The Torah is filled with stories that are full of action and intrigue.  Brothers against brothers.  Love stories.  Vengeance.

It’s also filled with the most basic fundamentals of right behavior:  don’t murder; don’t steal; take care of God’s creation while it’s in your care.

And, it’s filled with texts about how to be holy:  reminders that we should take our skills and our passions and offer what our hearts move us to do.

In contrast to all of these, this week’s parasha is filled entirely with laws.  The name of the parasha is Mishpatim, which means “laws.”  Not the Big 10—but more mundane stuff, like: 

What do we do if my ox gores your ox?

What do we do if you dig a pit and my donkey falls into it?

What do we do if I borrow your goat and it gets injured while in my care?

There are other things in here too:  laws about Shabbat and holidays, things about making sure to give the first things we grow back to God, since they’re God’s in the first place.

But, over and over again in this Torah portion, the Torah tells us that it is our job to take care of vulnerable members of society:  the widow, the fatherless, and the poor.  And it groups with those people the ger:  the stranger, the foreigner or alien, anyone who is not one of “us.”

And, I’ll tell you:  I understand why the Torah needs to reiterate these again and again because these things sound obvious but they are so hard.  It doesn’t say, only take care of those whom you like or trust.  It doesn’t say, make sure that the money you give to people will be well spent.  It doesn’t say, before taking people in, make that they aren’t dangerous.  It says:  these people are in trouble.  Do something.  Yourself.  Now.

I find this incredibly hard.  Because—darnit—I know it’s right, but as it is, my life is busy and I have people in my life whom I love, and it’s my job to protect them and spend time with them and take care of them.  And it’s easy for me to become afraid that my taking care of other people will result in my not properly honoring my relationship with the people I love most. 

I learned from my colleague in Calgary Rabbi Mark Glickman, who offered in the name of his teacher Rabbi Ben Hollander, about two back-to-back verses from our parasha: 

First, v’ger lo tonu, v’lo til’chatzeinu, ki gerim hayyitem b’Eretz Mitzrayim, “you shall not wrong or oppress a stranger because you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Exod. 22:20).  Take care of the stranger because you have been a stranger.  That is:  I may not remember being a slave in Egypt, exactly, but I’ve spent plenty of time (I assume we all have) feeling like the odd one out; feeling alone when others around me seemed to have so many connections.  Of course I have had the experience of being a stranger.  It’s my job to be compassionate and to take care of others who are having the same experience—or an even worse experience.

Then, in the next verse, the Torah says, Do not mistreat [those in need] because if you do mistreat them, I will heed their outcry when they cry out to Me—and I will do to you what I did to the Egyptians when I freed you from Egypt (Exod. 20:21-23).

Now, I don’t have a way to know if the story of the Exodus happened in exactly every detail of how the Torah describes it.  And, the God I have a relationship with is not a God in the business of punishing people.  But, what I know is that tables can turn.  God forbid that those I love should be in danger, but I know I feel a need to create a system where, if anything did happen to me, that those without protections in our society would have a safety net, because what if my own children were those without protections?

So, Rabbi Glickman taught in the name of Rabbi Hollander, the Torah says:  take care of the vulnerable in our society out of compassion, or do it out of fear—but, by God, says God, it’s our job to do it.

When you see even your enemy’s ox or donkey wandering, you must take it back to them (Exod. 22:4).

Remember that you know the feelings of a stranger (Exod. 22:9)

The one who mistreats a someone in need, may themselves be in need someday too (based on Exod. 22:21-23)

So many of us here have opinions on how to get there, and we do not all agree with each other on the specifics of what we need to do.  However, when we vote in the primaries on March 3 (and, whatever your political party, this is a reminder that your vote counts) our parasha teaches that is worth noting whether it is compassion or fear that motivates us.  And, Purim, which is in just a couple of weeks, teaches us that whoever extends their hand to us, whatever their circumstances, we are supposed to give whatever we are asked to give.  And, Mishpatim reminds us, whether we are driven by compassion or fear in that moment, our responsibility is the same:  to take care of each other in God’s magnificent creation, whether they are us or those we fear to be.

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