Parshat Mishpatim: I Shall Be Released

 As we sit around the Seder table on the Seder night(s), how many of us really consider the phrase: ‘Avadim Hayinu LePharaoh Bemizrayim’ – ‘We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt?’

I would bet ‘a Shabbat-friendly wager’ (if there were such a thing) that we probably don't give it much thought.  We like singing the tune of ‘avadim hayinuuuuu hayinu’ and look forward to the meal, which will arrive eventually, depending on how much effort we put into retelling the story of the Exodus...and watching the faces of our family and friends longing for us to 'get on with it' - before the inevitable 'so, when do we eat?' question arises.

But it's not an easy topic to discuss. We were slaves and we came out of Egypt. Seven weeks later, we were standing at the foot of Sinai and receiving the Ten Commandments from the Almighty.  Then Moshe went up the mountain and some of what he learned up there forms the bulk of this week's Parsha.

Exodus 21:1-5

These are the laws that you shall set before them:

If you buy a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years, but in the seventh he shall go forth free, without paying anything.

If he came alone, he shall leave alone; but if he was a married man, his wife shall leave with him.

If his master gave him a wife, and she bore his sons or daughters, the woman and her children shall remain her master's, while he shall leave alone.

No sooner has Gd told us how he took the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery, than he's dictating laws to Moshe about how they will have to treat Hebrew slaves.  It seems incongruous that our nation, who celebrates its annual festival of freedom, was being instructed on returning to such a state.  After all, isn't one person in slavery a slave too many?

Let us also remember that the Israelites were also given laws relating to their ownership of non-Hebrew slaves.

As we read a few weeks ago:

Exodus 12:43-45

The Lord said to Moshe and Aharon: This is the law of the Passover sacrifice: No foreigner may eat of it.)  But any slave who has been acquired for money and circumcised may eat of it.  No Gentile resident or hired labourer may eat of it.

To understand the context of these laws, one should appreciate that the disturbing nature of slavery is not a new phenomenon.  It has sadly existed for thousands of years.  It was only in the mid-19th Century in the young country we call America, that brothers and cousins, friends and neighbours went to war to fight for the freedom of the African slaves who were living and dying under brutal conditions in the Southern plantations.

How do we find a way to accommodate the Torah's seeming acceptance of the shameful practice with our own liberation from Egypt?  Perhaps a starting point is to study the next few verses at the start of the Parsha regarding the Hebrew slave.

In this verse, the Torah is defining a slave’s status and, in the process, demonstrating how the servitude in Egypt was very different to the type being described here.  In effect, the Torah is prescribing the idea that such a slave was akin to a member of the family, albeit with certain constraints.

Exodus 21:5-6

But if the slave declares, “I love my master, and my wife and my children: I do not want to go free,” his master shall bring him before Gd.  He shall take him to the door or the doorpost, and pierce his ear with an awl; after that he shall remain his slave forever.

The Torah is telling us something extraordinary. Unlike other slaves in history, this person is being given the chance to gain the one request that is withheld from his Gentile peers.  He is being granted his freedom (with the proviso that the wife provided by the master and their offspring therein will remain behind).  However, in all other circumstances, he has the choice to walk out of the door as a free man.  

If he stays, he does so of his own will and literally bears the sign of having given up this opportunity.

The Torah later tells us in the Book of Vayikra:

Leviticus 25:39-41

 If your brother becomes poor and sells himself to you, do not work him as a slave.  He shall abide with you like a hired worker or a resident worker and work with you until the jubilee year.  Then he and his children with him shall be free to leave you and return to his family and their ancestral land.  For they are my servants whom I brought out of Egypt: they cannot be sold as slaves.

In a society where slavery was endemic, something different was taking place. Sadly, slavery was embedded both within Israelite society and beyond it but the Torah took a unique viewpoint.  This still doesn't answer the troubling question of how Jews were commanded to treat Gentile slaves.  On the one hand, they could be brought into the Covenant of Jacob through circumcision.  They would then have the right to partake of the Korban Pesach (Paschal Offering) but was there a 'code of conduct' our ancestors had to abide by.

