seen so many kinds of cacti or javelinas walking around the neighborhood. Reading a book while gazing at the surrounding mountains, sitting silently in the quiet of the desert in summer clothing, has been interrupted by the painful and difficult news of this week, of this day.
I wonder how it is possible to hold both the beauty and the horrors that surround us. As Israel has received and identified the bodies of Oded Lifshitz, Ariel, and Kfir Bibas, who were brutally murdered in captivity , my heart cries. (As I update my message, news has been announced that the body handed over by Hamas is not that of the mother of Ariel and Kfir, Shiri Bibas, and we still await her return and to know about her fate). Oded was 85 years old, an elderly man; Ariel and Kfir were the youngest children taken into captivity. It is horrific to know that there are people who took these individuals, these vulnerable, beautiful, and sweet young humans, into captivity. And it is unbearable to hold the pain of not knowing Shiri’s fate yet. There are no words that I can write that would make any sense.
Last September, Maayan Snapir, granddaughter of Oded Lifshitz, spoke at TBZ. She spoke powerfully about her grandfather and his vision of peace, her own belief that there is good in the world, and her insistence that we don’t give up. Last November, she sent me a note as we marked 400 days since October 7th, sending a “big loving hug” to our community. “I know,” she wrote, “we’re changing the world, making it a better place, even though it takes time and is sometimes hard to see. But people like your community allow this change to happen.” As I read back her words, I am reminded of Maayan’s beautiful soul and trust in a world where there is good and beauty, in the midst of the worst. (I have written to Maayan and offered any support from our community.)
Margaret Renkl, in an op-ed in the New York Times (you can read it here with a gift article) called “Tenderness as an Act of Resistance,” writes about this moment of despair in our country and the fury we may feel, day after day, sometimes hour after hour. But Renkl reminds us to not let fury be our only guide: “But in these days of fury, I am also trying to keep my own heart soft… and let it be broken. I am trying to set anger aside and give myself over to the simplicity of grief.”
She quotes internationally renowned children’s author Kate DiCamillo, who she asked about letting herself be heartbroken without becoming broken forever. DiCamillo’s answer offers a way to hold both the horror and the beauty:
“I fall into the mineshaft of despair over and over again, and over and over again something (the moon, an eagle, the snow) or someone (a kid who tells me that Despereaux makes them feel brave, a stranger who looks me in the eye and smiles, a grandparent who tells me about reading aloud to their grandchild) will reach down to pull me out,” she wrote. “I’ve learned to not resist these handholds. I’ve learned to let the beauty of the world and the bravery of other people pull me up and out of the despair.”
And I turn to prayer.
Rabbi Ebn Leader (Ebn, my spouse) wrote a prayer this past week for Interfaith America. I share with you just a couple of paragraphs, but I invite you to read the full prayer and perhaps find your own spiritual practice that can help you face the adversity of our time.
Ebn writes:
Ribbono Shel Olam [Master of Eternity], even when I turn away from You, please, do not leave me alone. When I struggle to put my trust in human beings, help me put my trust in You.
Help me trust that You do Your work through human beings, even when they are broken, even when they are overwhelmed, even when they are scared, angry, and arrogant, even when they cross over into evil, even when they are not worthy.
Help me do the right thing. Help me be present for those who love me and for those whom I love. Help me be there for my children.
Ribbono Shel Olam, please, keep an eye out for my children.
Please keep an eye out for all the children, especially those who have lost their parents, those who have lost their homes, those who are sleeping outside tonight, those who do not know where they will sleep tomorrow night, those who are hungry, and those who can no longer trust that their parents will not be suddenly taken away from them.
Please keep an eye on the child that is within each one of us. Please, be there for Your children.
Please cry with me, and please, let me cry with You.
And then we turn to Torah.
This week we read Parshat Mishpatim, a Torah portion with one of the most concrete and direct messages about how to shape a just and equitable society. Sefer HaChinuch (“Book of Education”) lists 53 commandments, 23 positive and 30 negative, in this parasha (portion), most are mitzvot bein adam lechavero (commandments between a person and another person). We learn about building a functional society that is fair and just, as well as a system of accountability. Examples include: not to afflict any orphan or widow (Exodus 22:21); to lend to the poor and destitute (Exodus 22:24); not to press someone for payment if you know they don’t have it (Exodus 22:27); judges must not accept testimony unless both parties are present (Exodus 23:1); and judges must not accept bribes (Exodus 23:8).
