As I read this week’s Torah portion, Shoftim, one word keeps resonating: Judges. Sure, it is the first word of the parashah: “Shoftim v’shotrim titein leach – You shall appoint judges and officials in all your gates that God has given you for your tribes, and they should govern the nation with righteous judgement.” In all honesty, judges and the judicial system have been on my mind all week, ever since hearing the news of the swearing in ceremony for Elana Kagen, the newest Supreme Court Appointee.
Coincidentally, my studies with one of my students during this month have also been about the rabbinically-constructed judicial system. So begins the Mishnah of the Talmudic tractate of Sanhedrin: “Cases of monetary compensation are adjudicated in three…”, after which a long list of legal categories and the number of judges required to adjudicate in each instance. Monetary cases require three judges, capital cases require twenty three judges, and still other cases – an optional war, false prophet – require 71 judges. And, there are even a few cases – cities of refuge in boundary areas or assigning three cities of refuge - that are not adjudicated at all. The deeper the implication of the ruling on human life and/or societal norms, the more judges needed to adjudicate.
As we celebrate Rosh Hodesh Elul and begin the introspection and self-correction that helps us prepare for the High Holidays, I could not help but wonder about the connection between judges and officials and the onset of the high holiday season. What do judges have to do with the work of teshuvah, the process of preparing our hearts to re-connect with God, community, and even ourselves?
I suppose that some might want to tell me that the answer is easy – after all is this not the time when God judges us, one by one, determining who will live and who will die? But, I am not sure the God I believe in sits as a judge on a throne, waiting for forty days to issue a verdict. There is, I think, more to this connection of judges and the reading of the parashah just after Rosh Hodesh Elul. And, so I turn once again to the opening words.
‘Shoftim v’shotrim titein LECHA, You should appoint judges and officials…’ Looking at the Hebrew words and their meaning, the word "lecha {for you individually}," seems superfluous and disjointed. After all, this is a commandment to the community, the collective, and could have been stated simply "appoint judges and officers"! Why did the Torah add the word: "lecha – for YOU" as if to imply this is an obligation for each and every individual?
The eighteenth century Hasidic commentary Toldot Yaakov Yosef (whose was a disciple of the Baal Shem Tov) offers one explanation. Lecha, he says, is intended to say: for you, for yourself. As if to say, you should appoint judges within yourself. Every person has the obligation to sit in judgment of him/herself and his/ her own actions. As humans, we regularly adjudicate situations and actions in our lives. Sometimes we deliberate, considering all possibilities; other times we act on impulse. Either way, we are accountable for our decisions and we benefit when we reflect after the fact, consider the consequences of our choices, and seek ways to continue to learn and grow.
For some of us, we do indeed judge ourselves. For many, however, judging others is so much easier. So, Toldot Yaakov Yosef continues with another important lesson about what it means for each of us to appoint internal judges… “First judge yourself, and, using the same yardstick, judge others. Do not be lenient with your faults while judging harshly the same faults in others; do not overlook sin in yourself while demanding perfection of others.” We have all experienced moments when the desire to rebuke or criticize someone else consumes us, especially when we think we are doing so out of love. Sometimes we need a reminder that we need to see the same beauty in others that we see in ourselves and that we want reflected back to us from other people. No one of us is perfect, not the man in the mirror, or the woman sitting next to you.
Occasionally, we are our own weakest judges. Unintentionally, we harm ourselves or others. We have difficulty seeing the beauty inside ourselves or others, and we are misled by our best intentions. For those moments, I would like to add another reading of the idea that each of us appoints our own judges.
In this month of Elul and throughout the year, we need also to seek our individual judges from amongst our friends, families, colleagues, or community members who can help prevent us from making decisions that are not truly just. With loving companionship of people who care, we can change. We can grow. We can become more just in our assessments of ourselves and others. And, as the Mishnah Sandhedrin reminds us, different circumstances, different decisions, may call for alternate number of judges. And, some things may not be adjudicated by our human judges at all, but may be between us and God whom we pray judges us in love, compassion, and righteousness.
Shabbat Shalom.