The Rambam sheds some light on this:

Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Avadim (The Laws regarding Slaves) 8:12

When a person purchases a slave from a gentile without making a stipulation beforehand, and the slave does not desire to be circumcised or to accept the mitzvot incumbent upon slaves, he is given leeway for twelve months.  If at the end of this period, he still does not desire, the master must sell him to a gentile or to the diaspora.  If the slave made a stipulation with the master at the outset that he did not have to circumcise himself, the owner may maintain him as a gentile for as long as he desires and may sell him to a gentile or the diaspora....

The Rambam's solution to our quandary is steeped in an understanding of human nature.  At a time when slaves were treated by some masters as subhuman, his sensitivity to the feelings of the subject are commensurate with the Torah's humane approach.  It is no wonder that we flinch when we hear of man's inhumanity to his fellow.

Nearly sixty years ago on 28th August 1963, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, Reverend Martin Luther King said:

"I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood...I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.  I have a dream today."

Numerous Jews including Rabbis Abraham Joshua Heschel, Joachim Prinz and Uri Miller (who recited a prayer before his speech) stood alongside Dr King.  They testified to the vision that he shared.  In doing so, they demonstrated what Judaism is all about.

As Bob Dylan, a man who is famous for using Biblical metaphors sang:

I see my light come shining
From the west down to the east
Any day now, any day now
I shall be released.

This is the wish for all who are enslaved is it not?

As Jews, we stood up against racial prejudice in America, Apartheid in South Africa and attempted genocide in Bosnia, Rwanda and now China.  If the Torah can find a way to somehow give biblical slaves a chance of freedom, perhaps, it can instruct us as to how we can tackle some of this century's other divisive issues.

It's certainly something to consider whilst we wait to tuck into our Hillel sandwich.

Shavuah Tov.

Parshat Yitro: Our Righteous Gentile

"Infamy, infamy, they've all got it in-for-me!"

Kenneth Williams' famous (or should it be infamous?) quote from ‘Carry on Cleo’ could equally be applied to Jewish history.

'The Longest Hatred' which was characterised by the cowardly and brutal attack of the Amalekites on the Israelite women and children at the tail end of last week's Parsha, was in evidence yet again last Shabbat in the Beth Israel Synagogue of Colleyville, Texas. Thank Gd this time, our brethren were not harmed. There seems to exist an unending chain that links both attacks across five millennia. The longest hatred does not appear to be in any rush to distance itself from our nation in the past, present or future.

It is easy to think that 'they', whoever the current flavour of antisemitism takes on the ancient mantle happens to be, do 'have it in-for-us'. The thought of which is understandably concerning and deeply troubling.

I don't think it is a coincidence that the final verse of last week's Parsha tells us that "The Lord will be at war with Amalek throughout the ages" and Parshat Yitro's first verse, relates how "Moshe's father-in-Law, Yitro, priest of Midyan heard about all that Gd had done for Moshe and for His people Israel when the Lord brought Israel out of Egypt."

Rashi adds that he had also heard about how Amalek had been vanquished (albeit temporarily) and this was included in his admiration for the nascent Israelites. The Torah refers to him as being Moshe's father-in-law to demonstrate how highly he was regarded by its Divine author.

I would even go so far as claiming Yitro to be one of the first Righteous Gentiles for his having recognised the significance of both Gd and the Israelites, despite not being of the faith himself.

The Torah juxtaposes two extreme ends of the human spectrum. Those who hate the Jews and want to commit genocide against them and those who love and admire the same nation. It is a theme that has been re-enacted again and again throughout the ages and particularly within living memory. It is not by accident that Yad Vashem recognizes the 'chasidei umot ha'olam' in the dedicated 'avenue and garden' memorials they have created within the heart of the museum.

In a few days' time, we will be commemorating Holocaust Memorial Day. It is a painful time for all the remaining survivors and their descendants. Perhaps the knowledge that despite the evil and sadistic machinations of the Amalekites we call the Nazis (yimach shemam – may their names be wiped out), there were also many Yitros who could have joined in the massacres, but instead chose to bravely risk and sometimes lose their lives to protect the descendants of the Israelites - our people.

