Many of the hot-button political issues today relate to how we assist those on the margins of society. Refugees, government subsidized health care and social welfare programs are issues that divide Republicans and Democrats, liberals and conservatives.

I profoundly believe that no matter where we come from on the political spectrum, we want to help people in need. The question is how. 

Is it better to tax the public to fund government social services, or to allow people greater disposable income to donate to charities and support folks on their own? 

In addition, do we take care of our own (citizens) first, or strive to welcome those from other countries into our land? Is it an either or?

I believe that one can be a good person and hold different views on how we divide our shared resources to assist those in need. In fact, I think that is a profoundly Jewish point of view.

We have a tradition of machloket l’shem shamayim, dispute for the sake of heaven, modeled after the rabbinic arguments of Hillel and Shammai. When we debate the means to accomplish holy ends, we can both represent the words of the living God. 

Our Torah portion for this week, Ki Tetzei, drives home our responsibility to care for those in need. It demonstrates particular concern for the weak and downtrodden of society.

Yet it also leaves room for different interpretations for how we might give voice to this concern. 

I would like to cite two ways it does so.

First, our portion commands us to offer runaway slaves sanctuary (Deut. 23:16-17). 

At a time when ancient law codes required slaves to be returned to their masters, our Torah enjoins just the oppositeand instructs us to allow the runaway slave to live among us in our cities (Etz Chaim Torah Commentary). 

Every city in Israel was a “sanctuary city” for these slaves.

Before we jump to political conclusions, however, we must ask: Who are these slaves? Rashi cites a debate in his commentary on the verse. 

The Aramaic translation Onkelus defines them as Jewish slaves who had been sold to a gentile. This law, then, serves to first and foremost protect our own. This reminds me of those who argue we must limit immigration to protect American workers. 

But Rashi also cites the view in the Talmud (Gittin 45a) that  extends the protection offered to runaway slaves to include even Canaanite slaves, i.e. foreigners. 

Read this way, this passage could support the efforts of “sanctuary cities” to welcome undocumented immigrants and refugees into our society. Perhaps these are modern day slaves fleeing oppressive masters. 

Both readings, I believe, are legitimate ways to respond to the competing demands of those in need. Sometimes we must protect our own, and sometimes we must welcome in the stranger because we, too, were slaves in the land of Egypt (Deut. 24:18,22).

A second example relates to our responsibility to provide food for the poor. 

The Torah takes this responsibility very seriously. As Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin once taught me, the “holy trinity” of Judaism is not three manifestations of God (after all, we are strictly monotheistic), but rather the stranger, orphan and the widow. These three figures are repeated often throughout the Torah; in our portion, we are told three times (Deut. 24:19-21) to reserve the fallen produce of the field for these people.

What is an analogue today for the poor gathering fallen produce in the field? Is this charity offered by the landowner, or a “government tax” mandated by the Torah? Is this even charity at all, because the poor are working hard to collect the produce that would otherwise rot in the dirt? 

The Torah defies the neat political categories we have in our polarized society. 

Rather, it encourages us to think creatively about the value we share: a commitment to provide for the poor and the needy. And to debate for the sake of Heaven the best ways to accomplish that holy aim. 

And, finally, the Torah demands we act based on our values. 

May we remember that we have more in common than our politics suggest, and may we respectfully debate with one another the way to realize our shared vision.  

Shabbat Shalom.