The Wisdom of Teshuva (Rosh Hashana)

One of the common discussions before the yamim norayim is why we celebrate Rosh Hashana before Yom Kippur. Why do we start talking about teshuva, repentance, before asking for forgiveness? Why do we exalt the glory of Avinu Malkeinu before we have received His merciful forgiveness?

As there are many of shiurim on this topic, there are many answers and explanations. Here is just a simple thought:

The daily Amidah is composed of praise, request, and gratitude. The second section, request, begins with a prayer for knowledge and understanding. The next blessing asks Hashem to cause us to return to Him in complete teshuva. The third blessing beseeches God for forgiveness. Every single day we ask Hashem to help us do teshuva and then we ask Him to forgive our transgressions, just as we do during the aseres yamei teshuva.

Perhaps this is a nod to human nature and our fear of asking for forgiveness, which is admitting to a doing something wrong, without some sense of assurance that our atonement will be accepted. It is why people tend to word apologies so carefully – to ask forgiveness without making one’s self small. If we have begun the process of teshuva, we can believe that we are in a “safe zone” to come clean with our mistakes.

Perhaps, though, there is significance to the fact that in the daily prayers we first ask Hashem to grant us knowledge and understanding. People generally assume that they are smart, at least on some level. Our passage through the world is filled with challenges; frequently these challenges arise or are made more complex because we assume that we understand the world and that we know what needs to happen. But humans, by nature, cannot see the Big Picture. We don’t really understand how our individual paths affect the greater scheme of things.

How can we gain better knowledge and understanding? By getting closer to the Divine, by letting go of our assumptions of control and global understanding. We accomplish this increase in daas by doing teshuva and drawing closer to Hashem, recognizing Him as the One in ultimate control of everything. Then, with God’s help, we have a revised frame with which to look at our actions more clearly. With this sharpened perception, we are then able to begin to atone honestly.

Rosh Hashana is imminently upon us. For myself I can only pray that Hashem helps me have the mental focus to put my all into my teshuva so that I can continue to grow in my own avodah. Wishing you all a Shana Tova U’Metuka.

What is in Your Heart (Nitzavim #2)

The parsha of Nitzavim is always read in the weeks just before Rosh Hashana, before the time of year when the Jewish people have a focus on teshuva. It is a parsha that has many connections to the process of teshuva, most particularly because while there is a reiteration of the dire consequences from the Jewish people turning away from God’s Torah, there is also a powerful promise of Hashem’s acceptance of our return.

Each year at this time we are, rightly, flooded with shiurim and shared thoughts on the importance of teshuva. Some of these are frightening (in a good way), some of them are notably inspirational, and some seem to carry messages that are familiar just for how often they are repeated. These are all meant to power us into action because teshuva, real teshuva, is incredibly hard. Knowing this, most of us would honestly assess ourselves as being beinonim, the middling sheep who are eager to be counted among the whole lest our individual aveiros weigh us down.

So why listen to these shiurim if one is self-aware enough to understand that proper, full teshuva is the goal we strive for even if we can’t attain it completely? Because, as is often the case in Jewish life, intention, or perhaps here mind-frame, has an immense influence on outcome. The very fact that one wants to do teshuva raises their neshama, and each time one hears a shiur, reads an essay, or even looks at an inspirational meme, one’s neshama is moved with a desire to succeed in the process of teshuva.

What does this have to do with parshat Nitzavim? In the third aliya of the parsha there is a fascinating trio of verses:

Lest there should be among you man or woman, or family or tribe, that his heart is turned this day from being with the Lord our God, to go to serve the gods of those nations; lest there be among you a root that bears gall and wormwood. And it will be in hearing these words [of consequential curses], he will bless himself in his heart, saying, ‘Peace will be for me, though I walk in the stubbornness of my heart – that the watered be swept up with the dry.’ The Lord will not be willing to pardon him… (Devarim 29:17-19).

These verses are fascinating, if for no other reason than the inclusion of gall and wormwood … the watered and the dry. These verses are, in fact, quite frightening from a 21^st century perspective, for some commentators point out that this is referring those who believe that they will be favored by God simply for being a Jew even when they reject the Torah and many of us wrestle so hard today with the influence of secular thought on our emunah and bitachon.