Righteous Gentiles like Irene Sendler, a Polish Catholic social worker and nurse, who, with her compatriots, saved 2,500 children from the Warsaw Ghetto or Oskar Shindler whose list saved 1,100 Jews in Kraków-Płaszów.

How about Raoul Wallenberg, unseen and unheard of since 1945 and probably executed by the Russians in 1947? He saved around 100,000 Jews in Hungary.

They are but three of the 27,712 'Righteous Amongst the Nations' recognised by Yad Vashem (as of 1st January 2020) and they hail from a staggering 51 countries.

However, I would like to tell you about my own Righteous Gentile. She is not amongst that list of honourees although my mother ensured that she was recognised by Yad Vashem for her bravery. Her name was Michelle Debatty.

The following is taken from my mother’s memoirs that were collated a few years before her passing.

The family consisted of my mother and my uncle Romeo, my grandparents, two great-aunts and my great-grandfather after whom I am named. Due to my grandfather having been born in Sydney, my mother, uncle and their parents were protected from harm as they had British passports, despite the Nazis knowing that they were Jewish.

My great-aunts and great-grandfather were hidden as they were Polish and had no such protection.

The family lived in a villa in Spa, near the German border and engaged an 18-year-old Catholic girl, named Michelle who had the responsibility of looking after the children in case my grandparents were deported. The Jews of Belgium were sent to Auschwitz.

The family was told that if anything happened to my grandparents, Michelle would place my mother in a convent and Romeo in a monastery. Michelle was the eldest of a large family living in the town.

My grandfather joined the Resistance and that took him out a lot although he continued to keep Kosher. The Resistance was a clandestine organisation where mostly young old men from Spa and the rest of the region were fighting the Germans.

My grandfather had a wireless radio hidden under the staircase and would listen to it at certain times of the day. The signal was always the same. They would say, ‘Ici Londres’ (‘Here is London’) followed by the regular signal, which was the first few beats from Beethoven’s 5th Symphony. The sentences spoken made absolutely no sense. For instance, “The nightingale will sing tonight” or, “There are cows in the fields.” However, my grandfather understood these messages which were of crucial importance for the Resistance. From him they’d send their coded messages along the line to British pilots, secret agents, and resistance fighters.

He passed on the coded messages through Michelle to non-Jewish people all over the countryside and then they knew what was going on. My grandfather who obviously spoke English fluently, as it was his mother tongue, was able to decipher the bizarre messages sent through the BBC in London and he was the first one to know about D-Day. He then passed the translated news around all the farms via Michelle. She memorised his translations and delivered them to the Resistance by bicycle. For her to be caught would have been a death sentence.

There was a decree that all the Jews [in hiding] in Spa were ordered to leave the town to go to work in Germany. Michelle’s brother, Andre, was the postmaster in Spa. He too joined the Resistance and saved my great- grandfather and great-aunts by putting a cross next to the list of Jews living in Spa, pretending they had died. This saved their lives as all the other Jewish families were deported to the concentration camps. These were very difficult times and it is the way my mother and uncle grew up, amid the Nazis and some collaborators.

To my mother, Michelle was a third parent and happily, they were reunited through my uncle's efforts to locate her before my cousin Joshua's barmitzvah in 1987. They stayed in touch until Michelle's death only a few years ago when she was in her early nineties. I had the pleasure and privilege of meeting her numerous times and she accompanied my mother and me back to Spa nearly thirty years ago when we visited the town she had grown up in. The trip was also particularly memorable for an American friend who came along and whose father had been in one of the battalions that liberated Belgium and France after D-Day.

My uncle recalls how, on the morning of Sunday 10th September 1944, he and Michelle went to greet the American Army as they entered Spa to liberate the town. They ran down the hill towards the main road and saw a GI in a jeep using a Walkie-Talkie. When he spoke to him, my uncle couldn't understand his Southern drawl (after all, he was only nine-and-a-half). As a child who was always interested in becoming a doctor (and who became a world-renowned Cardiologist), he thought that the soldier had a jaw impediment until he realised that he was chewing some gum.

