Shiur provided courtesy of Naaleh.com
Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Most of Parshat Mishpatim, as the title itself indicates, deals with laws, most specifically, of torts, penalties and reparations one incurs upon causing damages to another, whether purposefully, through negligence or through theft. As with everything in Torah, one size does not fit all, even for similar transgressions. One of these statutes deals specifically with the theft of animals. If one steals an ox, he is required to pay five times the value of the ox as a penalty, while someone who steals a sheep is required to pay only four times its value. Why is there such a discrepancy?
We begin with Rashi who gives us a simple explanation based on the Torah's sensitivity to every human being, even to sinners. The ox thief was able to walk alongside the ox, leading it away, while the sheep thief, needed to actually carry the sheep on his shoulders, suffered embarrassment. That embarrassment accounted for some of the thief's punishment. The Torah is sympathetic even to the feelings of a thief, notes Rabbi Weissblum.
On this note, our Sages have said that he who wants to practice Judaism as a chassid/one who goes beyond the letter of the law to its very spirit, should study the laws of nezikin/damages. In Daas Torah, Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz zt”l tells us that the ways of Hashem are Emes/Truth. To achieve this truth, there is a delicate balance between mishpat/statutes and tzedakah/justness/charity. In secular law, there is generally strict justice, although mitigating circumstances are sometimes introduced. In Torah law, the two are inextricably interwoven. Hashem takes everything into account, the transgressor's fear, his embarrassment, how arduous the work. But the sin itself is serious, and never to be totally ignored.
The first time the Torah connects tzedakah with mishpat is in the prologue of the dialogue between Hashem and Avraham Avinu right before Hashem destroys Sodom. Hashem knows that Avraham will teach his children and his descendants to practice tzedakah and mishpat. This pairing is the basis of Avraham's bargaining with Hashem. Avraham understands that Hashem wants to extend kindness to his creations, and with even a few tzadikim within the city, Hashem will not destroy them. But nevertheless, when there is not enough of that righteous protection, emes/truth prevails, and then strict judgment is meted out.
The complexity of true judgment includes considering the dignity of all of creation. If Hashem was concerned with the dignity of the inanimate path to the altar, making it a ramp rather than steps that could reveal to the steps some nakedness of the kohain, certainly He is concerned with the dignity of a person, even of a thief, writes Rabbi Weissblum.
Perhaps the integration of tzedakah and mishpat is best expressed in the verse in Tehillim 36:7: "Tzidkoscha/Your faithfulness/righteousness is like the mighty mountains, Mishpatecha/ Your judgments are like the deep waters."In Sichot Mussar, Rabbi Shmulevitz zt”l gives us a profound example of the relationship between these two concepts. Miriam, Moshe's sister was punished with tzoraas for speaking improperly about her brother. As part of the punishment, the leper [for lack of a better translation] must remain outside the camp, in physical and spiritual isolation. However, in honor of Miriam, the entire Israelite nation remained encamped, waiting without moving, for the full seven days of her quarantine. Hashem credited Miriam with a full week for the short time she had waited on the shores of the Nile to see what would happen to Moshe, her infant brother. At the moment we judge a man at his worst, we must also remember and credit him also for his good.
Even the lowest person is created both body and soul, earth and a spark of godliness, even if he himself seems unaware of it. Hashem considers the shame of the soul, even when the body is blind to it, writes Letitcha Elyon. Therefore, we too, in the human court, have mercy on him and on the shame of his soul. We are all made of earth and therefore have a weak link within our material component, explains Mesillot Bilvavam. Hashem understands the struggle we often face between our body and our soul.
Obviously, the thief himself feels no shame as he chooses to steal the sheep and carry it on his shoulders in the public streets. But Hashem looks not only at the thief's physical presence, but also into his soul. Hashem knows the disgrace of the soul, writes Rabbi Eisenberger, citing Rabbi Elya Lopian zt”l.
A related, ubiquitous question is why the wicked prosper while the righteous suffer. Here too, the answer is related to our discussion. Since it is the earthy body that sins, the punishment for a tzadik, who has fallen into momentary sin is meted out in this world so that his godly soul receive its eternal reward in the next, eternal world. His soul did not sin, but was dragged into sin through his body.