Reading the commentaries on these verses is actually terrifying, at least for me! The Ksav Sofer writes: “There are people who violate the laws of the Torah, and then, to assuage their conscience, say, ‘But I am a Jew at heart!’ The Torah addresses these people when it says ‘…he will rationalize and say’ or literally, ‘…he will bless himself in his heart,’ meaning , he will boast of his ‘good Jewish heart,’ and say, ‘I will have peace, even if I do as I see fit.’”  Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch who notes that this person “only goes in the paths, which are ratified, not by God, but by his own heart.”

Ibn Ezra notes: “The meaning is: ‘all will be well with me, even though I follow the evil impulses of my heart, because I will survive through the merit of the righteous; they are many, whereas I am just a single sinner.’” This commentary is particularly interesting in reflection to the frequently discussed importance of davening with a minyan during the yomim norayim so that the tefilos of the individual benoinim can merge together and no one will be specifically singled out as falling short of being deserving of forgiveness.

A few weeks ago, the parsha discussed the issue of a bein sorer umorer, a rebellious son, and many of the commentaries focus on how an actual case of a bein sorer umorer is impossible. Similarly, an actual true to fact apikorsis is rare because to be an apikorsis one must be a person who has studied Torah and Jewish law extensively, someone who understands Jewish law (halacha) and philosophy but, nevertheless, denies prophecy ever existed, denies Moses’ status as a prophet, and says that God has no knowledge of or involvement in human activities.

When Devarim 29 discusses this arrogant person who sees no wrong in following solely the ways of his/her heart, it sets fairly specific parameters even in its somewhat enigmatic language. It does not appear to be referring to a person with questions, hesitancies, or even moments of contrariness …. all of which are normal and are often referred to as weapons of the yetzer harah. Rather it refers to a person who takes a very specific line of thought – and probably a style of living as well – that leads to a corruption of the ideals of Jewish living.

These verses serve as a warning about being aware of our underlying motivation and working on our comprehension of the true importance of observing the mitzvot. As we head into Rosh Hashana, the day on which we proclaim and revel in God’s kingship, parshas Nitzavim offers a striking reminder that being avdei Hashem we do not “walk in the stubbornness of [our] hearts,” but rather accept the yoke of the Torah even in the quietness of our hearts.

The Curse of Fame (Ki Tavo #1)

For the Jewish people, fame is a curse. It sounds like a cliché, but let’s ignore the usual speculation about how difficult it is to be a celebrity. This isn’t just about the status of those who have succeeded in the arts or politics. Fame is a curse, not for an individual necessarily, but for our people as a whole. The proof is in the Torah: “And you will become an astonishment, an example, and a topic of discussion among all the peoples to whom the Lord will lead you” (Devarim 28:37).

Taken out of context, this might sound like a positive thing. The famous Jewish businessman who went from rags to riches is a success story, isn’t he? That depends on what he does with his success. One could look at the quintessential Jewish success story, Mayer Amshel Rothschild. He not only built an international banking empire, but he and his sons were well-known for their generosity and involvement in the community. Some of the Rothschild descendants made their own marks in the history of the Jewish people through their philanthropy, their political activism, and even their piety. They took their wealth and their name and they used it for good. Alas, as time passed, the power and fame of the family drew some away from the traditions of their people and Rothschilds married into other wealthy but non-Jewish families.

The Rothschilds, however, are an excellent example of how fame may be positive for an individual, even for a family, but less so, in the long term, for our nation as a whole. Among the enemies of our people, the ones keen to spread insidious lies, Rothschild is a code name for Jews running the world and for a cabal of financiers undermining nations.

Put into context, Devarim 28:37 is part of a larger structure:

The Lord will drive you, and the king you have set over you, to a nation unknown to you or your fathers, where you shall serve other gods, of wood and stone. And you will become an astonishment, an example, and a topic of discussion among all the peoples to whom the Lord will lead you. Though you take much seed out to the field, you shall gather in little, for the locust shall consume it. Though you plant vineyards and till them, you shall have no wine to drink or store, for the worm shall devour them. Though you have olive trees throughout your territory, you shall have no oil for anointment, for your olives shall drop off. Though you beget sons and daughters, they shall not remain with you, for they shall go into captivity (36-37).  

All of this is after the Promised Land has failed us because we failed our promise. This is a section of the parsha that begins at 28:15: “But if you do not obey the Lord your God to observe faithfully all His commandments and laws which I enjoin upon you this day, all these curses shall come upon you and take effect.” First the ruination of dwelling in the Promised Land, then exile and persecution.

