וְזָכַרְתָּ֗ כִּ֣י עֶ֤בֶד הָיִ֙יתָ֙ בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם וַֽיִּפְדְּךָ֛ ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ מִשָּׁ֑ם עַל־כֵּ֞ן אָנֹכִ֤י מְצַוְּךָ֙ לַעֲשׂ֔וֹת אֶת־הַדָּבָ֖ר הַזֶּֽה
Remember that you were a slave in Egypt and that your God ה redeemed you from there; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment. (Deut. 24.18)
Our teacher Gershon Winkler has pointed out that the Hebrew word for Jew, עברי ivri, can be translated as “boundary crosser.” During Elul, when we prepare to be reminded of all the times we’ve transgressed, it’s interesting to consider when crossing a line is the correct and just act, and when it’s a betrayal of integrity. When is blasting through a “red line” the only way forward, and when is it a step too far into the realm of evil?
לֹא־תַעֲשֹׁ֥ק שָׂכִ֖יר עָנִ֣י וְאֶבְי֑וֹן מֵאַחֶ֕יךָ א֧וֹ מִגֵּרְךָ֛ אֲשֶׁ֥ר בְּאַרְצְךָ֖ בִּשְׁעָרֶֽיךָ
You shall not abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow Israelite or a stranger in one of the communities of your land. (Deut. 24.14)
For our ancestors, the idea of treating a stranger and a fellow Israelite the same could have been a real boundary smasher, if once upon a time our loyalty was only to members of our own tribe. Here, in the first line of our parashah according to the third year of the Triennial Cycle, Torah integrity reaches beyond the relative to declare that all human beings are equal.
The name of our parashah this week translates as “when you go out”; since next week’s is named “when you come in” the two are often paired to make a point. What is a mezuzah, if not a reminder to be true to yourself and your G!d when you are out in community and when you are in your home? What is integrity, if not being the same inside (your thoughts) and outside (your words and acts)?
The watchword we are meant to keep as Jews when we go out and when we come in is this:
כִּ֣י ה֤וּא חַיֶּ֙יךָ֙ וְאֹ֣רֶךְ יָמֶ֔יךָ
HaShem is your life and the length of your days (Deut. 30.20)
Keeping the mitzvot before us at all times, when we go out and when we come in, is precisely what we are instructed in the Shema which we are to repeat daily. This is our mantra. There is none else.
By this measure, we are boundary crossers when we hold on to our integrity in word and act when all about us is falling into evil. And by this measure, we make a choice: if Torah is at the heart of Jewish existence, then it is more important than anything else, and it should guide our acts at all times. This is what we repeat whenever we take the Torah out to read from it:
עֵץ־חַיִּ֣ים הִ֭יא לַמַּחֲזִיקִ֣ים בָּ֑הּ וְֽתֹמְכֶ֥יהָ מְאֻשָּֽׁר
She is a tree of life to those who grasp her, and whoever holds on to her is happy. (Proverbs 3.18)
“Happy” may seem a stretch, until you understand that it doesn’t mean glee; it means that you are free from the self- and communal torture of meaninglessness.
With Torah as our plumb line, we can identify what is just and what is right, and with the teachings of our Sages, we can reach a meaningful and community-building place in which we can explore disagreement about justice. Anything that falls short of compassion must, by this measure, be mistaken, and open to further discernment.
No one of us should be made to feel unwelcome because we are heartsick over the actions of the state of Israel, that calls itself the Jewish state. It is a gaslighting of tremendous magnitude to tell each other that we must be unified, no matter what the state does, in our support of it, and that public criticism of Israel is a red line we must not cross. And this month of Elul is the best time of all for us to check ourselves: are we supportive of Torah in our midst, or of lies of unity that mock truth and cruelly tear our communities apart? Or are we willing to cross the boundaries of communal fear and trauma to hold on to the source of life, and each other?
Torah for the 21st Century by Rabbi Ariel Stone 