Topics in this digest: Shoftim 5764
by Rabbi Dr. Barry Leff
18. Judges and officers shall you appoint in all your gates, which the
Lord your God gives you, throughout your tribes; and they shall judge the
people with just judgment.
19. You shall not pervert judgment; you shall not respect persons, nor
take a bribe; for a bribe blinds the eyes of the wise, and perverts the
words of the righteous.
20. Justice, only justice shall you pursue, that you may live, and inherit
the land which the Lord your God gives you.
US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has words from this week’s
Torah portion, Shoftim, on the walls of her chambers: “Justice, justice,
shalt thou pursue (Deuteronomy 16:18).” In an essay she wrote entitled
“What Being Jewish Means to Me,” Justice Ginsburg describes her Jewish
predecessors on the court as using “law as protector of the oppressed, the
poor, the minority, the loner.” Values which come from taking seriously
that quote from Torah that she has on her wall-- “tzedek, tzedek tirdof,
Justice, justice you shall pursue.”
Our pursuit of justice begins with the appointment of judges. The opening
words of our parsha commands us “Shoftim v’shotrim, Judges and officers
you shall appoint for yourselves in all your gates, which the Lord your
God gives you, throughout your tribes; and they shall judge the people
with just judgment.”
We usually think of this verse in its pshat, plain sense, as in appointing
dedicated jurists like Ruth Bader Ginsburg to be judges. But there’s more
to the story. This week’s parsha, Shoftim, is always read on the first
Shabbat in the month of Elul—the month leading up to Rosh Hashanah.
Elul is a special time of year. It marks the beginning of the High
Holiday season. Every day (except Shabbat) between now and Rosh Hashanah
we blow the shofar at morning minyan. We blow the shofar as a wake up
call, as a reminder, that we need to get ready for the serious business of
the Day of Judgment, Rosh Hashanah, which is coming soon.
Rabbi Alan Lew, in his wonderful book “This is Real and You Are Completely
Unprepared,” which I highly recommend, gives a powerful description of
Elul which I will share: “Suddenly you are awakened by a strange noise, a
noise that fills the full field of your consciousness and then splits into
several jagged strands, shattering that field, shaking you awake. The
ram’s horn, the shofar, the same instrument that will sound one hundred
times on Rosh Hashanah, the same sound that filled the world when the
Torah was spoken into being on Mount Sinai, is being blown to call you to
wakefulness. You awake to confusion. Where are you? Who are you?
“Then you remember. In exactly one month, one revolution of the moon, you
will stand before God. What will God see on that day? What will you see?
This encounter can carry you significantly closer to the truth of your
life. Standing in the light of God, you can see a great deal more than
you ordinarily might, but only to the degree that you are already awake,
only in proportion to the time and energy you have devoted to preparing
for this encounter.
“So it is that Mateh Moshe proclaimed, ‘every person must prepare himself
for thirty days beforehand with repentance and prayer and charity for the
day when he will appear in judgment before God on Rosh Hashanah.
Therefore let every person scrutinize their actions with a view to mending
them. Let them exclude themselves for one hour every day and examine
themselves.’” The rabbis tell us that during this time of year we should
spend less time in study and more time in introspection and
self-evaluation.
So what is the significance to having this parsha with its instruction to
appoint judges being read early in Elul? The language in the Torah says
shoftim v’shotrim titein lcha, appoint FOR YOURSELVES judges and officers.
During the month of Elul we need to appoint “judges” to examine
OURSELVES.
If you experience Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur passively—if all you do is
come to shul and recite the prayers—you are not going to get much
spiritual benefit out of the holidays. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are
only two parts of a process that really starts now, during the month of
Elul. We need to appoint judges over ourselves—we need to start examining
our deeds, considering where we have fallen short, looking for places
where we can make improvement. A process the traditions calls cheshbon
hanefesh, an accounting of the soul.
The Ishbitzer rebbe said in Mei Hashloach that when this week’s Torah
portion says to appoint judges and officers for yourselves in all of your
gates, the gates being referred to are the seven gates of the soul by
which a man receives good—two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, and a mouth.
