Every morning Jews around the world proclaim proudly "Baruch Hu Elokeinu SheBra'anu Lichvodo...V'Natan Lanu Torat Emet - Blessed are you our God who has created us for His glory and gave us a Torah of truth". We have much to be proud of in being the recipients of the Torah, whose laws and statutes are upright and teach morality to the world. Indeed, our laws champion the values of human dignity, equality, fellowship and brotherhood.
Bearing this in mind, it does seem strange that Parashat Mishpatim, the Torah portion that outlines and details these very laws, begins with the description of the laws regarding the Jewish bondsman, the Eved Ivri. "If you acquire a Jewish bondsman, he should serve you for 6 years and then, in the seventh year, go free." Why is this the first of the "Mishpatim - statutes" that is outlined to the Jewish People immediately following the revelation at Sinai in last week's Parasha, Yitro? Where is the humanity in this? Where is the equality and brotherhood that is espoused in acquiring a servant, and a Jewish servant at that? Furthermore, the Torah tells us that if the Jewish bondsman does not want to go free, he can stay, provided that the master takes his ear and pierces it against the doorpost with a nail. This does not only seem like a breach of his human dignity, but it seems antithetical to the most basic principles of human rights we can conceive of! Clearly, this account of the Jewish bondsman, as the first of the all-important Mishpatim, is meant to teach us something much more fundamental about life and Torah values.
Who is the Jewish bondsman? He is a man that is down on his luck; someone who is struggling with life, struggling to make ends meet for himself and his family, so much so that he resorts to thievery in order to provide for his family. After being caught, he is then sold into "servitude" because of his inability to compensate the victim for his financial loss. This Jewish bondsman is then treated very well in his new home according to our sages. In essence, this servitude that he is sold into is a forum for the rehabilitation of this individual. In his service, he is obliged to work for an honest day's pay; to "pay his dues," and learn to function as an independent, productive member of society. He is afforded the ability to accomplish all of this while he is sheltered from the rigors and difficulties of everyday life in his mater's home. This is why it is imperative, according to the Torah, that he go free after six years of this sheltered existence. For after six years, it is now time for him to re-enter society and function as a full-fledged citizen, conforming to all of the Mishpatim that society dictates. Indeed, a closer examination of this Eved Ivri principle reveals that this "servitude" is not only an act reflecting human dignity, but it is also a great lesson in human compassion for the plight of others.
Accordingly, what happens when he refuses to take his position and fullfill his civic duties to society and Am Yisrael? He is called to task for this recalcitrance and unwillingness to fulfill his rightful place in the community. This is done by piercing his ear against the doorpost; this ritual is a painful reminder that he is no longer a slave. His ancestors, the Bnei Yisrael, were slaves, living in a controlled and sterile environment, with no ability to grow and reach for higher goals and achievements. Then God told them in no uncertain terms that they were free.
Consequently, God ordained that they must free themselves of the shackles of stagnancy that were binding them and holding them back. This was symbolically done by taking the blood of the (Paschal) lamb, the animal that was emblematic of the Egyptian Empire, and putting it on their doorposts. This signified their freedom so long ago and this is what the Jewish bondsman is ignoring when he refuses to rejoin society and live according to its Mishpatim. This rendering is reminiscent of the Midrashic dictum - "The ear that heard at Mt. Sinai ‘you are My (Hashem's) servants’ should be pierced." For in choosing to remain a servant and serve an earthly master, he is negating God's authority as the ultimate master of mankind.
The Mishpat of the Eved Ivri teaches us that, contrary to popular belief, the numerous and often intricate laws and Mitzvot of the Torah are not suposed to make our lives more difficult; rather, they are meant to make our lives more manageable and meaningful. Our Mishpatim give our lives definition and structure; without them, we are slaves to ourselves, society, and the prevailing culture. What theJewish bondsman, who could not bear to leave his "master's" home, did not understand was that as difficult as life was for him, if only he were to have committed himself to leading a dignified, productive life—a life dedicated to Torat Chaim and Ahavat Chessed, an ethical and altruistic lifestyle—he would have been more than fine on his own and he would have truly been free.
In these uncertain and precarious times for society and our people, may we rededicate ourselves to the Torah principles of ethical living, altruism, compassion, and love for all humanity. Through our adherence of these Mishpatim, may we free ourselves and overcome all the challenges that come our way.
Shabbat Shalom!