If one sins with a groan, it is his neshamah that is expressing pain. Therefore, one who sins with a groan is charged less harshly than one who commits the sin confidently. Further, as Rabbi Eisenberger cites Rav Bunim of Peshischa, Hashem also takes into account the pain and embarrassment of the sinner's family. In a profound understanding of Hashem, since we all contain within us a Divine spark, Hashem Himself, is in pain.
As Hashem judges others with compassion, so must we also look beyond the physical and apparent, and judge others with "rose colored lenses," sensing that their spiritual soul is in pain. Similarly, when we ourselves stray, we should not be embarrassed to let out a krechchtz, a little groan that our misstep and sin is painful to us. Our earthly body may have lost this battle, but our neshamah will win the war. While tzedakah and mishpat seem to contradict each other, whenever possible, one must apply tzedakah to the judgment, as Hashem Himself does, writes Rabbi Schwab zt”l.
Rabbi Levenstein concedes that the thief himself may not care about his own honor, but this does not diminish his godly soul. We must still respect the image of God within him. After death, our soul is asked, "Did you treat others with respect? Did you give honor to his kingly aspect? Did you steal his honor, perhaps by something as simple as stealing the punchline of the joke he was telling?
Every person needs to feel appreciated. As Rabbi Wolbe zt”l observes, a man cannot live without honor. Recognize the uniqueness of each individual. As Rebbetzin Smiles points out, the worst feeling a person can have is that he is invisible, that no one sees him, no one cares if he exists. [Unfortunately, one of the most abusive practices today is ghosting. CKS] Every person is a walking sefer Torah, and, just as we give honor to the Torah, we should honor every individual. While we have many commandments indicating how not to harm others, we need to figure out how to respect others, how to recognize their tzelem Elokhim, show an interest in them and make others feel good and be happy.
Among the agricultural mitzvoth in the Torah is the mitzvah of payah, of leaving a corner of the field for the poor to come and gather the crop. Why not have the farmer gather the harvest of that corner and give it to the poor instead of leaving the corner for the poor to work? Rabbi Eisenberger in Mesollot Bilvovom explains that we are preserving the dignity of the poor, for he is getting sustenance directly from Hashem, not from the hands of the landowner. Choni Hameagel/the Circlemaker is quoted as saying, או חברותא או מיתותא / Give me a true friend [who sees me and values me] or give me death. Every person wants to be seen and valued as a unique individual.
In a related observation, Rabbi Friefeld zt”l notes that that if you give someone all kinds of gifts, but you give it with a frown, you are fulfilling a need, not giving a gift to a human being. Give with a smile, a personal greeting. This is the difference between seeing someone with a tzoras ayin, a narrow eye, seeing only the negative aspects of an individual, or viewing him with a tuv ayin, a good, broad eye. Do we look through a keyhole or a crack, or do we open the door to see the full picture of the person?
Hashem sees the needs and totality of every individual. Who will steal an ox or a sheep? Obviously only someone who is poor. Within this context, Rabbi Pardes notes in Hashir Vehashevach, that a poor person's needs would be fulfilled with the theft of a sheep. If he steals an ox, he is reaching beyond his station and his need. Hashem therefore is punishing him for this manifestation of ego beyond his actual need, and he must pay five times the value of his theft. However, Hashem has compassion for the poor man who stole the sheep. Although he sinned, the thief took because he was in need and no more, and his punishment is therefore less.
What people need above all is respect. Rabbi Lugassi notes the lengths many people will go to achieve that respect, whether it is through earning wealth, status, or even, unfortunately, negatively through brute force. Conversely, humiliation creates the greatest rift between people. It is important to acknowledge others and show them respect. As Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz notes, if Hashem Himself takes into consideration the dignity of each individual, how much more so must we make the effort to respect others.
Rabbi Pliskin offers a thoughtful point. If Hashem diminishes the punishment of a sinner because he suffers embarrassment, how much more does He reward someone who suffers scorn for doing a mitzvah, or for refusing to join others in a questionable activity.
In Yiddishkeit, we value the process, and give credit for effort and pain. Certainly if Hashem gives credit for effort and pain to mitigate a sin, Hashem gives merit for effort and pain in doing mitzvoth, even if the attempt was unsuccessful, writes Rabbi Eisenberger.
By studying the laws of damages, we get a true appreciation of the complexity of Torah law. Equally important, we begin to see each human being, even when the brightness is dimmed, as a reflection of the light of Hashem within him.