Devarim 28:37 on its own could mean several things…all of which have been true. It could mean that the Jewish people became the parable of what happens to people who go astray. Christian leaders throughout the ages have often used this either to uplift their congregants by promising that they will not suffer the same fate, to validate Christianity’s cancellation of the Old Testament, or simply to disparage the Jews. It could be a connected to the fact that many people who have never met a Jew will still have heard of the Jewish people or at least some version of “the Hebrews.” This verse could also be read as a warning not to take fame and notability as a good thing, for such a spotlight on our people is one step in a series of consequences that are really a tragedy for our future, as it says in verse 41: “Though you beget sons and daughters, they shall not remain with you for they shall go into captivity.”

Is this relevant for us today? Afterall, we are already living in gulus (exile).

It is wonderful that Jews have found so many ways to be successful. There are prominent Jewish names in a wide variety of fields and one often hears listings of names of Jews who have received the noble pride….but maybe that prominence isn’t such a good thing. Maybe we need to put our people ahead of our personal ambitions and not be the spokesman on every political forefront (right or left) or the face of the financial world or the promoters of a culture of hedonism or even the leaders of the social activist world.

Maybe we should heed the warnings of the curse and remember that this is not our land and, inevitably, these are not our people – that it is very much within the path of the Torah for our actions to become a topic of discussion.

Looking At Leah

This Dvar Torah was written in honor of my daughter Leah Sharona bas Sarah Rochel, whose Bas Mitzvah is today.

Everyone of the avos and emahos can be a source of inspiration, but I thought it would be nice to take a particular look at Leah Emanu and how she can inspire us at this time of year.

When talking about Elul, we often refer to the idea of the name of the month as an acronym of “Ani Ldodi Vdodi Li. I am to my beloved as my beloved is to me.” While this is an ideal of the relationship we should strive to have with Hashem, these are words that could be used to describe the relationship of Yaakov and Rachel. The same probably could not be said about the marriage of Leah and Yaakov. Theirs was not a “beloved” partnership, but, nevertheless, they had a deep and powerful relationship and Leah is the wife eternally by his side. When trying to understand a path for growth and a path for developing a relationship with Hashem, there is perhaps more to learn from Leah than there is from Rachel.

If I had to make an analogy, perhaps I might say that Rachel was like a flame: beautiful, powerful, alluring, and the source of obvious inspiration. She is the women we all notice who are put together, elegant, inspirational and seemingly perfect – not truly perfect, of course (although that is a hyperbolic adjective often assigned to such women) - but rather someone who always seems to be handling a situation with perfect aplomb and unswerving faith.

Leah, on the other hand, is like the coals in a fire pit. Equally intense but drawing far less attention. Coal gives off heat; it can be used to cook food equal if not better than a roaring flame, but it does not draw one’s notice unless one has a need for it. This is the everyday woman – probably the woman most of us see ourselves as (although I see all of you as Rachels 😊). These are the women with struggles and imperfections not wholly tucked away from public notice, and, equally, with accomplishments and successes that are noticed and shared.

Leah’s desire to love and be loved by Yaakov was, according to Midrashic sources, based on her understanding of Yaakov’s righteousness and the future that would be his descendants’ inheritance. Leah saw the bigger picture, the far-off future, and she wanted to be part of it. Aviva Gottlieb Zornberg shared an interesting thought in her book Genesis: The Beginning of Desire: “’When morning came, there [ve-hine – behold] was Leah!’ (29:25). Rashi comments: But at night she was not Leah. The effect of ve-hine (behold) is to convey a real jolt of perception….[in the middle of the night,] Leah had found in herself the potential to be Rachel.”

Leah had an “aha moment.” She had a taste of the sense of true connection, and henceforth she worked hard to get back to that place. This idea - of hitting a particular spiritual note and thus becoming aware that we can reach that place – is something to which many of us can relate. I remember the davening I experienced on Yom Kippur the year I became observant. It was at Hebrew University. I remember where I slept and the squeak of the chairs in the shul. Most significantly, I remember the incredible sense of connection I felt that year. I am not certain I have ever reached that level again, but the memory forever resonates with me and pushes me to try.

Through the naming of her children, Leah charts her own journey. It begins with her recognition that Hashem really knows she exists.

Leah learned about Hashem from Yaakov living among them for seven years, and she wanted to be part of the incredible people that was to come. But not only was she the product of a different culture (Laban’s house), she also had to overcome the negative perception of her actions. Bereishis Rabbah 71:2 notes that “everyone jeering at her and saying she is not inwardly as she appears on the surface. She appears righteous but is not. If she was righteous, she would not have deceived her sister” (Bereishis Rabbah 71:2).