Michelle was there alongside him. She was so much part of the family that, after more than sixty years, she could still recite the Shema (with the proper cantillation) and knew the words and tune to the Benching. She was a very special lady. One of a kind and our own Righteous Gentile.

Had she been caught for what she did, she would no doubt have been killed and Gd knows what would have happened to the family. Would they have been hidden or would they have met the fate of so many other Jewish children?

Sometimes, it is easy to think that, as Bilaam stated, “We are a nation that dwells alone.” There are those around us who sadly do wish us harm and who sometimes tragically succeed in achieving their murderous plans. But we should not forget that there are many, many people who value our presence in the greater society and marvel at our extraordinary achievements and stubborn resilience!

On the Shabbat when we read firstly about Yitro and then recount the extraordinary events at Mount Sinai and the giving of the Torah, let us remember those who, in the darkest recesses of history remembered us and express our deepest gratitude and appreciation. Simply put, we owe them nothing less than our lives.

Shabbat Shalom.

Parshat Bo: Shards of Sunlight

Exodus 10:22-23

Moses held out his arm toward the sky and thick darkness descended upon all the land of Egypt for three days. People could not see one another, and for three days no one could get up from where he was; but all the Israelites enjoyed light in their dwellings.

Ibn Ezra (1089-1167)

'No one could get up from where he was': From his house, as in 'let no man leave his place' (Ex. 16:29). For where could they go without light?

“We feel really privileged to have the conversations we do about mental health, and also the variety of places we travel to, and the people we get to meet.”

Johnny Benjamin is quoted discussing his extraordinary work with Neil Laybourn, the man who, in 2008, convinced him not to jump off Waterloo Bridge. In doing so, Neil literally saved Johnny's life.

In 2017, JAMI, the Jewish Association for the Mentally Ill, designated the Saturday on which we read Parshat Bo as its Mental Health Awareness Shabbat. Referring to the ninth plague and its impact on the Egyptians, it is easy to understand why this week's Parsha is particularly applicable. This year especially resonates for me, as its theme is 'Mental Health in a Changing World'. I cannot envisage a more apt subject of discussion as I have witnessed it myself in my capacity as a high school teacher in not one, but two very different schools. I am also the son of an elderly man living in a Jewish Care home which provides round-the-clock dementia care for its residents.

A short while ago, two of my daughters and I visited my father. Due to the latest Covid restrictions, we were unable to meet with him on a face-to-face basis. We had to sit in a glass fronted 'pod' that had been constructed in the corner of a large room that also functions as the Shul. We entered it from an external courtyard to ensure that no physical contact could take place. We talked to each other using hand-held walkie-talkies, the type used to monitor babies. My father's first reaction was to ask why we couldn't meet properly and we could see that he was distressed about the lack of physical contact. To be honest, we felt as though we were visiting a prisoner in jail. Although we did have a wonderful experience talking and reminiscing with him, I can only imagine how isolated he felt. I know that we did too.

During the various lockdowns over the past two years I, like other teachers, taught from the comfort of my home. This consisted of communicating through my computer screen to students who were sometimes struggling to access the necessary equipment to keep up with their education. When I wasn't teaching, I was calling home to check up on their wellbeing and general mental health. The discussions I had with parents were often heart-breaking. I heard about their children who were suffering through not being able to meet friends and maintain the kind of social relationships that are key to a young person's emotional development.

I heard stories of some children who didn't want to leave their homes (and in some cases, confined apartments) as they had been so traumatised by the constrictive effects of those lockdowns. Others suffered immensely when they returned to school as they couldn't cope with the stress caused by the overall situation.

Another group of children came to school and realised that they would rather be at home, thus impacting on their ability to bounce back and return to the kind of ‘normality’ we take for granted.

In my current school we, the staff and children, are still impacted by the trauma of the last two years. No one is really certain of what will happen in terms of a return to academic 'normality'. How will our children, the next generation, be able to rebuild their trust in a world that has changed so drastically since they entered education?

