It's the Grown-up Thing to Do.

Parashat Ki Tetze 5770

             

Having young children in your home at times feels like being the anthropologist living among warring tribes of ruthless Ya̧nomamö warriors.  Take my two year-old twins (please).  I like to observe Hannah and Micah when they don’t think I’m watching.  It’s interesting to see how they figure out problems together (like how to help each other climb up a book shelf) or how they are learning to share and take turns.  But, they are two years old and it usually doesn’t take long before the harmonious little society they’ve created in the living room breaks down.  One of them decides sharing is overrated, the other grabs the toy, the other screams, then the other replies with hitting or pinching, then it escalates to bighting or pulling hair.  Meanwhile I sit in the corner wearing my pith helmet recording it all in a field journal.  Of course, I’m kidding… as a parent I break up the fight and I discipline them.  It drives me crazy when the kids fight.  But I try to remember that they are, after all, two year-olds.  They don’t yet have the impulse control to respond appropriately when they feel wronged.  They haven’t learned that there are more important things at stake than who has the ball.    

It’s also interesting to observe how our 5 year-old, Koby, behaves differently.  His little brother and sister gang up on him – they break his stuff, they hit and pinch, they pull his hair; but, matter what they do to him, he very rarely will retaliate in kind.  It’s interesting to observe what a difference a few years makes: he’s begun to understand that even when someone does you harm, it isn’t always justifiable to do the same back.  He’s learned that there are higher principles to take into account: he understands that they are still learning how to behave; he knows that escalating isn’t going to solve the problem; he trusts that he can rely on grown-ups to help him; and he’s learning that hurting his siblings is wrong no matter what.  Approaching age six, he’s become more mature and I’m proud of him for that.  It isn’t easy to do the right thing when your instincts dictate otherwise.  

 This week’s Torah portion is largely about the rules that ask us to transcend our instincts and inclinations – even when giving in to them might be justifiable.  At first glance, Parashat Ki Tetze reads like a laundry list of laws that don’t have much to do with one another.  But one theme that ties together most of the mitzvot in Ki Tetze is the irreducible dignity and worth of every human being.  These are laws that demand that we uphold principles, even when it feels like a sacrifice.  Here are some of them:

                The Torah says that if you, as a soldier, are fighting in a war and you take a woman captive; and if you find her attractive and want to marry her, you have to wait for a month.  In the meantime, she’s supposed to make herself as unattractive as possible.  If after a month you still like her – only then can you marry her. If not, you have to set her free?  Why?  Why is it that in a world in which it was typical for men to rape women in war, Israelite soldiers had to go to such lengths to marry a captive woman?  Would our enemies have afforded our women the same rights?  After all, he’s not forcing her.  But God says no, you have to give her time to mourn her parents and you have to transcend the passion you felt on the battlefield in order to preserve her dignity.  If you’re going to marry her, you have to actually fall in love with her.  

The Torah says when you see someone’s lost animal, you have to return it.  Why?  Why is it your problem if your neighbor can’t keep his ox tied up?  What if your neighbor is a jerk?  But God says no, you can’t ignore it, lo tuchal l’hit-alem.  It doesn’t matter if you like your neighbor; you have to go out of your way to help him.  

The Torah says when you build a house with a flat roof, you need to build a wall around it to prevent people from falling off.  Why?  It’s your house.  If someone’s walking around on your roof and they don’t look where they’re going, why is that your fault?  You didn’t push them off!  But God says no – you have to protect other people, even against their own clumsiness.  

The Torah says if your father is married to a woman who isn’t your mother and your father dies, you can’t marry his widow.  Why not?  Your single; she’s single.  You like her; she likes you. What’s wrong with that? –she’s not even related to you! But God says no – you have to transcend your instincts and respect your father’s dignity even in death.  

The Torah says if you lend someone money you can’t take the clothes off his back or the tools he uses to make a living as collateral.  Why not?  If he wants to pawn his shirt, why’s that your problem!  But God says no, you have to look out for his dignity, even if poverty has stripped him of it. 

The Torah says if someone owes you money and doesn’t pay up, you can’t enter her house to seize property.  Why not?  You’re the repo man; and you’re taking what is rightfully yours.  But God says no - it may be yours, but you have to afford her the dignity of handing it over herself.  

The Torah says if you hire a day laborer you can’t wait till the next day to pay him.  Why not?  You’re not denying him his wage, you’re just saying, “I’ll pay you in the morning”?  But God says, no – a person who lives hand-to-mouth deserves to eat dinner after an honest day’s work and shouldn’t have to go hungry till morning.  

And there are several other examples like these throughout the Torah.  Taken together, they teach us that God holds human dignity as a primary value and an unconditional right.

                But the question remains: why do we have to be so moral? There’s nothing I just listed that is in itself wrong.  Doing the things prohibited by this list doesn’t make you an overtly bad person.  Why should we be expected to be better than what human inclinations dictate?  Why should we be better than the other nations amongst whom we live who don’t follow these rules?  But God says no, you do have to be better. 

Over and over the Torah says that it isn’t enough to refrain from doing harm.  Again and again, the Torah teaches us that human dignity is not up for debate.  You don’t get to choose which people are deserving of dignity and which are not.  You have to act fairly and respectful of others even when your inclination is to do otherwise, even when it costs you something, even when it doesn’t feel fair, even when it is uncomfortable for you.  But that takes maturity to understand.

The Torah does not use the language of “rights,” but in modern legal parlance we would say that human dignity and freedom are rights.  As Jews we should be proud of our religion for holding us to high standards.  And I think this is also true for us as Americans.  Like Judaism, we have a Constitution that holds us to high standards.  Like Judaism, the law of this land is one based on principles that uphold human dignity for all people.  That’s really hard to do!  Like the soldier who has to go to a lot of trouble to marry a woman who, by anyone else’s standards has no rights, sometimes upholding our principles is costly.  Like the guy who owes you money and fails to repay; or the schlemiel on the roof, some people take advantages of the system – they act irresponsibly or offensively; nonetheless, we afford them rights and dignities, even if we think they don’t deserve them.     

                Judaism acknowledges that it’s hard to be that moral.  If these standards were easy, God wouldn’t have to command them.  Likewise, the US Constitution recognizes that providing freedom equally and standing on principles is hard to do.  If these freedoms were easy to ensure, we wouldn’t have to declare them as rights.  

                Being Jewish and also being American means we don’t measure ourselves by other people’s lower moral standards.  We’re not governed by the lowest common denominator.  We don’t act like children who say “I’m going to treat you the way you would treat me if the tables were turned.”  We stand on principle even when we don’t like it or find it convenient.  Upholding our ideals not only makes us better people; it is a sign of maturity.  Like parents who have to teach their children not to lash out every time someone offends them; the law is there to help us be more mature, even when we don’t like it.