So much of our text and tradition focuses on laws for building a fair society, one that limits power and fosters equality and justice for all. Recognizing that human beings tend to forget that power can make us blind to the needs of our neighbor, everything is outlined clearly, reminding us to do what is right. Building a functional system that is fair and just, with built-in accountability safeguards, is what the Torah teaches.
What makes this even more powerful is that we are still in the setting of last week’s parasha, at Mount Sinai, where we received the Ten Commandments, where the people of Israel experienced God’s revelation with fire, clouds, and silence. It is only after this long list of apparently mundane laws are received in this week’s parasha that we conclude the Sinai experience. We read at the end of Parshat Mishpatim:
וַיַּעַל מֹשֶׁה אֶל־הָהָר וַיְכַס הֶעָנָן אֶת־הָהָר. וַיִּשְׁכֹּן כְּבוֹד־יְהֹוָה עַל־הַר סִינַי וַיְכַסֵּהוּ הֶעָנָן שֵׁשֶׁת יָמִים וַיִּקְרָא אֶל־מֹשֶׁה בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי מִתּוֹךְ הֶעָנָן. וּמַרְאֵה כְּבוֹד יְהֹוָה כְּאֵשׁ אֹכֶלֶת בְּרֹאשׁ הָהָר לְעֵינֵי בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל. וַיָּבֹא מֹשֶׁה בְּתוֹךְ הֶעָנָן וַיַּעַל אֶל־הָהָר וַיְהִי מֹשֶׁה בָּהָר אַרְבָּעִים יוֹם וְאַרְבָּעים לָיְלָה.
When Moses had ascended the mountain, the cloud covered the mountain. The Presence of the LORD abode on Mount Sinai, and the cloud hid it for six days. On the seventh day, God called to Moses from the midst of the cloud. Now the Presence of the LORD appeared in the sight of the Israelites as a consuming fire on the top of the mountain. Moses went inside the cloud and ascended the mountain; and Moses remained on the mountain forty days and forty nights (Exodus 24:15-18).
Parshat Mishpatim is an intrinsic part of the Sinai revelation of God to God’s people.
Many of the laws that we read this week are further learned, discussed, and explained in the Seder (Order) of Nezikin (Damages) in the Mishnah and Talmud. Nezikin deals largely with Jewish criminal and civil law and the Jewish court system.
In Bava Kamma (one of the tractates of Nezikin), Rabbi Yehudah asks what makes a person a pious one (chasid):
אמר רב יהודה האי מאן דבעי למהוי חסידא לקיים מילי דנזיקין
Rav Yehuda says: One who wants to be pious should observe the matters of Nezikin (Bava Kamma 30a)
A chasid, a pious person (which is different from how we use the word today, referring to a specific group of people in the Jewish community), explains Rav Yehuda, is someone who observes, learns, and pays attention to the teachings of Nezikin, of our tradition’s teachings about how we deal with the ways we act in the world in the most concrete and tangible situations. What do we do when we unintentionally or intentionally damage the property or the animal of our neighbor? What if we break something that doesn’t belong to us? What does Torah have to say when we don’t pay wages on time, or when we take advantage of the most needy in our society? What kind of systems (mundane systems) must we have in place in order to build a society that is functional, fair, and just? A pious person, or perhaps in the language I would use, a religious or spiritual person, is one who concerns themselves with the mundane and who recognizes that the sacred and the mundane do not exist in different realms. Our tradition calls on us to build a just society, a fair society, one that sees the dignity of all human beings and does not put power over people.
We concern ourselves with the mundane and the sacred, we hold both the horror and the beauty, and I find myself praying and hoping:
In these shadowed moments of despair, when horror weighs heavy upon our hearts, we are called to remember that we do not surrender the sacred duty of Torah—to build a just society, for all.
In the stillness, we turn to prayer, to God, and to one another, seeking the strength to journey forward, step by fragile step.
And we open our eyes to the beauty that still surrounds us, even in the darkest of times.
With hearts bruised yet unyielding, we continue to see the light, and in its glow, we find the courage to build a better world.
May the memories of baby Kfir, Ariel, and Oded be of blessing and may we work for a world that does not allow these and any other horrors to continue.
May the Bibas and Lifshitz families find some comfort and feel the love we send their way.
May this Shabbat bring us peace, strength, and clarity. May we find the courage to forgive, heal, and move forward together, knowing that we do not walk this journey alone.
May God grant blessings and comfort to all of us and our loved ones. May we discover strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts generously. May those who are ill find healing.
May all the hostages soon return to their families and friends; may peace prevail, and may our leaders prioritize life. May those working for peace be granted strength and courage to continue their sacred work, and may we soon witness peace and dignity for all.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rav Claudia