With that yesod, I’d like to briefly touch on a heavy topic which we may continue with next week as it also relates to the keruvim. How does Hakadosh Baruch Hu look at and examine a person from above? How are they judged? And how does that examination differ from the way an earthly court evaluates and judges a person’s actions? Let’s examine what judgement looks like through the eyes of Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and through our own very simplistic eyes.
Last week’s Parsha closes with the commandment:
Do not go up to My altar with steps, so that your nakedness not be revealed on it.
Rashi elaborates on this Mitzvah using a kal va'chomer (an argument from minor to major). He points out that if we are commanded to show respect even to inanimate objects like stones, which lack feelings, because they serve a useful purpose, then it logically follows that we must be even more careful not to disrespect our fellow humans, as people are created in the image of G-d, possess feelings, and are sensitive to disrespect.
Flip now to our Parsha and the rules for handling a thief. The thief, according to Din Torah, does not sit in jail. Jail is a university for thieves, and throwing a small thief into jail only results in a large thief being released down the road. Their punishment, rather, is to repay double the value of what they stole. If the thief does not have the means to repay such an amount, they are sold as a slave instead. In our generation, someone who steals receives a haircut. If they stole one-million shekel, they’re ordered by the court to return 700,000. Not only that, but there’s a sale – one shekel per day. The court figures there’s no chance they can repay it, so they essentially laugh it off. Laugh it off? Every member of the family should be working overtime until it’s repaid in full! With Hakadosh Baruch Hu, there is no such concept as taking someone else’s property and not returning it. Impossible. If your time expires and you have yet to repay what you owe, you’ll return in another body or form to complete the job!
A story is told of the Ba’al Shem Tov, who visited a major supporter of his and inquired about his livelihood. The host explained that he bought and sold animals. Not only that, but he also rented them out for jobs and boasted of a remarkable horse capable of pulling five times more than any other, which he referred to as his stretch wedding limousine. This horse was his number one breadwinner. The Ba’al Shem Tov blessed him for continued prosperity and then asked if anyone owed him money. The host mentioned several debtors, some of whom had passed away, admitting he hadn't formally forgiven the debts but doesn’t believe they’re collectable. Curious, the Ba’al Shem Tov asked to see the notes detailing these debts and upon examining them, he questioned the host about one particular debtor. “He died five years ago but still owed me a nice sum. What can I do. I landed with the wrong customer.” The Ba’al Shem Tov asked if he could have that note, and the host saw no reason to keep it any longer, so he handed it over. The Ba’al Shem Tov, after confirming the note was now 100% his, tore it into pieces and threw them one by one into the fire. As the final piece hit the flames, an assistant outside yelled in distress; the prize limousine had suddenly collapsed and died! The host, an astute man, realized the obvious connection and sought an explanation from the Rebbe.
The Ba’al Shem Tov revealed that the limo-horse was in fact the soul of the debtor who had returned in a gilgul – a different form, to work off his debt. By calculating the animal's earnings against what was owed, it was clear that the required sum had already been repaid long ago, but the debt remained open and on paper. With the note destroyed, it was officially cleared, and the soul was free to ascend to Gan Eden. The Ba’al Shem Tov then imparted a lesson to his host, “Do not think for a second you inherited a special stretch limousine so you can work it and maximize profits. That is the soul of someone trying to repay their debts.”
The lesson is, anyone who does not want to be a donkey, or a horse acting like a limousine, pay your debts! The bumper you dented slightly while backing into a tight parking spot isn’t something to shrug off, nor something to assume the owner doesn’t care about. Nor are you to worry the owner will also try to pin three other dents on you. Get out of your car and settle it properly, with integrity and honesty!
It is a wonderful thing that many organizations exist today called נְקִ י כַפַּיִם – clean and pure hands. On Erev Yom Kippur, people give to these organizations, setting aside money dedicated to repaying debts to those they might unknowingly owe or cannot find to repay. This includes compensating the four taxi drivers you held up while looking for a phone number and then talking in the car while parked at a green light, all while preventing them from reaching their next fares. You don’t know even know who you owe or how much you owe. This money is set aside until Eliyahu HaNavi arrives and helps the funds find their rightful owner as repayment.
Back in our Parsha, the Torah addresses the laws of gezel, starting with the concept of an Eved Ivri – to highlight the severity of stealing. Often, we rationalize our actions, convincing ourselves that minor acts, like sampling a few nuts or grapes in a store with the intent to purchase, are harmless. Stealing also extends beyond physical items to include taking others' time, along with many other forms. Despite the myriad excuses we drum up, the Torah underscores the gravity of all forms of gezel.
