Sports fan
or not, the passing of Dean Smith z”l deserves our attention. The
legendary UNC basketball coach died Sunday, February 8, 2015. Adored and
admired in the sporting world, Dean Smith was an inspirational model for what
it means to be a righteous human being far beyond the basketball court. Michael
Jordan, who played for Smith, had this to say: “Other than my parents, no one had a
bigger influence on my life than Coach Smith. He was more than a coach—he was my
mentor, my teacher, my second father. Coach was always there for me whenever I
needed him and I loved him for it. In teaching me the game of basketball, he
taught me about life.” Indeed,
Dean Smith has much to teach us all about how the “game of
life” ought to be played; on the moral
scale, he was a high scorer.
John
Feinstein, who is writing a book about Smith, interviewed his pastor, the Rev.
Robert Seymour, who recounted that when Smith arrived in Chapel Hill, he was
appalled to learn that the restaurants in
town were segregated. The two men agreed that Smith would patronize restaurants
where he was known and bring black members of his church with him, pretty much
forcing the restaurants to serve them. Thus began the integration of
restaurants in Chapel Hill. When Feinstein asked Smith about this, he said he
wished Rev. Seymour had not told Feinstein. Feinstein asked if he weren’t proud of
what he had done. Dean Smith responded: “You should never be proud of doing
the right thing. You should just do the right thing.”
Dean Smith
found himself in a highly segregated culture in which equality—along the
lines of color, religion, sex, politics, and socio-economics—was
unthinkable, even unimaginable. Prof. Joshua Berman of Bar-Ilan University, the
author of Created Equal, tells us that Tana”kh (Hebrew
Scripture) was the Dean Smith of its day. In Berman’s own
words[1]: “…the
Pentateuch is history’s
first blueprint for a society where theology, politics, and economics embrace
egalitarian ideals, by reconstituting ancient norms and institutions….The
Pentateuch, I claim, took aim at the socioeconomic structure prevalent
throughout the ancient Near East: the divide between the dominant
tribute-imposing class and the dominated tribute-bearing class.” And in the next breath, Berman notes
that the italicized terms are borrowed from Norman Gottwald[2] and that,
“it is hard
to imagine us convening a session on the theme of equality and the Pentateuch
had it not been for his life’s
work around these ideas.” (Please
note Berman’s
humility; I’ll return
to that in a moment.) He continues: “By rejecting social stratification,
I mean rejecting the permanent and institutionalized power given to particular
classes to control the economic, military, and political resources of society.” Does this sound like the Near East
2500 years ago? Or North Carolina in the 1960s? Or both?
This week
we read Parshat Mishpatim, which is teeming with laws. It opens with the
law of debt slaves[3]:
כִּי תִקְנֶה
עֶבֶד עִבְרִי, שֵׁשׁ שָׁנִים יַעֲבֹד; וּבַשְּׁבִעִת--יֵצֵא לַחָפְשִׁי, חִנָּם. אִם-בְּגַפּוֹ יָבֹא, בְּגַפּוֹ יֵצֵא; אִם-בַּעַל אִשָּׁה
הוּא, וְיָצְאָה
אִשְׁתּוֹ עִמּוֹ. אִם-אֲדֹנָיו יִתֶּן-לוֹ אִשָּׁה,
וְיָלְדָה-לוֹ בָנִים אוֹ בָנוֹת--הָאִשָּׁה וִילָדֶיהָ,
תִּהְיֶה לַאדֹנֶיהָ,
וְהוּא,
יֵצֵא בְגַפּוֹ.
When
you acquire a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years; in the seventh year he
shall go free, without payment. If he came single, he shall leave single; if he
had a wife, his wife shall leave with him. If his master gave him a wife, and
she has borne him children, the wife and her children shall belong to the
master, and he shall leave alone. (Exodus 21:2-4)
To modern
ears, this sounds barbaric. But not in the context of the ancient Near East.
People who fell into debt often sold themselves into indentured servitude, but
rarely succeeded in buying their way out. A master allowing a slave to go free?
