Sermon—July 18, 2015
Tzedek Umishpat
Justice and Righteousness
Cantor Jack Chomsky
From June 30 to July 9, I
was privileged to be part of the Hartman Institute Rabbinic Torah Study Seminar
– Justice and Righteousness—Personal Ethics and National Aspirations – held in
Jerusalem.
I had heard about the
annual rabbinic study seminar at the Hartman Institute from many rabbinic and a
few cantorial colleagues—always in glowing complimentary fashion. So I was pleased when the schedule for this
year provided an opportunity for me to dive in.
For most of 10 days, I
spent over 12 hours a day in study and fellowship with about 175 colleagues
from across the U.S., plus a few from Canada, New Zealand and South
America. It was a reunion of sorts for
many of them – and for me, too. I
reconnected with people I remember from my days in cantorial school when they
were studying to be rabbis, and with prominent rabbis of the Conservative and
Reform Movements. And I met and studied
with people active in new corners of Orthodoxy—including the first woman to be
recognized as a Rabbah in the Orthodox world.
What a treat to roll up
our sleeves in chevrusa study—sometimes in pairs, sometimes in groups of 3 to
6, to encounter a stunning variety of texts meticulously prepared for us—to hear
from a wide variety of scholars—movers and shakers in Israeli and American society—and
to challenge ourselves with the question of how to turn learning into doing—for
ourselves and for those we serve.
It will take me a long
time to unpack the texts and ideas I encountered over those 10 days. This morning, I’d like to explore one corner
with you—a corner that turns out to be extremely timely.
Melila Hellsner-Eshed’s
presentation was entitled “Saving the World from the Flames of Justice.” Dr. Hellsner-Eshed is a professor of Jewish
mysticism and Zohar at the Hebrew University, and for two decades has been a
central figure in the Israeli renaissance of Jewish textual study, not just in
the religious world, but also the secular.
The key question we must face
is – what is the proper balance between righteousness and judgement?
Although it’s often
impossible to confine one ancient Hebrew word to one modern English word
definition, we can mostly be fairly safe in saying that
Tzedek can
be understood as Righteousness
And Mishpat can be understood to be judgement
Tzedek uMishpat m’chon kisecha – Righteousness and judgement are the foundation of
God’s throne—and therefore the foundation of the world that we want to perfect
in God’s image.
What images do you
associate with these words
Tzedek—Righteousness
Scales? . . A fist?. . . A
blindfolded lady?
Mishpat – Judgement
A judge? A courtroom?
Sometimes these values can
seem opposed.
A classic example from the
Talmud:
Mishna Gittin 5:5 says. .
.
Rabbi Yochanan ben
Gudgodah testified. . . in the case of a beam that has been stolen and the
thief went and built it into a large building or palace, its owner can only
claim its value in money.
On this same issue, the
Gemara tells us that Shammai ruled that the thief must demolish the whole
building and restore the beam to its owner.
Hillel, though, said that the owner can claim only the money value of
the beam, so as not to place obstacles
in the way of penitents.
Shammai – “I want my beam
back. Until I get it back, there will be
no justice. I don’t care what you have
to knock down to do it.”
Hillel -- “If we want a world where people will come to justice, we need to have money damages. We need to have a way to move FORWARD and not
just keep knocking things down.”
As Dr. Hellner-Eshed put
it – the whole world that we know is
based on stolen beams.
This isn’t a denunciation
of the government here or in Israel—or anywhere. It’s the basic human condition. We understand that NOTHING really belongs to
us. It belonged to someone else first—or
didn’t. It all belongs to God.
There are two passages
from the world of the Zohar that may be particularly helpful in getting us past
the kind of oppositional justice that is too much a part of today’s world.
First -- Two Rungs: Mishpat and Tzedek – from Zohar
Vol. III 85b (Parashat K’doshim)
Rabbi Yose said “You shall
not do wrong b’mishpat – in judging.