Leah’s quick pregnancy, however, is a sign affirming everything she is working toward, and she names her son Reuven, an acknowledgment that Hashem saw her struggle. Her second son, born shortly thereafter, she names for God having heard her plight. I think that it is important that in this initial stage of her journey to being the right person to be Yaakov’s eternal partner (in machpela) she becomes aware that Hashem is actively in her life – especially as she could easily have viewed all that had occurred as the result of manipulations of her very human father.

The first half of Leah’s journey culminates with the birth of Yehuda, when Leah declares “This time let me gratefully praise Hashem.” This is not a surprising statement. There are an abundance of commentaries around the naming of the tribes and how this was a monumental moment of a person praising Hashem. What is significant to her journey is that once Leah has come to this point - where she can express unfettered gratitude to Hashem - she didn’t grow complacent and rest on her laurels.

There are myriad commentaries on Genesis 30:16, “And Leah went out” (to greet Yaakov and lead him to her tent). But in this context, I think that it is indicative that this is not the Leah of Genesis 29 (Reuven through Yehudah.) This, now, was a woman who was no longer on a purely internal path to connect to Hashem, but rather one who had strength in her conviction that Hashem was ready to bless her and that she was a partner with Hashem in building the Jewish people. This is reflected in the names of Yissachar and Zevulon (God has granted me my reward….God has endowed me with a good endowment).

The Midrash that explains that Leah davened to Hashem that her last pregnancy should be a girl so that her sister could have a share in the shevatim equal, at least, to the handmaids, makes an interesting juxtaposition with the chesed Rachel did for Leah nearly a decade earlier. Their individual acts of chesed for each other are, in some ways, demonstrative of their natures. Rachel represents passion and visible inspiration (even though what she did was in secret, its impact was external), while Leah represents practicality and a mindset for growth (her act had an internal effect). Rachel connects with love and chesed. Leah, on the other hand, connects to the recognition of balance and Divine order – thus Dinah, her daughter, named for din.

The Zohar notes that “Because all of Leah’s deeds were secret, her death is not mentioned in the Torah like Rachel’s death” (1:158a). After the birth of her children, Leah is no longer an active figure in the text of the Torah, but Leah’s path is one to which most of us can relate to and from which we can draw inspiration.

Rachel was beloved, and inherently connected, but Leah had to work. “The King is the field,” as we are so often reminded in Elul, and for some beautiful souls it is easy to seek Him out, to beseech Him and rejoice in His presence. For others, however, it takes work. It takes seeing God in our lives, reminding ourselves that He hears our prayers, feeling that His presence escorts us, and expressing constant gratitude for the gifts He gives. Making the efforts to create that connection (which this group certainly helps me to do) offers us the opportunity to experience the truly beautiful relationship with Hakodesh Baruch Hu that is open to us during the month of Tishrei.

A Wink To Parenting (Ki Tetze #1)

One of the key strengths of Jewish life is the priority placed on having children and raising them properly. The Torah continually emphasizes how important it is to pass our teaching on to our children and to protect our future by protecting our children. Given the Torah’s attitude toward children, the case of the ben sorer umorer has always been both daunting and intriguing.

“If a man has a wayward and defiant son, who does not listen to the voice of his father or the voice of his mother, and they discipline him and he does not obey them, his father and mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the public place of his community. They shall say to the elders of his town ‘This son of ours is disloyal and defiant; he does not heed us. He is a gluten and a drunkard.’ Thereupon the men of this town shall stone him to death” (Devarim 21:18-21).

Can you imagine a world in which parents are allowed to give up on their disrespectful and disobedient children and take them out to be stoned? And yet this is what it seems the Torah is advocating.

The oral law clarifies the situation immensely. Presenting all the factors necessary to declare a ben sorer umorer, the oral law demonstrates how this halacha was basically impossible to enact since the boy must be recently 13, have had a balanced parenting and equal warnings from both parents, and should not have any extraneous issues. The boy must also be a glutton and a drunkard.

If it cannot ever be fulfilled, then what is the point of this mitzvah being written in the Torah? Is it a declaration of the importance of kibbud av v’aim? Is it a warning to the children or a warning to the parents? Could it be a way of reminding parents that it could always be harder?