Other commentators say the gates are the five senses. The Ishbitzer is
calling on us to increase our consciousness, to be more aware of what’s
going on around us—not just what’s outside, but most especially what’s
inside the “gates.”
The philosopher Gurdjieff pointed out that most people go through their
lives unaware of their internal processes. It’s as if a person is an
airplane flying on autopilot, the captain is sitting in the back asleep.
The first step in taking the controls is to become aware of the
situation—to get in the pilot’s seat and look at the instruments and look
out the window. Only then can you disengage the autopilot and lead your
life to the destination of your choice, instead of the destination of
chance.
The Ishbitzer says we must make a great reckoning for every gate through
which we receive good, and in a place where we influence others we must
make an even greater reckoning.
This is a time to consider not just our own actions, but how our actions
have influenced others. If we have done wrong to other people, if we have
caused hurt to others, whether intentionally or unintentionally, this is
the time to reflect on those shortcomings and seek ways to fix any damage
we might have done. For on Rosh Hashanah, the tradition says that God is
our judge—we are standing in the light of God—but if that judgment is to
be real for us in any kind of spiritual sense, we need to make the
accounting ourselves. We have to prepare for the encounter.
It’s not easy to judge yourself. The famous line mentioned earlier in
this week’s parsha, tzedek tzedek tirdof, justice, justice you shall
pursue, can also be understood on more than one level. Targum Onkelos, an
Aramaic translation of the Torah, translates the phrase as kushta kushta
t’hi radif, which we would render as “truth, truth, you shall pursue.”
The Slonimer rebbe explores the question of the repetition of “truth.”
Isn’t there only one truth? His explanation is that while there may only
be one truth, there are different levels of our understanding of truth.
There is a level of understanding where we know the truth in our heads, in
our minds; and there is another higher level of understanding the truth
which comes from a point in our hearts.
What makes the process of cheshbon hanefesh difficult is that our minds
can be led astray by half-truths. We can be very good telling ourselves
something that is true—but maybe not the whole truth. For example, you
might tell yourself you didn’t intend to hurt someone’s feelings—which
might be true—while ignoring that you didn’t do anything to take care to
avoid accidentally hurting someone. Like someone who got in a car
accident and injured someone while they were trying to drive and dial a
number on the cell phone telling themselves that it was an accident, which
is true, without considering that their behavior might have been the
reason the accident happened, which is also true.
When our head tells us those partial truths however, if we look closely,
in our kishkes, in our guts, we’ll usually know there’s more to the truth.
Which is another part of the idea behind the repetition of “truth.” Once
you have the first level of truth, a truth you know in your head, pursue
the second level of truth, the truth that you know in your heart to be
right. When there are no doubts, when your head and your heart are in
synch, you will probably have found the real truth.
A piece of practical advice for Elul: the best way to engage in cheshbon
hanefesh, in taking stock, in doing the accounting of your soul, in
getting ready for Rosh Hashanah, is to keep a journal. Not a journal
where you record “I woke up. I took the kids to school. I went out for
coffee,” but a journal where you pay attention especially to your
interactions with other people—and also your interactions with God—and
take note of the good and the bad. Were you kind? Were you
short-tempered? Did you go out of your way to do another mitzvah? Or are
you just doing the same old thing, on autopilot?
This is also a great time of year to make a point of coming to the weekday
morning minyan. Every day between now and Rosh Hashanah we blow the
shofar at morning minyan—come and get your “wake up call.”
The wake up call is a reminder that the time to appoint yourself a judge,
and judge yourself, the time take an accounting and to diligently pursue
the truth, is now. The story is told of R. Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev,
that he was standing by his window one year at the beginning of Elul. A
Gentile cobbler passed by and asked him “and have you nothing to mend?”
At once the great rabbi sat down on the ground and cried bitterly, “Woe is
me, and alas my soul, for the Day of Judgment is almost here, and I have
still not mended myself!”