You shall not favor the
poor and you shall not defer to the rich:
B’tzedek tishpot – In righteousness you shall judge your fellow.
“Come and see: there are
two rungs here: mishpat (justice) and tzedek (righteousness). What
is the difference between them? Well, one is Compassion and one is Judgment,
turning each other fragrantly firm. When
righteousness is aroused, it renders
judgment to all equally, for it contains no compassion or leniency. And when justice
is aroused, it contains compassion.
You might think that there is justice
entirely—but Scripture comes and says b’tzedek
tishpot—in righteousness shall you judge.
Why? Because righteousness does not punish one and forgive the other; rather all
of them equally, evenly balanced.”
If Compassion conducted the world alone, evil would go
unpunished; while if strict Judgment operated alone, humanity would not
survive.
So where does that leave us? This is a very complex passage, worthy of an
hour of study that we’re not going to do this morning. But there was one concept that came up in
this discussion that is completely innovative.
Did you hear it?
What is the difference between them? The qualities of compassion and judgment –
when properly balanced, turn each other FRAGRANTLY FIRM.
Seeking the FRAGRANCE of
justice. If it’s on fire, it might not
be the long-term solution!
The other passage from the
world of Zohar is not from the Zohar itself, but another writing by its
probable author Rabbi Moshe Di Leon.
This passage quite
literally brings light to the subject.
In his Sha’arei Tzedek (Gates of
Righteousness), he wrote, regarding Proverbs 20:27 which says “The human soul is the candle of God.”…
“The essence of faith and
the root of the holy intention for a human in this world is to serve the
Creator, to repair one’s soul (l’taken et
nafsho), to be enlightened with the light of the living.”
Instead of tinkering with
things, which is probably the way we usually think of tikun olam, he writes, “The
secret of faith and the root of intention is that a person in this world be a
foundation and seat upon which may rest the Throne on high. The person is the WICK, and the mitzvot and
good deeds are the OIL to prepare the wick . . . so that the radiant light will
shine on us so that we will be illumined before the Creator. The essence of the mitzvot and good deeds
that a person does in this world is to prepare the soul and to repair great and
good matters above and draw forth upon us the abundant light from above. “
What beautiful
imagery! Leaning upward toward
justice. Instead of beating down on
someone to create justice.
I’m sure that justice is
very much on your mind. You’re a
Jew. We obsess about it. Thank God. What is justice in South Carolina? What is justice in who can marry whom? What is justice in dealing with Iran and
nuclear weapons? I know that you’re
hearing a lot of noise and some wisdom about these things.
Let’s try to lean upward,
too—and to be sensitive to the FRAGRANCE of justice.
We Jews have sought to
make a more just world—from the time of the Torah, to the times of the Rabbis
of the Talmud, through 2000 years of exile from our promised land, and in most
of the “justice” revolutions of the modern world.
In our own lifetime, we
know well the words “If I had hammer. . . If I had a bell. . . If I had a song
to sing.” Too often today, people try to
hammer each OTHER with that hammer of justice.
Dr. Hellner-Eshed really
raises a crucial point with the title of her presentation. . . Saving the World
from the Flames of Justice. We are in
danger of burning things down with the heat we use to pursue justice.
Or as put magnificently by
20th century Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai:
Hamakom Bo Anu Tzodkim—The Place Where We Are Right
From the place where we
are right (shebo anu tzodkim)
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The place where we are
right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves (sfakot v’-ahavot)
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be
heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.
This tells us that we must
seek to create the fragrance of justice in places where everything has been
swept away – and where nothing is YET growing.
This is the story of our
people—whether in the aftermath of the Holocaust—whether in the aftermath of
the destruction that we are preparing to remember as Tisha B’Av comes next
weekend—or in the swept away places in our own lives.
May we find the strength,
the patience, and the wisdom, to lean upward and help to create the fragrance
of that kind of balanced justice in our lives, in our community, in our world,
in our time.