The importance given to the voice of the father and the voice of the mother, to the equal influence of both parents, led to a thought that perhaps this mitzvah is a subtle reminder from Hakodesh Baruch Hu to the Jewish people that they are answerable to the Ultimate Parent. Time and time again, throughout the journey through the wilderness, Bnei Yisrael turned aside and rebelled. Like senseless, self-centered teens, the Children of Israel complained and disobeyed. More than once, Hashem was ready to be done with this stiff-necked people who were disobedient and gluttonous on the gifts Hashem provided. If one looks carefully at many of the incidents, one finds that Bnei Yisrael already had what they needed, but they wanted something more (such as the situation of the pheasants).

The voice of the father is Elokim, the judging aspect of God. This is din – right and wrong. The voice of the mother is Hashem, the merciful aspect of God. These two aspects of God were, thankfully, never in equal measure against Klal Yisrael – and so we were allowed to live, to grow and develop into our beautiful nation.

God understands that parenting is hard. This is one of the lessons of the ben sorer umorer. Parenting – especially teens – can be so hard that one might wish to wash their hands of the obligation for good. But it will never be that simple. In the subtle message of the ben sorer umorer, we can gain chizuk to continue to help our children grow just as Hashem continued to let Bnei Yisrael thrive into our beautiful nation.

Nations and Respect (Ki Tetze #2)

Within certain Jewish communities one can hear statements such as “a goy is a goy and can’t be expected to behave decently.” This is an attitude that is the result of centuries of anti-Semitic persecution, but, in my opinion, is really kneged Torah since all people are Btzelem Elokim, created in the image of God.

With this thought in mind, let us look at the second section of Devarim 23 particularly interesting. Although negative, it discusses different nations and the reasons why they may or may not join the nation of Israel.

“No Ammonite or Moabite shall be admitted into the congregation of the Lord, none of their descendants none of their descendants, even in the tenth generation, shall ever be admitted into the congregation of the Lord, because they did not meet you with food and water on your journey after you left Egypt, and because they hired Balaam son of Beor, from Pethor of Aram-Naharaim, to curse you.…. You shall never concern yourself with their welfare or benefit as long as you live. You shall not abhor an Edomite, for he is your kinsman. You shall not abhor an Egyptian, for you were a stranger in his land. Children born to them may be admitted into the congregation of the Lord in the third generation” (23:4-5,7-9).

Quite clearly the Torah recognizes the distinct character traits of global humanity – if not by each individual then certainly by nationally-inherited traits. In this regulation, the Torah is revealing something about these individual nations. The Ammonites and the Moabites were distant cousins of the Israelites, descendants of Avraham’s nephew, Lot. Thus when they refused Bnei Yisrael bread and water, it was particularly cruel as the Israelites were not complete foreigners to them but rather Semitic cousins with whom at least the necessities should have been shared.

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch explains the prohibition of Ammonites and Moabites ever entering the assembly of God and the Edomites and Mitzrim only after three generations thus: “The Jewish nation is to build itself up by…guarding feelings of general humaneness and kindness, as well as fostering those of gratitude.”

So how has it become acceptable today to view other nations with such haughty eyes, to acknowledge their humanity with lip service only? Of course, there is the fact of the emotional trauma our people have suffered generation after generation, but that is an external factor for a people who are meant to be continually striving to emulate Hashem. It is a difficult question because many people have trouble acknowledging that there is a problem since, after all, we are “the chosen people.”

This is an opinion piece but being the chosen people does not give us the right to look down on other nations. Rather it gives us the responsibility to show other nations how Hashem wants humankind to be (as Rav Hirsch stated so beautifully) filled with “humaneness and kindness.” Certainly, halacha differentiates how one is to treat Jews and non-Jews, because we are a family. How we treat our family, however, should be a model for how we treat others.

The fact is that this is not just a question of how we act. Every Torah observant Jew understands the significance of thought and intention, the power of the tongue and how talk inevitably is reflected in action. If, in our minds, all of the other nations are lesser, than our actions reflect this belief. With bullying so often in the news, our society is very much aware that the bullies are often those who are hurting inside themselves. A person cannot truly pull themselves up by putting others down, and this is a lesson for Klal Yisrael. We do not become better people by insisting that the other nations are lowly. We become better people by following the Torah and living Jewish lives.

