Have Questions or Comments?
Leave us some feedback and we'll reply back!

    Your Name (required)

    Your Email (required)

    Phone Number)

    In Reference to

    Your Message


    LIGHT AND DARKNESS

    This week’s parsha, Mishpatim, opens with
    the words “V’eileh hamishpatim, And these
    are the ordinances.” (Shemos 21:1) “V’eileh,
    And these.” One little letter, vav, meaning
    and, connects the previous parsha of Yisro to
    parshas Mishpatim. The word and signifies a
    continuation. Rashi brings a Midrash, that just
    as the Aseres HaDibros, the Ten
    Commandments were given at Sinai, so, too,
    were the civil laws contained in this parsha
    given at Sinai.
    The Aseres HaDibros were given in the boker,
    the morning, when the sun is shining and all
    looks bright. A time of clarity. Bnei Yisroel
    stood at Sinai and witnessed the miracle of a
    dry, desert mountain, bloom with magnificent,
    fragrant flowers and beautiful greenery. Not
    only was the mountain transformed, but the
    people in need of healing were cured.
    Miraculously, the blind were able to see, the
    deaf were able to hear, the lame walk, the
    mute were able to speak and all those whose
    bodies were weary and ached from years of
    harsh slave labor, were revived and
    strengthened. Simply stated, Har Sinai was a
    place of cure and healing. (As an aside,

    perhaps this explains why there are so many
    hospitals and health centers named Mount
    Sinai.) It was a true boker, morning light,
    bringing hope to the darkness of life.
    In contrast, the mefarshim note that the
    mishpatim, civil laws, were transmitted to
    Moshe during the evening, the erev. The word
    erev shares a root with the word irvuvi’ah,
    meaning chaos, confusion. A time of darkness,
    pain and challenge. Laws that deal with a
    variety of life situations, including
    circumstances that aren’t always pleasant. The
    Torah given at Sinai was not only meant for
    moments of clarity and inspiration, but also
    for the complex, painful, and confusing
    moments of real life.
    The parsha tells us of the eved Ivri, one
    who stole and has to sell himself to work
    as a servant in order to make restitution.
    Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-
    1888) writes that the parsha opens with
    the laws of an eved Ivri to teach us how
    important it is to value each and every
    individual. Even though he stole, he still
    has to be treated with respect and dignity.
    In fact, it is stated in the Talmud, “That he
    who acquires an eved Ivri acquires a
    master.” For example, the servant must be

    served the same food as the
    master, and he cannot be assigned
    any degrading tasks.
    Furthermore, if there is only one
    pillow available, it must go to the
    servant.
    We learn of the desperate father who
    cannot provide basic needs for his
    daughter. He sells her as a
    maidservant, in order that she will be
    well taken care of. In each of these
    cases, there are humanitarian laws
    whose purpose is to protect the rights
    of the servant. Laws that teach us the
    importance of kovod habriyos,
    extending honor and respect to all.
    And so, the parsha continues. Laws
    of accidental manslaughter, of murder and
    kidnapping. Of inflicting harm or cursing a
    parent. Of causing bodily injury to another. Of
    open pits that could bring harm. Of damage
    caused to another’s property, and so many and
    countless other laws governing the rough
    edges of human interaction.
    To Bnei Yisroel, the life lesson was clear.
    While they experienced the boker, the sun
    shining through the darkness, seeing flowers
    on the mountains, and everyone being cured
    from whatever ailed them, there were also
    moments of erev in life. Times of darkness.
    Days of chaos and confusion. But it is one
    Torah, with answers for all times.
    A life lesson that remains with us to this very
    day. We, too, have boker and erev, light and
    darkness, very often at the same time in our
    lives. This tension is not unique to Torah; it
    is a universal human experience. I think of
    Charles Dickens who wrote in A Tale of Two
    Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the
    worst of times.” Life has its ups and downs.
    We could be successful in business, yet at
    the same time have problems at home. We
    could see nachas from one child, while
    another is challenging. We could be living in
    the lap of luxury, yet have health issues.
    Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (1707-1746)
    writes in Mesilas Yesharim, Path of the Just,
    “All that befalls us in the world, the good as
    well as the bad, are tests.”
    Yes, the good too. What we do with our G-d
    given blessings is a test. If we are blessed do
    we give adequately to charity? If we are
    given the gift of spare time, do we use it to
    help others? It’s all in our hands.
    And what if we mess up? If we fail a life test.
    If we let an opportunity to do and accomplish
    pass us by.
    Shlomo HaMelech teaches “Sheva yipol
    tzaddik v’kam, A righteous person falls
    seven times and gets up.” (Mishlei 24:16)
    The mark of a righteous person is one who
    could stand up – even after falling. One who

    doesn’t give up, because he knows that he has
    a mission here on earth. Though he may
    stumble, and even fall, he picks himself up
    and continues on, knowing that HaShem is
    with him.
    For some, the erev of life is metaphorical. For
    others, it is historical, overwhelming, and
    enduring. My mother, a”h, wrote a book Life
    is a Test, a subject she knew only too well. She
    lived through the turbulent time of the
    Holocaust. A time she poignantly portrayed as
    follows: “The powerful Nazi influence
    transformed anti-Semitism into a politically
    correct ideology. Overnight, the world became
    a hunting ground. We Jews became the hunted,
    and the remainder of the world the hunters. As
    young as I was, the reality of death never left
    me.”
    My mother lost many aunts, uncles and
    cousins to the gas chambers of Auschwitz.
    After the war, my mother and her family came
    to the shores of this country. Here, she and her
    family were no longer the hunted. They
    resolved to become builders. She wrote in
    Life is a Test, “We were committed to build a
    better, kinder, more peaceful world.”
    With time, my mother met my father, another
    Holocaust survivor. Both had the same dream,
    the same aspiration, to build a better world.
    On their life journey together, there were
    many bumps along the way, they endured
    many tests, but never gave up their dream. A
    lesson to learn.
    This Shabbos, we bentch Rosh Chodesh Adar,
    the month in which we celebrate Purim. The
    Talmud teaches, “Mishenichnas Adar Marbim
    B’Simcha, When Adar arrives, we increase in
    joy. Let the spirit of Adar bring light to
    whatever darkness we experience, be it
    personally or as a people. May we experience
    boker, as we will read in Megillas Esther,
    “LaYehudim Haysa Ora V’Simcha, The
    Jewish people had light and joy…” May we
    learn to recognize the light even when it is
    hidden, and to carry it forward—into our
    homes, our communities, and our world.