If I, a person who is thank Gd not impacted by mental health problems, am struggling, I don't know how a young child, teenager, adult or a senior citizen like my father can move forward, if they are not so fortunate. Like the Egyptians in our Parsha, could we really blame them for not being able to move as a result of the inner darkness they are facing?

It is not difficult to become despondent granted all of these factors. If this situation had manifested itself some twenty years ago or earlier, there would have been very little help available. Mental health was certainly not a term that I had heard of when I was in school. We all knew someone who was sadly impacted and there were different pathways that they were advised to take. However, it wasn't a topic that came up easily in conversation.

Fortunately, times have changed. This sixth annual Shabbat and its highlighting of a once taboo subject has become ingrained in our consciousness - and rightfully so.

Instead of, as the old saying states, ‘pushing it under the carpet’, we bring it to the fore. Literally yanking it from the deepest darkness into the brightest sunlight.

Johnny, a former JFS student and his lifelong friend Neil are at the vanguard of the fight to banish old stereotypes to the 'dustbin of history'. Where they could have stood still, like the Egyptians, they chose to travel far and wide and give hope to others.

JAMI, in its incredible work provides light and opportunities to the numerous people of all ages in our communities who thought that they were living in darkness…who thought that no-one was there to help them.

Please click here to support the invaluable work that they do. Chief Rabbi Mirvis has recorded a moving video on their site which I heartily recommend you view.

Our commentators explain that although the Egyptians were paralysed both metaphorically and physically by the darkness, the Israelites enjoyed light in their dwellings. After three days, the Egyptian darkness ended and they too could glimpse the daylight.

Johnny Nash famously sang that he could see that the ‘dark clouds were gone and it would be a bright, bright sun-shining day'.

Overcoming mental illness can take many forms and the road is frequently long and arduous. However, the smallest shard of sunlight piercing the darkness can remind one even momentarily that they are not on their own. My colleagues and I throughout the word will never give up on helping our students face their demons and work towards achieving their potential.

Thank you, JAMI, Johnny and Neil, for being some of those shards who inspire and fortify the rest of us.

Shabbat Shalom.

Parshat Va’era: Happy New Shanah

Shabbat Shalom dear friends.

I'm in a quandary. Today is the first of January, but I don't know what to wish you.

I could utter the usual greeting for the day which is of course, “Happy New Year” but to be honest, I feel a little strange saying these words to my fellow Jews, in Shul from the pulpit, with a great deal of conviction.

After all, we've already wished each other this sentiment when we said, "Shanah Tovah" last September as we entered our New Year. Tomorrow night is Rosh Chodesh Shevat, the fifth month of our year! Were it not for our adding a second Adar to our luach/calendar, as it's a leap year next month, the end of Adar Rishon and particularly Rosh Chodesh Nissan would mark the year's half-way point. I don't know about you, but I think it is bad form to wish someone a Shanah Tovah halfway through the year!

We know that today marks the first day of Two Thousand and Twenty-Two (2022) in the 'Year of Our Lord' , AD - Anno Domini, so wishing my fellow Jews a meaningful Happy New Year does seem inappropriate. Additionally, today's Gregorian date is based on the solar calendar and as we know, we follow the lunar cycle.

You can see that I am in a bit of a conundrum!

Perhaps, a way to untangle the problem begins with understanding what the term 'Shanah Tovah' really means. Although we translate it figuratively as 'Happy New Year', it literally means 'A Good Year', which of course conveys the message of the greeting. I may wish you in all sincerity a ‘Happy New Year’, but I don't only want you to have a 'happy' period of twelve months.

There is only so much happiness one can be blessed with until the reality of life's challenges and obstacles provides us with a 'reality check'. Rather, I am wishing you a 'good new year' because that implies the notion that I would like you to encounter a year that is memorable for the right reasons.

Happiness is a transitory state of being. It is an emotion that can change quickly, whereas, if things are good, they exceed the moment and provide us with a deep sense of appreciation. We count our blessings, sometimes when we're happy and perhaps, at times when things are not going so well in our lives.

