Shoftim
This Shabbat we study the Parshah Shoftim, meaning “Judges” (Deuteronomy 16:18). Moses instructs the people of Israel to appoint judges and law enforcement in every city. “Justice, justice shall you pursue,” he commands them, and you must administer it without corruption or favoritism. Shoftim also includes the prohibitions against idolatry and sorcery; laws governing the appointment and behavior of a king; and guidelines for the creation of “cities of refuge” for the inadvertent murderer. Also set forth are many of the rules of war. The Parshah concludes with the law of the eglah arufah - the special procedure to be followed when a person is killed by an unknown murderer and his body is found in a field—which underscores the responsibility of the community and its leaders not only for what they do, but also for what they might have prevented from being done.
Chabad.org
Here Comes The Judge
There are some significant differences between earthly judges of flesh and blood and the heavenly judge. In the earthly court, if after a fair trial a defendant is found guilty, then there’s really not much room for clemency on the part of the judge. The law is the law and must take its course. The Supreme Judge, however, knows whether the accused genuinely regrets his actions or is merely putting on an act. Therefore, He alone is able to forgive. That is why in heavenly judgments, teshuvah (repentance) is effective.
The Maharal of Prague gave another reason. Only G-d is able to judge the whole person. Every one of us has good and bad to some extent. Even those who have sinned may have many other good deeds that outweigh the bad ones. Perhaps even one good deed was of such major significance that it alone could serve as a weighty counterbalance. The point is, only G-d knows. Only He can judge the individual in the context of his whole life and all his deeds, good and bad.
Our goal is to emulate the heavenly court. We should try to look at the totality of the person. You think he is bad, but is he all bad? Does he have no redeeming virtues? Surely, he must have some good in him as well. Look at the whole person.
A teacher once conducted an experiment. He held up a white plate and showed it to the class. In the center of the plate was a small black spot. He then asked the class to describe what they saw. One student said he saw a black spot. Another said it must be a target for shooting practice. A third suggested that the plate was dirty or damaged. Whereupon the teacher asked, “Doesn’t anyone see a white plate?” There may have been a small black spot, but essentially it was a white plate. Why do we only see the dirt? Let us learn to find the good in others. Nobody is perfect, not even ourselves. Let’s not be so judgmental and critical. Let’s try to see the good in others.
From an article by Rabbi Yossy Goldman
Simple Confidence
“Be simple with G-d.” (Deuteronomy 18:13)
Walk through life alongside Him in simple innocence.
Stay confident in His plans for you. Let go of trying to foresee the future and just accept whatever happens with all your heart.
Then you can rest assured that you will belong to Him and ultimately receive all the goodness He has promised you.
Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
Counsellors, Not Officers
Of the era of the Redemption it is said: “I shall restore your judges as at first, and your counselors as at the beginning” (Isaiah 1:26). This verse mentions “judges” but not “officers.” Instead of “officers” there will be “counselors.” The task of the counselors is to explain and clarify to litigants the words and decisions of the judge so that they will understand and realize how those decisions are in the peoples’ best interest and for their own benefit. Thus the people themselves will want to follow the court’s judgments. It follows, then, that in the Messianic era there will no longer be a need for officers to enforce the law, for all shall willingly live up to their obligations.
From an article by Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet
The Signposts Along My Road Towards a Torah-Observant Life
The road to a Torah-observant life is long and the path uncertain for someone brought up without Jewish observance. In the beginning, as my neshama, my Jewish soul, awakened, I most longed just to belong—to be a Jew among Jews, not the person raised by a Jewish mother who converted to Christianity. I had always felt like a fraud in a church, quite torn, but didn’t know how to begin to live life as a Jew. So I slogged along, well into middle age, not knowing where to begin. In fact, I didn’t really understand what my own dissatisfaction meant until I was “given permission” to be the Jew who dwelled inside me.
My road became clearer with a signpost in the form of a visit from Rabbi Yosef Goldwasser, the Chabad-Lubavitch emissary to the city of Mobile in Alabama. He helped me understand that my birthright as a Jew was legitimate, that my Jewishness was valued, and he encouraged me to move forward in whatever direction my heart and soul yearned. Rabbi Goldwasser, and his incredible wife, Bina, were and are patient and always willing to explain further what G-d wants of his children. I began to feel a need to incorporate Jewish practices into my life. One of my first decisions was to try keeping kosher. Although my nearby family—none of whom practice Judaism—tried to discourage me, I began in fits and starts to eat mostly kosher foods, scouring the grocery store for them.
At one point, I became overwhelmed and discouraged, and was even crying with worry that I could not actually do the things necessary to keep a kosher home with no family support. But the rabbi and Bina continued gently encouraging me to go slowly and do what I felt comfortable with. I am working on it.
On a recent Shabbat, I decided to turn off my cell phone, to which, like so many others, I am absolutely tethered, constantly checking messages, Facebook and emails. I can’t say it wasn’t difficult, but it turned out to be another signpost, pointing the way to a Shabbat of peace, restfulness and reflection. I also made the decision to turn off my television and computer for the duration of that Shabbat. Instead, I read chapters of Mendel Kalmenson’s Positivity Bias, drinking in the thoughts and perceptions of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory.
The power of the Rebbe’s worldview has become another signpost to teach me to move straight down the road of Jewish observance, veering neither to the right nor left. I am learning that I must consider what I say and what I do because my thoughts, words and actions have a ripple effect, and the consequences can be exceedingly far-reaching. This is a hard lesson to learn and one in which I am sure to stumble. But the signpost is clear and points in only one direction.
I “chanced” upon an article on Chabad.org that pointed out to me this insight: “It is our duty, the Rebbe says, to stand at life’s crossroads with a large arrow sign and loudly proclaim to all, ‘This is the way to refuge. Here’s the Torah. Here’s how you live it. Here’s how you find peace and tranquility.’ We need to be signs,” the article continues. “For our chance acquaintances, for our friends, for our children.” I am so fortunate to be directed by the signposts provided through the mentoring of the Goldwassers and the power of the Rebbe’s guidance. And so, I move forward in my journey—preparing my kitchen to be completely kosher. I am still taking deep breaths and worrying a little about getting everything right, but I know I am moving in the direction my soul is telling me to move.
Feeling gratitude for the joy of my blossoming Jewishness is a daily affirmation that G-d has chosen to touch my life in continually unfolding and personal ways. And my small gift to him is teaching myself to say the Modeh Ani prayer in Hebrew via transliteration. It is my way of praising and thanking the G-d who gently but firmly has set me on the right path and provided signposts to keep me there.
From an article by Rachel Leah Fry