Parshas Ki Seitzei 5785
An elderly non-Jewish woman is crossing the street, her age and body language suggesting that her senses and reflexes are not in tip-top shape. So she probably doesn’t see the bus coming. And considering that she’s covered in dark clothing from head to toe and that it’s nighttime and that the streetlight overhead only flickers on every thirty seconds or so, the driver of the oncoming bus likely doesn’t see. You see all this and assess.
You have all the time you’d need to dart into the street and snatch her from the bus’s collision course without posing any risk to your own life or wellbeing. But…meh. You’ve had a long day and you’re just not up for heroics today. And so, disaster strikes.
Here’s the question: What Torah violation did you just commit?
And here’s the answer: None.
In describing the importance of maintaining proper weights and measures for commerce, the Torah sternly warns against engaging in deceptive commercial practices. The pasuk declares, “כִּי תוֹעֲבַת ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ כׇּל־עֹשֵׂה אֵלֶּה כֹּל עֹשֵׂה עָוֶל—For an abomination to Hashem, your G-d, are all who do this, all who act dishonestly (25:16).”
The Torah emphasizes that it is casting a wide net in rendering a dishonest person as guilty of to’eivah, abominable behavior. “All who do this, all who act dishonestly.” It’s almost as though the Torah feels the need to respond to an observer’s question of, “But even that guy?”
“Oh, yes, even that guy.”
Who is that guy?
The K’sav Sofer explains that the inclusive “All who do” and then “All who act” refers even to someone not strictly acting in violation of halacha. He’s deceptive and dishonest, but deftly so. He carefully skates around any obvious halachic red line, avoids being accosted by anyone who might thumb through the Shulchan Aruch and place a black and white violation right under his nose, can respond triumphantly to anyone who questions his behavior with the defiant retort of, “Where does it say it’s assur?”
According to the K’sav Sofer, this is the fellow the Torah has in mind. Even that guy. The guy who was careful not to openly violate and clear halacha. His carefully manicured behavior? A to’eivah. Abominable.
The K’sav Sofer explains that in this regard a critical distinction exists between mitzvos bein adam la’Makom—those mitzvos we perform in direct service of Hashem—and mitzvos bein adam la’chaveiro—mitzvos between man and man. Our knowledge of serving Hashem—what constitutes a mitzvah and what constitutes an aveirah—can only be revealed by Hashem Himself. It would never have occurred to us on our own to take four minim on Sukkos or that Hashem would be so perturbed by our wearing wool and linen.
Not so when it comes to our treatment of other people. Even without the Torah’s guidance in this realm, we would have come to many of its conclusions all on our own. Our very conscience can guide us towards dealing with people fairly and honestly, with respect and dignity. And we are bound by that intuition. Even when no halachic obligation exists, a moral one does nonetheless.
The K’sav Sofer notes the distinction between the very first two sins in all of human history: Adam and Chava’s eating of the fruit of the Eitz HaDa’as, and Kayin’s murder of his brother Hevel. While Adam and Chava were specifically commanded to refrain from eating from this one tree, Kayin is never commanded not to kill but his held accountable just the same. Because Kayin knew murder to be wrong, whether or not it was ever codified as such.
When one sees a fellow Jew in trouble, he is obligated to save him. Refraining from doing so is a violation of the Torah’s command, “לֹא תַעֲמֹד עַל־דַּם רֵעֶךָ—Do not stand by the blood of your brother (Vayikra 19:16).” But the term “רעך—your brother” limits this mitzvah exclusively to fellow Jews. What, then, of non-Jews? What of the little old lady crossing the street, right in the path of an oncoming bus? What pasuk do I violate in letting “nature” run its course?
Perhaps none. Yet such behavior is obviously unacceptable. It is the sort of behavior included in the Torah’s emphasis that “All who do this, all who act dishonestly” are guilty of abomination.
Our lives are governed by the Torah and by the Shulchan Aruch. But also by our conscience. Not everything can or should be included in the physical contract that outlines the way we are supposed to live our lives. In some areas, we’re just supposed to “get it”—to intuit that there’s a right way to treat people and a wrong one. And to treat them wrongly is beneath who we are meant to be as people. It is abominable. Whether or not any pasuk clearly articulates the violation.
In Hilchos Melachim (10:12), the Rambam does discuss a number of practices to be maintained in our relations with the outside world. For while the Torah itself obligates these behaviors only when interacting with other Jews—visiting the sick, burying the dead, and providing tzedakah—we are mandated to perform such acts for non-Jews because of “Darkei Shalom—The Ways of Peace.”
Darkei Shalom is often understood as a purely pragmatic consideration: act this way so as to not draw the ire of the non-Jewish world. But in sourcing the concept in Tanach, the Rambam quotes a telling pasuk: “טוֹב ה’ לַכּל וְרַחֲמָיו עַל כָּל מַעֲשָׂיו—Hashem is good to all and His mercy is upon all His creations (Tehilim 145:9).”
We exhibit mercy and exude kindness, treat others—all others—with respect and dignity, not only to keep the peace, but because it’s what Hashem would do. Because there may be items omitted by the Chumash and avoided by the Shulchan Aruch, that are nonetheless obligatory. Purely because our Divinely-endowed conscience insists that it is so.