If we delve into the etymology of the word 'Shanah', we find that the root of the word is Shin - Nun -Hay. According to some scholars, The Tanach uses the word in two ways, one to mean 'repetition' and the other could signify 'change'.

Discussing the concept of repetition, Mitchell First, an eminent writer (https://www.thetorah.com/author/mitchell-first) points out that the Hebrew word for the number 'two' is sheni, which is the repetition of a number. Similarly so, we refer to the Book of Devarim as Mishneh Torah - literally a repetition of the Torah, as much of the book follows this structure.

There is a view by some people that the word 'Shanah' refers to 'change' (see Ernest Klein's ‘A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language’) who believe that this refers to the seasons of the year which change periodically as the verb 'Le-shanot' is translated as 'to change'.

However, many prominent Rabbis including the Radak, Rav Shamshon Raphael Hirsch and the Ramchal follow the previous definition. I would tend to agree, granted that we re-read the Torah on an annual basis, which follows this logic. Additionally, the idea of repetition is built into our psyche. If not, why would I repeat the same prayers three times a day and a fourth time on Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh and Yom Tov (setting aside the five prayers of Yom Kippur). To really know something, you need to repeat it continuously.

Returning to our discussion, it does seem as though, when we wish each other a Shanah Tovah, at least on a literal level, we are hoping that the person we speak to will be blessed with a similar year to the last - but only in repeating the positive elements - hence the 'tovah' addition.

Fortunately, using the Hebrew obviates our clumsily wishing each other a 'Happy Year that will bring you the same 'good' memories and events which reflect those of the year that has just concluded!'

I do think though, there is another element that we can consider in the greeting.

Examining this week's Parsha which vividly describes our bondage in Egypt along with the first seven plagues, The Mishnah (which also comes from the same root) in Eduyot (2.10) informs us that Rabbi Akiva said a number of things that last twelve months:

The judgment of the generation of the flood

The judgment of Job

The judgment of the Egyptians [which included the plagues]

I wouldn't have wished whichever Pharaoh was in command a 'Happy New Year' on the day he went for his daily dip into the Nile! What did happen was that Gd repeatedly sent the plagues to Pharaoh and his people as often as he (Pharoah) repeated his own behaviour by firstly agreeing to let the Bnei Yisrael leave and then changing his mind. I would say that in his case, both possible meanings of the word apply!

As Jews, we have suffered a great deal over the millennia, at a time when a new solar year ushered in a period of calamity. On the 20th of January 1942 (i.e nearly eighty years ago), a meeting in the Berlin suburb of Wannsee took place between fifteen senior Nazi Government Officials. These included Heydrich and Eichmann (yimach shemam - may their names be blotted out) and these resha’im (evil men) sealed the fate of Europe's Jews. In only 87 minutes of time based on the solar calendar.

The horrors that faced our people during the Second World War were repeated on a daily basis for numerous years and it was even longer for those living in Germany. Would we have wished anyone a 'Happy New Year' on 1st January in any of those years? Yet, I guarantee that every Rosh Hashanah without fail, we said Shanah Tovah to each other in the hope that the brief sparks of goodness from the previous year would shatter the darkness that would possibly continue to envelop our nation. We said our greeting and hummed the Hatikvah in the hope that our situation would imminently improve.

Life has been generally good to us here in the UK for over three-hundred-and-fifty years. Sometimes we were happy and sometimes we were not, but we could do worse than wish each other a Shanah Tovah and hope that the coming year would bring us a repeat of the tolerance and respect of our non-Jewish neighbours and the continuing protection of the Crown.

Let us read this week's Torah portion and appreciate how, when compared to the enslaved Bnei Yisrael we, their descendants, are able to live in freedom. The Promised Land is not a forty-year journey through the desert and hopefully, we will be able to return there (in four-and-a-half hours) once our own Covid plague is vanquished.

As we face the new year of 2022 and continue our journey through the latter part of 5782, may I wish you, not a 'Happy New Year' but a positive period of time, encompassing the lunar and solar calendars in which we are blessed with good health and peace and may we all witness the coming of Moshiach, may he arrive speedily in our days.

Shabbat Shalom and Chodesh Tov for Shevat!