Parshat Mishpatim: Careful what you worship

Parshat Mishpatim concerns itself primary with civil law – proper financial practices, resolutions for civil disputes, rules of conduct for courts – and yet it also includes the following verse prohibiting the worship of other gods: “Be on guard concerning all that I have told you. Make no mention of the names of other gods; they shall not be heard on your lips.”1 The Ten Commandments given in the previous parsha already clearly outlawed the worship of any other gods or the creation of idols. Rashi comments on this verse with the following point. He juxtaposes the two sentences in verse 13 and cites the Gemura: “‘be heedful in respect of everything that I have spoken to you’ with ‘and the names of other gods you shall not mention’ is intended to teach you that the practise of idol-worship is of equal heinousness as though one had infringed every command (cf. Horayot 8a); and that one who avoids it may be regarded as though he had observed every one of them (cf. Chullin 5a).”2

What? The Torah clearly stresses the severity of idol worship, but for the Gemura to say that if one worships idols it is as though one infringed every commandment seems slightly hyperbolic. Further, how can the Gemura say that when one denies idol worship it is as though he observed every one of the commandments? Either one observed the commandments or they did not; certainly there is merit to be had for rejecting idol worship, but it seems preposterous to say that it warrants the merit of keeping all the other commandments.

I believe this verse highlights a deeper truth contained in the parsha – when one truly embraces the commandment to not have the name of other gods on one’s lips, one essentially protects oneself from any desire to transgress any of the other prohibitions. This is because this parsha deals almost entirely with laws relating our relationship to physicality – do this with your money, handle your property like this, don’t eat that, lend without interest. These laws establish limitations over our property, our things, and it is upon our things that we often bestow godly power.

What is a god but something that we believe will deliver us? We were created imperfectly, with lackings. The Ramchal in Derech Hashem writes:

“Therefore He decreed and arranged that the matters of perfection and the matters of deficiency be created; and a creature [man] be created that would have the equal possibility of acquiring both; and that this creature be given the capacity to acquire the perfections and remove the deficiencies from itself. And then it would happen that it would become similar to its Creator according to its capability; and it would be fitting to cleave to Him and to benefit from His goodness.”3

We, by definition, were created with deficiencies and we yearn to transcend them towards perfection. Hashem gave us the capacity to connect with Him and He gave us Torah – both methods for us to use in removing our deficiencies and moving towards perfection. Without the proper avenues towards addressing these deficiencies, we naturally turn towards other things that we believe will do the trick. Those things we turn to become our gods.

These gods hold power over us for we bestow upon them the power to deliver us. We sacrifice to them – our time, our energy, our happiness, our relationships – and in the end, we hope they will give to us what we lack. Ironically, it is often exactly that which we sacrifice that we hope that they will deliver. But just because we worship them does not make them powerful. We remind ourselves of this three times a day in the Aleinu prayer when we thank Hashem for not making us like the other nations:

שֶׁהֵם מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לְהֶבֶל וָרִיק, וּמִתְפַּלְּלִים אֶל אֵל לֹֹא יוֹשִׁיע

(for they bow down to vanity and emptiness and pray to a god that does not deliver).

These gods cannot deliver for they are not real gods. Anyone who has chased them before, which, to various degrees, is all of us, knows that they aren’t. They might be able to satisfy physical lack, but they don’t have the power to deliver us what we spiritually lack. They don’t make us happy. They don’t give us security or peace of mind, meaning or purpose.

The laws in Mishpatim don’t only remind us of this point, but they also put in place guardrails. The laws provide a pragmatic approach to checking the corrupting influence of things. The Torah writes “do not take bribes, for bribes blind the clear-sighted…”4 reminding us that even those among us who see truth clearly can become blinded by greed and want. Thus, Hashem put in place conditions so that we might never forget that it is Hashem who rules and not that which we have. “When you acquire a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years; in the seventh year he shall go free, without payment.”5 This reminds us that our property is never really ours. It’s only ever on loan. It’s fascinating to note that the Torah says that the slave can waive his release after 6 years – in such a case the slave is marked on the ear with an awl “and he shall then remain his slave for life.”6 Rashi comments to say that by “for life - לְעֹלָֽם” the Torah actually means until the Jubilee year, which happens once every 50 years.7 This seems to tell us, don’t put so much value on what you have, for even something designated as being owned “for life” isn’t really for life.

Throughout the parsha we are constantly reminded that truth, justice, and service of Hashem reign above money, power, and other idols. We must pay restitution to those who we have wronged, even inadvertently. We must leave parts of our fields unpicked for the poor. The Torah is not naive as to the value of money. We even make use of it to value damages and thus, more appropriately execute justice. But neither is the Torah naive to its dangerous influence either.

We are not supposed to deny physicality, but this parsha reminds us of its true purpose. When one truly observes the commandment not to have the name of other gods on their lips, it means that one sees property and money as a tool, supporting one in their work in this world, but not as something that will deliver them. If that is so, the Gemura tells us that they will have very little trouble observing these mitzvot. They “may be regarded as though he had observed every one of them.” They will see that we eat because we must live but we do not eat because we think that more and better food is the key to our happiness. They will understand that we earn money so that we can raise families, give to charity, and even enjoy the delicacies in this world that Hashem gives to us, but not because we believe it is our key to being whole.

If we find ourselves filling our imperfections with things, we must stop, breathe deeply, and ask ourselves: what do we really want? If we want truth, meaning, happiness, purpose, love, and connection, the Torah (and our own experiential reality) tells us that it cannot be found in things that we can hold in our hands. Parshat Mishpatim reminds us of this point. May we all merit to see physicality not as our god, but as a tool through which to serve and connect with Hashem.

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