Torah from JTS - The Jewish Theological Seminary

Between the Lines
Weekly Midrash Learning with Rabbi Andrew Shugerman
Leviticus Rabbah 34:2
ד״א וכי ימוך אחיך עמך הה״ד ‏(משלי יט)‏ מלוה ה׳ חונן דל אר״א כתיב נותן לחם לכל בשר
בא זה וחטף לו את המצוה אמר הקב״ה עלי לשלם לו גמולו הה״ד ‏(שם)‏ וגמולו ישלם לו ר׳
תנחומא אמר לה בשם ר׳ חייא בר אבא ר׳ נחמן אמר לה בשם ר׳ יודן בר״ש ורבנן בשם
רשב״ל אלמלא מקרא כתוב אי אפשר לאומרו כביכול דרכו של לוה להיות עבד למלוה הה״ד
‏(שם כב)‏ ועבד לוה לאיש מלוה
Another exposition of the verse, “If your kinsman is in [financial] straits . . . ” (Lev. 25:39). It
is written in Scripture: “One who is generous to the poor makes a loan to the Lord; He will
repay what is due” (Prov. 19:17). R. Eleazar said: It is written [elsewhere], “[God is the One]
Who gives food to all flesh, whose steadfast love is eternal” (Ps. 136:25); since this person
comes and fulfills the commandment [before God can act], the Blessed Holy One says: “I
must compensate that person.” Thus it is written, “ . . . He will repay what is due” (Prov.
19:17). R. Tanhuma taught in the name of R. Hiyya b. Abba, R. Nahman taught in the name
of R. Judan son of R. Simeon, and our Rabbis taught in the name of R. Simeon b. Lakish: “If
not for a verse of Scripture, it would be impossible to say this: as it were, it is usual for a
borrower [i.e., God] to become the servant of the lender; as it is written, “ . . . The borrower
is a servant to the lender!” (Prov. 22:7)
I love discovering rabbinic texts like the one above that make such radical claims about
Torah and God in general or about particular laws like tzedakah (righteous giving), one
subject at the heart of this week’s Torah portion. This midrash seems to focus more upon
theological inquiry than on providing practical guidance. By examining this text more
closely, we can see how our notions about God can have a profound impact on our ability
to give to the needy among us.
The midrash above discusses God’s intimate relationship with people who alleviate others’
poverty. Leviticus 25:37 specifically instructs us to make interest-free loans and to donate
food to our less fortunate neighbors. Our Sages read that passage alongside related
verses from Proverbs that depict God as a borrower from and servant to human lenders,
inverting God’s role from Lawgiver to one obligated under the Law. In order to make sense
of these seemingly wild ideas, we must recognize that ancient lenders had to trust that the
loan would be repaid without the use of long-term collateral and without any personal
benefit aside from upholding God’s law. Such a demonstration of faith in another person
today usually entails a cosigner who guarantees that the borrower will repay the debt.
Might the rabbis of this midrash have identified God as a guarantor as well?
That tongue-in-cheek question points towards a verse that challenges our entire human
approach to money: “ . . . the land is Mine; you are but strangers resident with Me” (Lev.
25:23). God created our world and is actively part of every relationship and encounter in
human civilization. We may see certain things as our “possessions,” but one message of
Parashat Behar is that we are all merely borrowers from God, the Infinite Source of All who
enjoins us to share our blessings. Rabbi Yisrael Salanter famously taught that: “the
material needs of others are an obligation of my spiritual life.” Along those lines, we all
have plenty of spiritual homework to do.
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Parashah Commentary
Torah from JTS
Parashat Behar
Leviticus 25:1−26:2
May 14, 2011
10 Iyyar 5771
This week's commentary was written by Rabbi Daniel Nevins, Pearl
Resnick Dean of The Rabbinical School and Dean of the Division of
Religious Leadership, JTS.
“Proclaim liberty throughout all the Land unto all the inhabitants thereof.” These words
from our parashah (Leviticus 25:10) are famously inscribed upon the Liberty Bell in
Philadelphia, and they have resounded as a message of hope for the oppressed
throughout the world. Yet our parashah also contains a darker message that endorses
slavery, just as America has paired proclamations of liberty with cruel practices of
slavery and discrimination throughout its history. In the same chapter of Leviticus, we
read that non-Israelite residents of the land may be acquired as permanent slaves,
and may be kept “as a possession for your children after you, for them to inherit as
property for all time.”
What are we to make of this contradiction in our parashah? Why does the Torah view
slavery as anathema for Israelites but acceptable for their neighbors? We might expect
to find a rationale based on the assertion of religious, racial, or at least ethnic
superiority, but none of these concepts is present in Leviticus. Rather, our portion
offers a theological explanation: Israelites may not become permanent slaves to other
people, whether kinsmen or strangers, because they are already slaves to another
master—the Lord who redeemed them from Egypt.
That’s right. The exodus from Egypt is not, in this telling, about the rejection of slavery
as a moral outrage, but rather about God’s exclusive ownership of the people of Israel.
The chapter emphasizes this point in its final verse: “For it is to Me that the Israelites
are servants: they are My servants, whom I freed from the land of Egypt, I the Lord
your God” (Lev. 25:54). On this basis, Jews have always been active in liberating
enslaved Jews but have often acquiesced to and have periodically participated in the
enslavement of non-Jews throughout history, right up until the American Civil War.