In an era of increasing anti-Semitism, it is natural to draw tighter into ourselves. At the same time, we must remember that to be a “light unto the nations” we must be the type of people who lead the way to being Godly, and this cannot be accomplished with condescension, fear, or loathing in one’s eyes. Hashem made Adam (and Chava) and breathed His life into him. He gave His law, His blueprint, to Bnei Yisrael. Now we must use that blueprint to build the world He intended us to build.

Thoughts on Justice (Shoftim #1)

In the United States, the people who are meant to be the last word of the law are known by the title of Justice. Perhaps the term was chosen to suggest that these select few are capable of defining the law in a way that will create the just society desired by the founding fathers. Today, that premise might well be questioned as each appointment of a new justice is a battle of politics and personal opinion.

The usual translation for justice is the Hebrew word tzedek, an extremely important concept in Judaism and the main focus of the beginning of this week’s parsha, “Shoftim.” Deuteronomy 16 contains the famous verse: “Tzedek, tzedek, tirdof lmaan tichiyeh vyareshta et ha’aretz asher Hashem E-hlokecha notein lach….Justice, justice shall you pursue in order that you shall live and inherit the land that Hashem your God is giving you…” (16:20). Since it is an accepted idea that the Torah contains no unnecessary words, it seems particularly odd to have the word repeated twice. Stranger still is the verse’s placement as the concluding verse of a section specifically commanding the appointment of and the injunction to judges against bribery and bias. After all of the warnings on how not to distort justice, is such an emphatic call for justice really necessary?

First and foremost, according to Rashi and many other commentators, this verse is addressing the litigants. It is an excellent warning that, were it to be heeded more today, would relieve the intense pressure on the court system. Many of the court cases that get brought to litigation are not really about justice. They are about being right, or financial gain, or simply proving that one has the right to litigate. Suing a company because of one’s own stupidity, whether legally permissible or not, is not about pursuing justice.

If asked, most people will find a way to spin their litigation as having wrongs righted, and they are spinning it to themselves as well – often without doing so consciously.

Perhaps there is something to be learned from the connection of the word tzedek, justice, and tzedakah, charity. When a person gives tzedakah they are not supposed to think of how wonderful they are for giving away some of their money. Rather, one should realize that Hashem determines how much money a person will have. By giving tzedakah, one is just transferring money to where it was meant to go. Giving tzedakah is the Divinely given opportunity for each person to help bring balance, completion, and thus peace, to the world. So too, when one seeks justice one should, ideally be seeking balance. If one neighbor moves their property boundary mark, amends must be made and then the neighbors can be in peace with each other.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik had an interesting commentary about the connection of truth and peace and how they effect the pursuit of justice:

…Conciliation between litigants derives from a desire to maintain peace despite the fact that the litigants’ positions are mutually exclusive. There is an aspect of sheker, falsehood, on the part of one who compromises for the sake of peace. Yet, if men exclusively exemplified the attribute of emes, people would be in -existence. constant conflict. Absolute truth precludes peaceful co-existence.

This quote might shed some light on what causes so many to be distressed by the process of choosing Supreme Court justices. While the court has a constant focus on ensuring justice, the current process of appointing justices focuses a great deal more on party affiliation and loyalty, of falling in line with a set of values set by a cohort of politicians rather than on how much they have done to ensure justice. The process highlights neither actual truth nor shalom.

Each side of the political party asserts that they push their specific agendas for the greater good of the country, but, here too, the Torah offers us insight: “What is the meaning of the seemingly redundant use of the word tzedek, justice? With this, the Torah disavows the prevalent attitude: the ends justify the means. The Torah tells us that the method by which you pursue justice must be just and truthful. Pursue justice by means of justice. Don’t use falsehood and deception in order to achieve justice” (Wellsprings of Torah, Rabbi Alexander Zusia Friedman, 1897-1943).

The placement of the pasuk at the conclusion of this section is not by chance. It is a warning to all, litigants and judges, that the characteristics of justice are essential. They are the qualification for the nation to live and stay on the land. And the pasuk that follows, “Do not plant an ashera for yourself…”(16:21) appears to be a completely new topic. However, Reish Lakish notes in Masechet Sanhedrin 7b: “Appointing an unworthy judge is equivalent to planting an ashera tree.” The comparison is that an ashera tree looks like any other tree but it is dedicated for idolatry. It is prohibited even to plant an ashera because an innocent person will not know to chop it down, that it was planted in bad faith. So too, it is important to appoint truly righteous judges because the litigants brought before him will believe that his decisions come from a place of unbiased righteousness.