Summarized by Shmuel Fuchs
Translated by David Strauss
Parashat Ki Tetze, the last of the parashot comprising Moshe's speech about the commandments in Sefer Devarim, is heavily laden with mitzvot. In fact, it is the parasha with the greatest number of mitzvot in the Torah. At first glance, the commandments in this parasha seem to have no common denominator; it is as if they were simply crammed in at the last minute.
This, however, is not the case. There are several common denominators in the parasha, and we will focus on one especially important theme: acts of lovingkindness and going beyond the letter of the law, especially on the personal (as opposed to communal) level.
Thus, there is a clear difference between our parasha and the preceding parasha of Shoftim: the previous parasha dealt with public offices and functions, such as the Sanhedrin, the king, the priest anointed for war, and so on; in our parasha, the discussion relates to the level of the individual.
This difference expresses itself not only in the content of the commandments, but also in their tenor. The previous parasha described going out to war as an uplifting and idealistic communal undertaking; our parasha, in contrast, opens with the law of the captive woman, which relates to the individual soldier and instructs him how to deal with a frightened civilian population and how to treat the wretched and lonely woman who has fallen into captivity.
The special emphasis in our parasha can be seen clearly when we compare two different formulations of the commandments of returning lost property and assisting in the unloading and loading of an animal. In Parashat Mishpatim, these mitzvot are formulated as follows:
If you meet your enemy's ox or his donkey going astray, you shall surely bring it back to him. If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden, and you [would] refrain from unloading it, you shall surely unload it with him. (Shemot 23:4-5)
But in our parasha, the wording is different:
You shall not see your brother's ox or his sheep lost (nidachim), and hide yourself from them; you shall surely bring them back to your brother. And if your brother is not near to you, and you do not know him, then you shall bring it home to your house, and it shall be with you until your brother seeks it, and you shall restore it to him. And so shall you do with his donkey, and so shall you do with his garment, and so shall you do with every lost thing (aveidat) of your brother's, which he has lost, and you have found; you may not hide yourself. You shall not see your brother's donkey or his ox fallen down by the way, and hide yourself from them; you shall surely help him to lift [them] up again. (Devarim 22:1-4)
How different are the two passages! In Mishpatim, we are dealing with a person whom you do not love and for whom you have no special compassion; you are obligated to return his property to him, for it is his – but that is the sole reason. In our parasha, we are dealing with "your brother," for whom you do have compassion and concern. From a monetary perspective, you may not be obligated to return the lost property – the animal is not merely "astray" (to'eh), but "lost" (nidach). There is no likelihood of it returning to its owner, and it is reasonable to assume that the owner has despaired of recovering it. And yet, you are still obligated to make every effort to return it.
The obligation to care for our brethren beyond what is required by monetary law also finds expression in the laws of a pledge:
When you lend your neighbor any manner of loan, you shall not go [in]to his house to fetch his pledge. You shall stand outside, and the man to whom you lent shall bring the pledge outside to you. And if he is poor, you shall not sleep with his pledge; you shall surely restore the pledge to him when the sun goes down, that he may sleep in his garment, and bless you; and it shall be righteousness to you before the Lord your God… Do not pervert the justice [due to] the stranger [or to the] fatherless, and do not take a widow's garment as a pledge. (Devarim 24:10-13, 17)
There is no real legal justification for these restrictions – the Gemara (Bava Metzia 22b) learns from verse 13 that "the creditor acquires the pledge," but nevertheless, we are enjoined to adopt a special path of kindness toward our brothers and sisters.
Similarly, regarding the prohibition of taking interest:
You shall not lend upon interest to your brother: interest of money, interest of food, interest of anything that is lent upon interest. To a foreigner you may lend upon interest, but to your brother you shall not lend upon interest, so that the Lord your God will bless you in all that you put your hand to, in the land to which you are coming to possess it. (Devarim 23:20-21)
Interest is not theft. There is no essential difference between charging a fee for the use of one's land or other property and charging a fee for the use of his money. After all, if it were considered to be causing financial injury, how could it be permissible to take interest from a non-Jew?! Clearly, this prohibition was enacted with the intention of protecting the weak and the poor (those are the people who take out loans in the Torah's reality, not millionaires who apply for a line of credit from the bank); since they are our brothers, we are obligated to go beyond the letter of the law for them.
There is a well-known story in the Gemara about porters who were hired to transport a barrel but were negligent, such that the barrel broke. Rav ruled that they were exempt from paying for the damage, and even obligated the owner of the barrel to pay their wages:
Some porters [negligently] broke a barrel of wine belonging to Rabba bar bar Chanan. He seized their garments [as payment]; so they went and told Rav. He said to him: Return their garments to them. He asked: Is that the law? He answered: Yes – "that you may walk in the way of good [people]" (Mishlei 2:21). He gave them back their garments. They said to him: We are poor men, have worked all day, and are in need; are we to get nothing? He said to him: Go and pay them. He said to him: Is that the law? He answered: Yes – "and keep the path of the righteous" (ibid.). (Bava Metzia 83a)
The principles of our parasha, of going beyond the letter of the law and showing concern for our weaker brothers, are presented here as an absolute imperative that cannot be ignored.
Harav Amital ztz"l would often emphasize the obligation to be attentive to the plight of the individual, and not only to the woes of the community. We learn this from Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai (as recounted in Gittin 56b): when he stood before the Roman ruler after escaping from the besieged city of Jerusalem, he asked for only three things – one of which was "doctors for Rabbi Tzadok," who had taken on many fasts as part of his prayer for the welfare of Jerusalem. Even as we are engaged in grappling with a national crisis, we must not ignore the plight of the individual.
This is particularly significant at this time, when we are confronted with economic difficulties that severely affect certain sectors of society. Consideration of the needs of the whole people, with an eye to the future, is important and precious, but it must not prevent us from hearing the voice of the weeping elderly, the individuals whose world has been turned upside down. In such a time of distress, we must support them as much as possible and act in their regard beyond the letter of the law, which is in essence a strict obligation.
[This sicha was delivered by Harav Mosheh Lichtenstein on Shabbat Parashat Ki Tetze 5780.]
(Edited by Sarah Rudolph)
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