Unimaginable. Yet Torah draws a line and limits debt slavery: Seven years maximum and then the master must
release the slave. The once-indentured servant has a new chance at life and
independence and dignity. And why? Because Torah seeks to move society from
reality toward an idealistic vision in which there are no slaves and no one is
poor or homeless. As Berman writes that throughout the “law codes” of Torah, “What we
will see time and again is the way preexisting concepts and institutions in
ancient Near Eastern culture are reworked according to a new agenda that
advocates the attenuation of the socioeconomic hierarchy.”[4]
In fact,
the term “law codes” is a misnomer because these passages
are not juridical[5], but
rather an expression of social values and aspirations. We find this passage in
Exodus, the book that establishes redemption from slavery as the foundation of
Jewish thinking and experience. Debt slaves were not released at the pleasure
of the king, nor could the king countermand the release. As Berman notes, “The
purpose of biblical law is to shape and form the polity, not merely to address
cases and provide remedy.”[6] Torah
seeks to inculcate values of egalitarianism.
The Rabbis
take it a step further. Talmud explains that although slaves are to be released
on Rosh Hashanah, it doesn’t
not quite work that way. R. Ishmael the son of R. Yochanan b. Beroka taught
that,
מכאן אמר ר' ישמעאל בנו של ר' יוחנן בן ברוקא מר"ה עד יוה"כ לא היו עבדים נפטרין
לבתיהן ולא משתעבדין לאדוניהם אלא אוכלין ושותין ושמחין ועטרותיהן בראשיהן כיון
שהגיע יוה"כ תקעו ב"ד בשופר נפטרו עבדים לבתיהן ושדות חוזרות לבעליהן
…from
New Year to the Day of Atonement, slaves were neither dismissed to their homes
nor subjected to their masters. Rather, they ate and drank and made merry,
wearing garlands in their heads. When the Day of Atonement came, the bet din
sounded the shofar and slaves were
dismissed to their homes, and fields returned to their original owners [in
accordance with the laws of shemittah, the sabbatical year described in
Leviticus, chapter 25]. (BT Rosh Hashanah 8b)
Why does
the master keep his erstwhile slave for an additional ten days? Is this not
tantamount to additional and illegal incarceration? In fact, the purpose is the
opposite: For ten days the former debt slave transitions to free man. His
former master makes him his equal by eating and drinking with him and treating
him as a guest in his home, rather than a servant in his household. The Torah’s ideal,
carried forward by the Talmud is clear:
אֶפֶס,
כִּי לֹא יִהְיֶה-בְּךָ אֶבְיוֹן: כִּי-בָרֵךְ
יְבָרֶכְךָ, יְהוָה,
בָּאָרֶץ,
אֲשֶׁר יְהוָה
אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן-לְךָ נַחֲלָה לְרִשְׁתָּהּ. רַק אִם-שָׁמוֹעַ תִּשְׁמַע, בְּקוֹל יְהוָה
אֱלֹהֶיךָ, לִשְׁמֹר
לַעֲשׂוֹת אֶת-כָּל-הַמִּצְוָה
הַזֹּאת, אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי
מְצַוְּךָ הַיּוֹם.
There
shall be no needy among you—since the Lord your God will bless you in the
land that the Lord your God is giving you as a hereditary portion—if
only you need the Lord your God and take care to keep all this Instruction that
I enjoin upon you this day. (Deuteronomy 15:4-5)
Torah’s agenda
is clear: Chisel away at the real to make room for the ideal.
Rabbi
Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787-1859), commenting on וְאַנְשֵׁי-קֹדֶשׁ, תִּהְיוּן
לִי
You
shall be to Me a holy people (Exodus 22:30) in this week’s parashah,
teaches that kedushah/holiness should be realized in the human realm—in our
lives, through our words and deeds. God does not wish us to be angels (God has
plenty of them and can always create more) but rather fully human. The S’fat Emet
(Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter, 1847-1905) writes[7]:
In
the name of the holy rabbi of Kotsk, on the verse, וְאַנְשֵׁי-קֹדֶשׁ,
תִּהְיוּן לִי You shall be to Me a holy people
(Exodus 22:30). The guarding of holiness has to be within the realm of human
deeds and activities. God has no lack of sublime angels, seraphim, or holy
beings. But God longs for the holiness of people; it was for that reason that
God caused sparks of holiness to enter this world, in measured and reduced
form. Therefore, וּבָשָׂר
בַּשָּׂדֶה טְרֵפָה לֹא תֹאכֵלוּ, לַכֶּלֶב תַּשְׁלִכוּן אֹתוֹ
you must not eat flesh torn by beasts in the field; you shall
cast it to the dogs (Exodus 22:30). From this the Rabbis derived
the principle that anything taken out of its proper place is forbidden. This
means that the flow of holiness is in all things, but in a measured way. We
have to guard the corporeal, that it not transgress the border of holiness.
