Mishpatim, this week’s Torah portion, follows the Revelation at Sinai. After the holiness and spectacular moment at Sinai, we are now faced with the mundane. What are the rules and regulations that will govern a healthy society?
There are civil and criminal laws:
“When a man opens a pit, or digs a pit and does not cover it, and an ox or an ass falls into it, the one responsible for the pit must make restitution; he shall pay the price to the owner but shall keep the dead animal.”
Furthermore, “When a man lets his livestock loose to graze in another’s land, and so allows a field or a vineyard to be grazed bare, he must make restitutions for the impairment of that field or vineyard. … You must not carry false rumors; you shall not join hands with the guilty to act as a malicious witness. … When you encounter your enemy’s ox or ass wandering, you must take it back to him.”
And amid this is an ethical law:
“Do not oppress a stranger, because you know what it feels like to be a stranger: You were strangers in the land of Egypt.”
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Judaism’s life-changing idea is in this portion. The Torah warns us against mistreating the ger, the stranger, one who is vulnerable.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote, “The great crimes of humanity have been committed against the stranger, the outsider, the one-not-like-us. Recognizing the humanity of the stranger has been the historic weak point in most cultures. … Dehumanizing the other and all the moral forces in the world will not save us from evil.”
Empathy. Where is the empathy in our world?
Carl Rodgers wrote: “Empathy is the accurate understanding of the other person’s world as seen from the inside.”
My late mom would espouse the importance of walking in another’s shoes to understand that soul.
We are commanded to act in a certain way. It is not a suggestion. We do so because we KNOW what it was like to be a stranger. Memory is powerful except when it is not. How easy is it to forget from whence we traveled? And yet, as Jewish souls, we know and feel the pain of being “other,” or vulnerable.
Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb wrote, “Rashi, the greatest of our commentators, demonstrates how very well he understood the concept of empathy in his comment upon the phrase, ‘the poor among you, et he’ani imach.’ Literally, this means ‘the poor person within you.’ Prompting Rashi to recommend that we ‘look well at ourselves and imagine that we, too, are poor.’ ”
Yes! Slip on their shoes and see how far you get. In the words of David Brooks, understand the “audacity of the heart.” Find the humanity. Act upon more than love, because love is not always enough or appropriate. You need chesed. Make the person seen and heard, just as you wish to be seen and heard. When you gaze into someone’s eyes and listen to the silent cries, that soul becomes you. We depersonalize others because we think it is easy. We lead with cruelty and apathy. This is not what God demands of us. You would return a neighbor’s lost dog or cat. Why would you oppress the same person?
Rules are rules. It is frightening to make ourselves vulnerable. And yet, it is the way to truly live, to open your heart and hands with love. This is what this portion asks of us.
There are 53 rules in this portion. Instead of thinking about all that divides us, may we begin to see the stranger as no different from ourselves. Her story is my story. His journey is the one I am on or took. We just need to wrestle with ourselves to see the truth. See ourselves and see others. We are not so different, are we?
As Rabbi Sacks wrote, “If you seek to change anyone’s behavior, you have to enter into their mindset, and then say the word or do the deed that speaks to their emotions, not yours.”

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