Strength In Vulnerability

 At the end of this morning’s Parsha, Ki Teitzei, the Torah encourages us to remember a time in our national history during which we were vulnerable, and directs us in how to channel those feelings.

In the seventh aliyah, The Torah states: Vezacharta Ki Eved Hayita B’Mitzrayim:

Remember the suffering and vulnerability that you felt, and that you may continue to feel due to your experiences in Egypt. One possible response to vulnerability is to sublimate those feelings into an attitude of indifference and callousness. One who had been a slave in Egypt might say to him/herself, “when I was vulnerable in Egypt, no one helped me but Hashem. Now that I am self-sufficient let everyone take care of him/ herself.”

For this reason, the Torah commands us to be extra vigilant not to pervert justice in cases that involve the Ger Yatom or Almanah; the stranger, orphan and widow.

There is a relationship between feeling vulnerable and feelings of love and connection towards others. The more vulnerable we are willing to be, the stronger that relationship can grow. To fully connect we have to take risks- the risk of exposing who we really are and the risk of facing rejection. Taking those risks will increase our feeling of connectedness. Perhaps that is what the Torah is telling us by the Stranger Orphan and Widow: We should tap into our feelings of vulnerability because by doing so we will be more inclined to empathize with their situation, connect with them, and provide for them. I believe there’s a kal v’chomer at work here: if remembering our vulnerabilities can help deepen our bond with those whom we don’t know well, how much more so can it strengthen our connection to loved ones and those familiar to us.

There is a tradition that Elul is an acronym for various themes that should serve as mantras and tasks for the month leading into the High Holidays. One such acronym that many are familiar with is Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li (“I am for my beloved, and my beloved is for me”). Elul is a time to appreciate and reenergize our relationships with family, with friends and with Hashem. A lesser known acronym is based on the verse in Parshat Mishpatim (21:13). Concerning the accidental murderer who did not plan on murdering, the verse states: Ina L’yado Vsamti Lecha (makom) “God brought [it] about into his hand, I will make a place for you (to which he shall flee.)”

Hashem orchestrated a scenario in which this person is involved in an accidental killing. So it is Hashem who has also provided a place for him to go: the Ir Miklat, City of Refuge. Now, the words may form an acronym for Elul- but how does it relate to the theme of the month?

An accidental murderer must feel confused guilty and, yes, vulnerable. There is a Goel Hadam (blood avenger) after him and the death wasn’t even his fault. Elul is the time to tap into those feelings of vulnerability to allow us to question long held assumptions, see things in a new light, and deepen our connections to Hashem and to each oth

צֶ֥דֶק צֶ֖דֶק תִּרְדֹּ֑ף: Righteousness, Righteousness, Shall You Pursue

 The repetition of the word “Tzedek” in this verse from Parshat Shoftim has been the subject of much discussion and commentary. Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa famously explained this verse to mean that righteousness must not only be an ends, it must also be the means. We may not utilize unjust methods, even in the interests of a just cause. Many people focus exclusively on outcomes and the “bottom line”. However this is not a correct approach to life. Ethical living mandates that we consider the process and not just the outcome. Rabbi Chami Shmulewitz learns this lesson from the episode in Parshat Shemini. Moshe at first criticized Aharon in his role as Kohen Gadol for burning a sacrifice against Moshe’s instructions. Aharon countered that perhaps Moshe had misunderstood the Divine commandment. Ultimately Moshe admits that he had made a mistake; Moshe was wrong and Aharon was right. Rabbi Shmulewitz notes that Moshe was faced with a dilemma. If Moshe admitted that he had a mistake, it could jeopardize people’s belief in the veracity and authenticity of the entire Torah. If Moshe admitted making a mistake, people could ask: What else did Moshe forget? In what other ways did Moshe corrupt the Divine commandments? From this perspective we could understand why Moshe might gloss over his mistake, or even argue that he made no mistake at all. Instead Moshe understood that his only responsibility was to tell the truth; even if it put him in a negative light, even if it could jeopardize the way people viewed Torah more generally.

The Talmud teaches that in a capital case, if all 71 judges of the Sanhedrin find the defendant guilty, then the defendant is let go. The rationale is that the cross-examination of eye witnesses for a capital case was so meticulous that there was bound to be a discrepancy between the testimonies of the two witnesses, and this discrepancy would be grounds for an acquittal. (This is another reason why the death penalty was considered exceedingly rare by the Talmud). If the testimonies were exactly the same such as all 71 judges voted guilty, then that would be considered suspicious enough to acquit as well. What happens if a capital case comes before the Sanhedrin. The first 70 judges declare the defendant guilty. The 71^st judge also thinks that the defendant is guilty. If the last judge votes guilty- then the defendant will go free. If the 71^st judge votes not guilty- then the defendant will receive capital punishment (as the last judge believes the defendant deserves), but in order to receive that punishment, the last judge has to lie and say “non guilty” so that the Sanhedrin’s decision is not unanimous. The Ohr Hachayim says that the 71^st judge must vote his opinion and say “not guilty” even though the outcome of his saying the truth will be the opposite of what he wants for the defendant. The Ohr Hachaim explains that this is an example of pursuing righteousness in a righteous fashion.  A person is obligate to speak the truth as s/he sees it, rather than considering the outcomes or results. The process lies in human hands. Results are up to God. Let’s make sure that we pursue our goals in a righteous fashion.