from the teachings of the Rebbe on the Torah portion
In last week's Torah portion, we learned about the Revelation on Mount Sinai. This week, in Mishpatim, the text begins by delineating some of the many practical laws which the Torah contains. The first subject dealt with is, "If you buy a Hebrew servant." This pertains to a Jew who was sold into servitude by the courts in order to make restitution for stealing, or one who sells himself due to his great poverty.
At first glance, it seems odd that the Torah would begin with this subject first. After all, in the generation of Jews who left Egypt, there were no Hebrew servants! The Children of Israel were all very wealthy, having received many gifts of gold and silver from the Egyptians before they left, and from the great riches they plucked as they passed through the Red Sea. There were no poor people who had to sell themselves into slavery. And even if there were those who succumbed to the prohibition "Thou shalt not covet" and actually stole something, they were all sufficiently wealthy to be able to pay back the rightful owner twice, or however many times the value of the stolen object, as prescribed by Torah law. Why then does the Torah choose precisely this subject to begin the portion dealing with practical commandments, those governing man's relationship with his fellow man--the laws of offerings, festivals and the like?
The section on the Hebrew servant, more than any other commandment, illustrates the effect the Revelation on Mount Sinai had on this world. With this mitzva, more so than with others, we see a direct cause and effect between the sin and its punishment. If a Hebrew slave does not desire to be freed after six years of servitude, his punishment is "and his master should bore his ear through with an awl."
The commentator Rashi explains that this ear, which heard the prohibition uttered on Mount Sinai against stealing and committed thievery anyway, deserves to be bored through. This ear, which heard G-d declare that the Jewish people are His servants alone--yet wants to remain a slave to a human master--deserves to be pierced.
In many instances of Torah law, we do not find such a direct cause and effect between a wrongdoing and its rectification. For example, the Torah promises that the reward for honoring one's parents is longevity, but we don't always perceive this connection. Similarly, punishments may also seem to have little connection to the sin committed. However, the penalty for a Hebrew slave who refuses to be set free is one instance in which the punishment is an obvious consequence of the actions.
When the Torah was given it enabled the spiritual and physical world to influence each other. Prior to that time, the spiritual and material were sealed off from one another--each realm remained isolated and distinct. The Hebrew slave is an example to illustrate this innovation, for his spiritual defect found a physical expression, one which could be seen by all. Furthermore, Chasidic philosophy explains that the Hebrew bondsman also symbolizes man's obligation to subjugate his baser instincts and desires in the service of G-d. After the Revelation, the road to spirituality is paved by our properly utilizing physical reality in the service of holiness.
Adapted from the works of the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
By Rabbi Yossy Goldman
There is a line in this week's parshah concerning the Jewish bondsman. Im b'gapo yavo, alone, he goes out alone. If he entered his period of service unmarried, he must leave unmarried and his master may not exploit him to father children who would be born into servitude. But this Torah phrase has become a traditional way of expressing one of life's basic home truths, i.e. no deposit, no return.
Whether in business, relationships, or in raising our children, the principle holds true. In the words of the Psalmist, "Those who sow in tears will reap in joy."
There is the story of Shmerel, a poor man who once walked by the home of the richest man in the shtetl and smelled the wealthy man’s favorite dish, cheese blintzes. When he comes home, he begs his good wife, Chasha, to make him some cheese blintzes. "Chasha," she says, "I’d love to make you blintzes, Shmerel, but I have no cheese." "Nu, my dear, so make it without the cheese." "But we’ve got no eggs either." "Chasha," says Shmerel, "you are a woman of great ingenuity. I'm sure you can make a plan." So Chasha sets out to do the very best she can under the circumstances. Her work done, she sets the plate before her husband. Shmerel takes one taste, crooks his nose and says, "You know Chasha, for the life of me, I cannot understand what this is, but it certainly isn’t cheese blintzes."
Clearly, you cannot make good blintzes without the right ingredients. Just as clearly, we cannot have nachas from our children without putting in the necessary ingredients of a good Jewish education, a solid upbringing at home, quality family time, and above all, by setting a good example.
Too many parents assume that nachas is a democratic right, almost a genetic certainty. If parents are good people and committed Jews, then surely their children will turn out the same. But there are no such guarantees.
As Rabbi Sholom Ber of Lubavitch said, "Just as it is a Biblical commandment to put on tefillin every day, so it is obligatory to spend a half hour daily thinking about our children and to do whatever possible to ensure that they follow the path in which they are being guided."
So don't be a dreamer. Put in the effort and you will see the rewards. Whether it’s our work or our children, may we be blessed to see the fruits of our labor.