Following President Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation and then more completely in the
13th Amendment, American law forbade slavery. Jewish law submitted to civil law under
the principle of dina d’malkhuta dina, that financial rules are determined by the
government, but there was no mechanism for a Jewish version of an emancipation
proclamation until the birth of Israel.
The State of Israel lacks a constitution, but in its 1948 Declaration of Statehood and, more
explicitly, its 1992 Basic Law: Human Liberty and Dignity, it makes the following statement:
“Fundamental human rights in Israel are founded upon recognition of the value of the
human being, the sanctity of human life, and the principle that all persons are free.” This is
a powerful moral and legal statement of which we Jews should be particularly proud.
Despite these bold American and Israeli statements, slavery has not disappeared—not in
1865, not in 1948, not in 1992, nor even today. Various forms of slavery continue to be
practiced, as documented by Benjamin Skinner in his recent book, A Crime So Monstrous:
Face to Face with Modern Slavery. Skinner follows the modern slave trade on five
continents, from sex-trafficking to the sale of children into forced labor. In the book’s
opening, he narrates his tale of flying from New York City to Haiti and buying a boy within
five hours of departure. Skinner claims that there are more people living in slavery today
than at any other time of history. This moral outrage exists nearly everywhere, including in
America and in Israel. In both countries, migrant workers live in a perilous legal state and
are vulnerable to predatory behaviors by employers who withhold pay with impunity.
Fortunately, Israel has an active human and civil rights community, and the Israeli
Supreme Court recently issued a ruling to protect such workers.
There are many reasons to celebrate Israeli Independence as we did this week. Among
them is the unprecedented opportunity for the Jewish people to exercise a collective moral
action such as Israel has done with its Basic Law: Human Dignity and Liberty. No prior
Jewish source has said as clearly what this law said—that slavery is forbidden across-theboard
for all people. As Jews, we should be proud of this clear document, but more than
pride is asked of us. The antislavery sentiments of modern democracies such as Israel and
the United States must be translated into a reality in which the enslavement and even
subjugation of any human being becomes impossible.
Perhaps the Bible can, after all, be the foundation for this change. Slavery, it shows, is
wrong because for one human to claim ownership of another is to deny the divine
prerogative. It is not only the Jewish people who are “owned” by God. The book of Psalms
says, “The earth is the Lord’s and all that it holds, the world and its inhabitants” (24:1). Any
religious person who would participate in the subjugation of another human being must be
reminded that this is an outrage not only to humanity but also to God.
The Jewish task is to proclaim this message, to oppose enslavement and oppression, and
to stand for liberty and dignity for all. We must name these ideals, confront the ugly reality
of continued enslavement, and dedicate ourselves to fulfilling the broader mandate, which
began with: “Proclaim liberty throughout all the Land unto all the inhabitants thereof” (Lev.
25:10)!
The publication and distribution of the JTS Commentary are made possible by a generous
grant from Rita Dee and Harold (z”l) Hassenfeld.
A Taste of Torah
A Commentary by Rabbi Matthew Berkowitz, director of Israel
Programs, JTS
Parashat Behar is consumed with dependence and independence. On the
one hand, Torah legislates in regard to the laws of shmittah (release). Every
seventh year the land must remain untilled and “ownerless,” as it were.
Torah communicates that we are ultimately dependent on God. Our
“ownership” of the land is illusory and ephemeral. Possession of the land is
ultimately in the divine realm. On the other hand, independence and freedom
are stressed. In the 50th or Jubilee year, land returns to the “original” owner
and servants are liberated. Freedom from one’s master becomes a prime
value for Torah. The second half of Parashat Behar underscores this value
as we read of a kinsman who finds himself in dire straits. How are we to
relate to the “other” who finds herself dependent on the goodwill of
strangers?
Professor Ze’ev Falk highlights and explains the powerful message
communicated in Torah. He writes,
Three times, Torah refers to the case of a kinsman “in straits;” it is a
description of the gradual demise of one’s fellow. First, he is forced
to give up the land upon which he works and dwells. Afterwards, he
lacks money and food and seeks a loan. Then finally, he sells
himself as a servant to a fellow Israelite. An additional fourth time
the word “straits” is mentioned in reference to a case in which the
kinsman sells himself to a “resident alien”: “If a resident alien among
you has prospered, and your kinsman being in straits, comes under
his authority and gives himself over to the resident alien among you,
he will have the right to redeem himself even after he has given
himself over [to the alien]” (Leviticus 25:47). Here the kinsman is no
longer the master over a fellow kinsman; the stranger has become
master. The Torah’s implicit message is that one must help one in
straits and assist the needy individual before his demise. Just as it
is explained in the midrash of Sifra: “to what may this be compared?
To a load upon a donkey. While the donkey continues to stand,
struggling under its load, one person can help the donkey (by
unloading excess weight or rebalancing the load). Once the donkey
collapses, five people cannot help the donkey stand up again.”
(Falk, Divrei Torah Ad Tumam, 302)
We are repeatedly given implicit and explicit chances in life to help those in
need. The earlier we intervene, the more effective we will be in providing
assistance. Too often, we remain on the sidelines and watch as a situation
worsens before we volunteer to help. Eschewing hesitation and ambivalence
is the key to making a community and this world a much better place.
The publication and distribution of A Taste of Torah are made possible by a
generous grant from Sam and Marilee Susi.