The S’fat Emet
will now introduce his own take on תִּהְיוּן
לִי (“you shall
be to Me”). He
understands it not as an imperative command, but as the outcome or promise of a
life lived in spiritual holiness.
But
תִּהְיוּן לִי
(“you shall be to Me”)
can also be read as a promise [rather than as a commandment]. In the end,
Israel are to be “holy to God.” That
is why we have to guard ourselves now, so that we are ready to be placed upon
the King’s head. The midrash[8]
says in a parable, “as many precious stones and pearls as you can
put onto [the king’s crown], do so, for it is going to be placed
upon the king’s own head.”
The
Kotzker rebbe wants us to be holy in the fullness of our humanity. The S’fat Emet
wants us to be holy because we see ourselves as the crown adorning God’s head.
But are these views in opposition to each other? It is when we see ourselves—and all
other people—as
reflections of the divine, that we are motivated to ensure that all that we do
and say are jewels in the divine crown; then we realize that genuine holiness
in this world can only be affected by us, through our words and hands.
One more
point: When the S’fat
Emet asks us to see ourselves as jewels in the divine crown, he is not calling
forth our hubris and egocentrism. To the contrary: he is reminding us that
everything we do—from
the smallest word of kindness to the great deeds of social justice—adorn God’s crown
and enhance its sparkling brilliance, casting a reflection of divinity back on
us. To live this way—to
see ourselves as serving God’s
desire for justice, equity, and kindness—requires enormous humility.
Joshua
Berman, steeped in the Torah’s
attempt to push society toward egalitarianism, expressed his humility in
crediting another scholar with the terms and ideas that gave rise to his
research. In 36 seasons coaching the Tar Heels, Dean Smith won two national
championships and guided his team to 879 victories. Yet Smith was humble, and
credited a long list of other people with the success. When he learned that the
new basketball arena in Chapel Hill was to be named the Dean E. Smith Center,
he was highly displeased, letting it be known that it should be named for the
players, not for him. Personally, I’m glad the arena is named for a man
whose values and deeds will continue to inspire so many.
זכרונו לברכה—His memory is a blessing.
© Rabbi
Amy Scheinerman
[1] In a conversation with Saul M. Olyan, ed., The Journal
of Hebrew Sciprtures, Volume 10, Article 9, doi:10:5508/jjs.2010.v10.a9
(available at www.jhsonline.org/Articles/article_137.pdf).
[2] Norman Gottwald has been described as an “American Marxist biblical scholar,” a term that sounds bizarre, even oxymoronic, but perhaps
gets to the heart of this thinking about ancient Israelite sociology and
institutions.
[3] Leviticus 25:35-54 and Deuteronomy 15:12-18 are also
concerned with the manumission of debt slaves.
[4] Joshua Berman, Created Equal, p. 83.
[5] Biblical scholars posit three theories concerning the
nature of ancient Near East “law codes”: (1) The king’s
fulfillment of his obligations to the gods to justify his rule (for example,
Hammurabi’s Code is seen in this light); (2)
collections of legal problems and solutions; and (3) pedagogic training texts
for judges.
[6] Berman, p. 200.
[8]
I think he’s referring to Pesikta de-Rav Kahana (piska 2): R. Yehudah bar R.
Shimon told the parable of a man who sat making a crown for the king. A
passerby saw him and asked him: “What are you making?” The man replied: “A
crown for the king.” The passerby said: “Set in it as many emeralds as you can
possibly set; set in it other precious stones—pearls, too—since the crown will
be put on a king’s head.” So the Holy One said to Moses: “Moses, praise Israel
as much as you can; praise them to Me; glorify Israel as much as you can;
glorify them since I am to be glorified through them, And he said to me: You
are My servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified (Isaiah 49:3).
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